Fiction Books

I. THE GROCER OF WOOD-STREET AND HIS FAMILY. One night, at the latter end of April, 1665, the family of a citizen of London carrying on an extensive business as a grocer in Wood-street, Cheapside, were assembled, according to custom, at prayer. The grocer's name was Stephen Bloundel. His family consisted of his wife, three sons, and two daughters. He had, moreover, an apprentice; an elderly female... more...

CHAPTER I "Hallo! Is that Hampstead Police Station?" "Yes. Who are you?" "Detective-Inspector Chippenfield of Scotland Yard. Tell Inspector SeldonI want him, and be quick about it." "Yes, sir. Hang on, sir. I'll put you through to him at once." Detective-Inspector Chippenfield, of Scotland Yard, waited with the receiver held to his ear. While he waited he... more...

PROLOGUE Certain persons have reproached the Author for knowing no more about the language of the olden times than hares do of telling stories. Formerly these people would have been vilified, called cannibals, churls, and sycophants, and Gomorrah would have been hinted at as their natal place. But the Author consents to spare them the flowery epithets of ancient criticism; he contents himself with... more...

THE BROKEN DOLL Mary Jane stood on the curbstone and stared into the middle of the street. Her face was white with fright and the tears which had not as yet come were close to her big blue eyes. Her little fists were clinched and even her perky plaid hair ribbon seemed to show amazement. And wasn't it enough to make any little girl stare? Her big, beautiful doll, the one that came at Christmas... more...

A WAGER IS MADE After the termination of a three months' struggle on the floor of 'Change, resulting in the rout of his adversaries, who had counted on an easy acquisition of his heritage in the P. & S. system, Calvert Carter was grateful for that particular armchair in the reading-room of the Racquet Club. "Those gentlemen, in banking on my inexperience in manipulations," he... more...

I Dear little book, what shall I say about thee? Belated offspring of mine, out of print for twenty years, what shall I say in praise of thee? For twenty years I have only seen thee in French, and in this English text thou comest to me like an old love, at once a surprise and a recollection. Dear little book, I would say nothing about thee if I could help it, but a publisher pleads, and "No" is... more...

CHAPTER 1 Myles Falworth was but eight years of age at that time, and it was only afterwards, and when he grew old enough to know more of the ins and outs of the matter, that he could remember by bits and pieces the things that afterwards happened; how one evening a knight came clattering into the court-yard upon a horse, red-nostrilled and smeared with the sweat and foam of a desperate ride—Sir John... more...

ACT I SCENE: The market-place of Hamelin. Right, the Minster, with an open shrine (right centre) containing a large sculptured figure of the Christ. Right, farther front, the house of KURT; and other narrow house-fronts. Left, the Rathaus, and (down) the home of JACOBUS. Front, to left and right, are corner-houses with projecting stories and casement windows. At the centre rear, a narrow street leads... more...

NOTICE TO PARENTS Although this little book is primarily intended for the entertainment of youthful readers, it is hoped by the writer that it may also aid in accomplishing a number of useful purposes and may prove to be, in the hands of parents, a guide for the modern child through the devious paths which his or her feet must inevitably tread. It is now many years since our little friend Rollo has... more...

The slick black car sped along the wide and straight street. It came to a smooth stop in front of a clean white house. A man got out of the car and walked briskly to the door. Reaching out with a pink hand, he pressed the doorbell with one well-manicured finger. The door was answered by a housewife. She was wearing a white blouse, a green skirt and a green apron trimmed with white. Her feet were tucked... more...