Fiction Books

The Spanish Man-of-war off Shetland—A Calm—The “Saint Cecilia” in Danger—The Pilot—Brassay Sound. “Land! land on the larboard bow!” The cry was uttered in a foreign tongue from the masthead of a corvette of twenty guns, a beautiful long, low, flush-decked craft with dark hull, taunt raking masts, and square yards, which, under all the sails she could carry with a southerly breeze right... more...

1. Victorious is the garland-wearing foster-son of Nanda,—the protector of his devotees,—the destroyer of the cruel king,— dark-blue like the delicate tamâla blossoms,—formidable with his many outspread rays,—mighty with all his attendant powers, [Footnote: The Bengali translation explains these as the internal powers (__antara"ngâ__) Hlâdinî, etc., and the external... more...

CHAPTER I A FRIEND IN NEED A light breeze, scented with the smell of the firs, was blowing down the inlet, and the tiny ripples it chased across the water splashed musically against the bows of the canoe. They met her end-on, sparkling in the warm sunset light, gurgled about her sides, and trailed away astern in two divergent lines as the paddles flashed and fell. There was a thud as the blades struck... more...

THE LITTLE IRON SOLDIER OR, WHAT AMINADAB IVISON DREAMED ABOUT. AMINADAB IVISON started up in his bed. The great clock at the head of the staircase, an old and respected heirloom of the family, struck one. "Ah," said he, heaving up a great sigh from the depths of his inner man,"I've had a tried time of it." "And so have I," said the wife. "Thee's been kicking and... more...

PREFACE. It was a dark, stormy night in the winter of 1882, when less than a hundred men, all of whom had served their country in crushing the great Rebellion of 1861-'65, gathered around a camp-fire. The white and the colored American were there; so were the German, Frenchman, and Irishman,—all American citizens,—all veterans of the last war. The empty sleeve, the absent leg, the sabred face,... more...

CHAPTER I. YUSUF BEGINS HIS SEARCH FOR TRUTH."O when shall all my wanderings end,And all my steps to Thee-ward tend!" "Peace, oh peace! that thy light wings might now rest upon me! Truth, that thou mightest shine in upon my soul, making all light where now is darkness! Ye spirits that dwell in yon bright orbs far above me, ye that alone are privileged to bow before the Great Creator of the... more...

CHAPTER I. The professor crossed one long, lean leg over the other, and punched down the ashes in his pipe-bowl with the square tip of his middle finger. The thermometer on the shady veranda marked eighty-seven degrees of heat, and nature wooed the soul to languor and revery; but nothing could abate the energy of this bony sage. "They talk about their Atlantises,—their submerged continents!"... more...

CHAPTER I. THE DREAMER. So many of my dreams have come true, that I sometimes incline to believe that dreams are in reality the only truths. I fancy this dream, at any rate, will be fulfilled. A hard gale rushed over a torn sea, and the drift was swept so that the moon was obscured with every fresh gust. High overhead a clear, steely sky was flecked here and there with fleecy white, and, ever and... more...

KILLYKINICK. I.—The “Left Overs.” It was the week after Commencement. The corridors, class-rooms, and study hall of Saint Andrew’s stretched in dim, silent vistas; over the tennis court and the playground there brooded a dead calm; the field, scene of so many strenuous struggles, lay bare and still in the summer sunlight; the quadrangle, that so lately had rung to parting cheer and “yell,”... more...

In the dusk of a spring evening, Helen Caniper walked on the long road from the town. Making nothing of the laden basket she carried, she went quickly until she drew level with the high fir-wood which stood like a barrier against any encroachment on the moor, then she looked back and saw lights darting out to mark the streets she had left behind, as though a fairy hand illuminated a giant... more...