Fiction Books

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After awhile the blinding light was like actual physical pressure against his tightly squinched eyes. He tried to burrow deeper into the protectively warm, cave-like place where he'd been safe from them for so long. But he couldn't escape them. Their hands, their big, red, hideously smooth hands had him, now. They were tugging and pulling at him with a strength impossible to fight. Still he... more...

BLUNDELL'S IMPROVEMENT Venia Turnbull in a quiet, unobtrusive fashion was enjoying herself. The cool living-room at Turnbull's farm was a delightful contrast to the hot sunshine without, and the drowsy humming of bees floating in at the open window was charged with hints of slumber to the middle-aged. From her seat by the window she watched with amused interest the efforts of her... more...

CHAPTER I Ah wuz a fiel' han' fo' Ah sailed de sea, Wisht Ah wuz a fiel' han' now. Dis konk'rin' hero business don' make no hit wid me— Wisht Ah wuz a fiel' han' now. "Gimme back a nickel! How come coffee ten cents? Gimme back 'at nickel befo' bofe ob us is on de same side ob de lunch counter." "You an' a policeman, you... more...

I. On the morning of the 9th of May, 18—, three persons important to this story stood among the passengers on the deck of the Isle of Man steamship Tynwald as she lay by the pier at Douglas getting up steam for the passage to Liverpool. One of these was an old clergyman of seventy, with a sweet, mellow, childlike face; another was a young man of thirty, also a clergyman; the third was a girl of... more...

PREFACE As this Story is of a species which, though not new, is out of the common track, it has been thought necessary to point out some circumstances to the reader, which will elucidate the design, and, it is hoped, will induce him to form a favourable, as well as a right judgment of the work before him. This Story is the literary offspring of The Castle of Otranto, written upon the same plan, with a... more...

CHAPTER I. UNWILLING PASSENGERS. "What is your name, boy?" "Joe Curtis, sir." "And your number? " " Two hundred and ninety-seven." " Very well, now listen to what I say, and see that you do exactly as I tell you. I am going to Providence by the Sound steamer that sails in an hour and a half; take these tickets, go to the office of the boat, get the key of the... more...

AIMS AND THE PLAN The author's main purpose in this book is to teach precision in writing; and of good writing (which, essentially, is clear thinking made visible) precision is the point of capital concern. It is attained by choice of the word that accurately and adequately expresses what the writer has in mind, and by exclusion of that which either denotes or connotes something else. As... more...

Mississippi Federal WritersSlave AutobiographiesJim Allen, Clay Co.FECMrs. Ed Joiner [JIM ALLENWest Point, Mississippi] Jim Allen, West Point, age 87, lives in a shack furnished by the city. With him lives his second wife, a much older woman. Both he and his wife have a reputation for being "queer" and do not welcome outside visitors. However, he readily gave an interview and seemed most... more...

AT THE NORTHWEST. The scene is changed; and we find ourselves transported beyond a doubt to the far-famed city of Winnipeg—that emporium of wealth, enterprise and industry which arose from its prairie surroundings as by the magic of the enchanter's wand. It is a bright, cheerful day in leafy June, and as one jogs leisurely adown Main street, there are to be seen many happy smiling faces. But we... more...

Chapter I. The Fall of the House of Frode Full stocked foldsI saw at the sons of Fitjung,Now they carry beggars' staffs;Wealth isLike the twinkling of an eye,The most unstable of friends.Ha'vama'l. As the blackness of the midsummer night paled, the broken towers and wrecked walls of the monastery loomed up dim and stark in the gray light. The long-drawn sigh of a waking world crept... more...