Fiction Books

A strong wind swept over the great forest, sending green leaves and twigs in showers before it, and bringing clouds in battalions from the west. The air presently grew cold, and then heavy drops of rain came, pattering at first like shot, but soon settling into a hard and steady fall that made the day dark and chill, tingeing the whole wilderness with gloom and desolation. The deer sought its covert, a... more...

How Uncle Jeff came to “Roaring Water”—The situation of the farm—The inmates of the house—My sister Clarice and Black Rachel—Uncle Jeff—Bartle Won and Gideon Tuttle—Arrival of Lieutenant Broadstreet and his men—The troopers quartered in the hut—Our farm-labourers—Sudden appearance of the redskin Winnemak—His former visit to the farm—Clarice encounters him at the spring—Badly... more...

CHAPTER I. THE BLUE WALL I was born under the Blue Ridge, and under that side which is blue in the evening light, in a wild land of game and forest and rushing waters. There, on the borders of a creek that runs into the Yadkin River, in a cabin that was chinked with red mud, I came into the world a subject of King George the Third, in that part of his realm known as the province of North Carolina. The... more...

CHAPTER I. WHY UNCLE JEFF CAME TO "ROARING WATER"—THE SITUATION OF THE FARM—THE INMATES OF THE HOUSE—MY SISTER CLARICE AND BLACK RACHEL—UNCLE JEFF—BARTLE WON AND GIDEON TUTTLE—ARRIVAL OF LIEUTENANT BROADSTREET AND HIS MEN—THE TROOPERS QUARTERED IN THE HUT—OUR FARM-LABOURERS—SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF THE REDSKIN WINNEMAK—HIS FORMER VISIT TO THE FARM—CLARICE ENCOUNTERS HIM AT THE... more...

A PILGRIM IN THE FAR WEST. The Peak was superb that morning, big and strong, and glittering with snow. Little Mrs. Nancy Tarbell turned, after shutting and locking the door of her cottage, and looked down the street, at the end of which the friendly giant stood out against a clear blue sky. The cottonwood trees on either side of the road were just coming into leaf, and their extended branches framed in... more...

THE WHITE HORSE CHAPLAIN The Bishop of Alden was practising his French upon Arsene LaComb. It was undoubtedly good French, this of M’sieur the Bishop, Arsene assured himself. It must be. But it certainly was not any kind of French that had ever been spoken by the folks back in Three Rivers. Still, what did it matter? If Arsene could not understand all that the Bishop said, it was equally certain that... more...

CHAPTER I. ZEB AND HIS MASTER. At the southern part of Ohio, where the river of that name swerves from its south-western course, and makes a sweeping bend toward the north-west, many years ago stood a large and imposing dwelling. Its character, so different and superior to others found here and there along the Ohio, showed that its owner must have been a man both of superior taste and abundant means.... more...

CHAPTER I A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS W hen did you last hear from Nayland Smith?" asked my visitor. I paused, my hand on the siphon, reflecting for a moment. "Two months ago," I said: "he's a poor correspondent and rather soured, I fancy." "What—a woman or something?" "Some affair of that sort. He's such a reticent beggar, I really know very little about it." I... more...

CHAPTER I. "The morning had shot her bright streamers on high,O'er Canada, opening all pale to the sky; Still dazzling and white was the robe that she wore,Except where the ocean wave lash'd on the shore." Jacobite Song. THERE lies between the Rice Lake and the Ontario, a deep and fertile valley, surrounded by lofty wood-crowned hills, the heights of which were clothed chiefly with... more...

I was shocked this morning when I saw in my newspaper a paragraph announcing his sudden death. I do not say that the shock was very disagreeable. One reads a newspaper for the sake of news. Had I never met James Pethel, belike I should never have heard of him: and my knowledge of his death, coincident with my knowledge that he had existed, would have meant nothing at all to me. If you learn suddenly... more...