Fiction Books

ABRAHAM LINCOLN Two Chroniclers: The two speaking together: Kinsmen, you shall behold Our stage, in mimic action, mould A man's character. This is the wonder, always, everywhere—Not that vast mutability which is event,The pits and pinnacles of change,But man's desire and valiance that rangeAll circumstance, and come to port unspent. Agents are these events, these ecstasies,And tribulations,... more...

INTRODUCTION. BY THE AUTHOR OF "GOLDEN STEPS," &c. Works of fiction are to be approved when they subserve the interests of morality and religion. The Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments—the ancient classics—the most distinguished productions of modern ages—afford striking illustrations of the beautiful and instructive lessons of virtue and piety, which may be conveyed in fabulous... more...

ATHALIA HALL stopped to get her breath and look back over the road climbing steeply up from the covered bridge. It was a little after five, and the delicate air of dawn was full of wood and pasture scents—the sweetness of bay and the freshness of dew-drenched leaves. In the valley night still hung like gauze under the trees, but the top of the hill was glittering with sunshine. "Why, we've... more...

The ladies of St. James’s Go swinging to the play; Their footmen run before them With a “Stand by! Clear the way!” But Phyllida, my Phyllida! She takes her buckled shoon. When we go out a-courting Beneath the harvest moon. The ladies of St. James’s! They are so fine and fair, You’d think a box of essences Was broken in the air: But Phyllida, my Phyllida! The breath of heath and furze When... more...

CHAPTER ITHE OPEN PORT 'Fun!' said Ken Carrington, as he leaned over the rail of the transport, 'Cardigan Castle,' and watched the phosphorescent waters of the Aegean foaming white through the darkness against her tall side. 'Fun!' he repeated rather grimly. 'You won't think it so funny when you find yourself crawling up a cliff with quick-firers barking at you... more...

CHAPTER I The sun shone, that morning, and even from a city office window the Spring wind could be felt, sweet and keen and heady, making you feel that you wanted to be out in it, laughing, facing toward the exciting, happy things Spring was sure to be bringing you, if you only went a little way to meet them—just a little way! Marjorie Ellison, bending over a filing cabinet in a small and solitary... more...

CHAPTER I THE PROBLEM OF THE CRITIQUE The problem of the Critique may be stated in outline and approximately in Kant's own words as follows. Human reason is called upon to consider certain questions, which it cannot decline, as they are presented by its own nature, but which it cannot answer. These questions relate to God, freedom of the will, and immortality. And the name for the subject which... more...

CHAPTER I THE YOUNG MAN NEXT DOOR My story begins with an incident that is bound to happen some time in any household that boasts—or perhaps deplores—a high-spirited girl of twenty-three in it. It begins with "a row" about a young man. My story begins, too, where the first woman's story began—in a garden. It was the back garden of our red-roofed villa in that suburban street,... more...

A crosser old woman than Mrs. Deborah Thornby was certainly not to be found in the whole village of Hilton. Worth, in country phrase, a power of money, and living (to borrow another rustic expression) upon her means, the exercise of her extraordinary faculty for grumbling and scolding seemed the sole occupation of her existence, her only pursuit, solace, and amusement; and really it would have been a... more...

Chapter I The curate was walking on the cliffs with his lady-love. All the sky was grey, and all the sea was grey. The soft March wind blew over the rocky shore; it could not rustle the bright green weed that hung wet from the boulders, but it set all the tufts of grass upon the cliffs nodding to the song of the ebbing tide. The lady was the vicar's daughter; her name was Violetta. 'Let us... more...