Fiction Books

Count Eustache d'Etchegorry's solitary country house had the appearance of a poor man's home, where people do not have enough to eat every day in the week, where the bottles are more frequently filled at the pump than in the cellar, and where they wait until it is dark before lighting the candles. It was an old and sordid building; the walls were crumbling to pieces, the grated, iron... more...

CHAPTER I. A MERCILESS ENEMY. “All tickets, please!” The blue-uniformed conductor, with a lantern under his arm, and his punch in hand, entered the smoking-car of the Boston express. It was between seven and eight o’clock on the night of the tenth of December. The train was speeding eastward through the wintry landscape of the State of Maine. Among the passengers in the smoking-car was a... more...

CHAPTER I. A REHEARSAL. When the curtain fell on the last act of "The Squire's Daughter," the comedy-opera that had taken all musical London by storm, a tall and elegant young English matron and her still taller brother rose from their places in the private box they had been occupying, and made ready to depart; and he had just assisted her to put on her long-skirted coat of rose-red plush... more...

CHAPTER I GETTING IN Early in November, 1915, I sailed from New York to Rotterdam. I spent nearly a month in Holland completing my preparations, and at length one grey winter morning I took the step that I dreaded. I had left Germany six months before with a feeling that to enter it again and get safely out was hopeless, foolish, dangerous, impossible. But at any rate I was going to try. At Zevenaar,... more...

CHAPTER I A BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK The 25th day of August, 1751, about two in the afternoon, I, David Balfour, came forth of the British Linen Company, a porter attending me with a bag of money, and some of the chief of these merchants bowing me from their doors. Two days before, and even so late as yestermorning, I was like a beggarman by the wayside, clad in rags, brought down to my last shillings, my... more...

"HAIL, THOU THAT ART HIGHLY FAVOURED, THE LORD IS WITH THEE! BLESSED ART THOU AMONG WOMEN!" Such was the congratulatory language in which the commissioned angel addressed the virgin of Nazareth, when about to announce the intention of Heaven, that she should become the mother of Jesus; and such the strain which we cannot help feeling disposed to adopt, while recording her illustrious name, and... more...

In connection with the work of the Tropical Research Station of the New York Zoological Society, conducted by Mr. William Beebe, collections of insects, including bees, were made. The present report deals with a series of bees from the Bartica District, and Mr. John Tee Van, in forwarding them, states that "almost all of these bees were procured about a clump of several species of nightshades... more...

CHAPTER I—THE STRANGE LAD ‘Goodness!  If ever I did see such a pig!’ said Ellen King, as she mounted the stairs.  ‘I wouldn’t touch him with a pair of tongs!’ ‘Who?’ said a voice from the bedroom. ‘Why, that tramper who has just been in to buy a loaf!  He is a perfect pig, I declare!  I only wonder you did not find of him up here!  The police ought to hinder such folk from coming... more...

Lee slid off the examining table and began buttoning his shirt. He had had a medical examination every six months of his adult life, and it always seemed strange to him that, despite the banks of machines the doctor had which could practically map a man from a single cell outward, each examination always entailed the cold end of a stethoscope against his chest. He tucked his shirt into his pants and... more...

How They Broke Away to Go to theRootabaga Country Gimme the Ax lived in a house where everything is the same as it always was. “The chimney sits on top of the house and lets the smoke out,” said Gimme the Ax. “The doorknobs open the doors. The windows are always either open or shut. We are always either upstairs or downstairs in this house. Everything is the same as it always was.” So he... more...