Fiction Books

THE GUILLOTINE FOR some reason of his own Guillaume was bent upon witnessing the execution of Salvat. Pierre tried to dissuade him from doing so; and finding his efforts vain, became somewhat anxious. He accordingly resolved to spend the night at Montmartre, accompany his brother and watch over him. In former times, when engaged with Abbe Rose in charitable work in the Charonne district, he had learnt... more...

The contract for the two million bushel grain elevator, Calumet K, had been let to MacBride & Company, of Minneapolis, in January, but the superstructure was not begun until late in May, and at the end of October it was still far from completion. Ill luck had attended Peterson, the constructor, especially since August. MacBride, the head of the firm, disliked unlucky men, and at the end of three... more...

THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND "I never can learn them in the wide, wide world! I just know I never can, Dot!" "Dear me! I'm dreadfully sorry for you, Tess," responded Dorothy Kenway—only nobody ever called her by her full name, for she really was too small to achieve the dignity of anything longer than "Dot." "I'm dreadfully sorry for you, Tess," she repeated,... more...

INTRODUCTION. By the courtesy of Forest and Stream and Hunter-Trader-Trapper these articles are republished in book form by the author. I have been induced to bring them out a second time under one cover by the frequent requests of my fellow bushmen who were kind enough to criticise them favorably when they first appeared in the magazine. In this preamble I think it proper and possibly interesting to... more...

PART I THE EVENING SKYRose-bosom'd and rose-limb'dWith eyes of dazzling brightShakes Venus mid the twinèd boughs of the night;Rose-limb'd, soft-steppingFrom low bough to boughShaking the wide-hung starry fruitage—dimmedIts bloom of snowBy that sole planetary glow.Venus, avers the astronomer,Not thus idly dancing goesFlushing the eternal orchard with wild rose.She through ether... more...

MY COUSIN FANNY We do not keep Christmas now as we used to do in old Hanover. We have not time for it, and it does not seem like the same thing. Christmas, however, always brings up to me my cousin Fanny; I suppose because she always was so foolish about Christmas. My cousin Fanny was an old maid; indeed, to follow St. Paul's turn of phrase, she was an old maid of the old maids. No one who saw her... more...

I was born in Constantinople; my father was a dragoman at the Porte, and besides, carried on a fairly lucrative business in sweet-scented perfumes and silk goods. He gave me a good education; he partly instructed me himself, and also had me instructed by one of our priests. He at first intended me to succeed him in business one day, but as I showed greater aptitude than he had expected, he destined me,... more...

THE MARTIAN "BARTY JOSSELIN IS NO MORE...." When so great a man dies, it is generally found that a tangled growth of more or less contentious literature has already gathered round his name during his lifetime. He has been so written about, so talked about, so riddled with praise or blame, that, to those who have never seen him in the flesh, he has become almost a tradition, a myth—and one... more...

The Hell O! O! Chaunty Chaunty Man . . Man the capstan, bullies!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o! Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Capstan-bars, you tarry souls!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o! Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Take a turn!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Stand by to fleet!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Stand by to surge!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Ha!—o-o-o-o!Men . . . . . .... more...

I. The friends of Dean Ramsay desiring a memorial of his life, his friendly publishers, and his nearest relatives, have asked me to undertake the work, and placed in my hands some materials giving authentic facts and dates, and illustrating the Dean's own views on the leading events of his life. I feel myself excluded from dealing with one important part of such a life, for I could not take upon... more...