Fiction Books

THE BALCONY There is much of life passed on the balcony in a country where the summer unrolls in six moon-lengths, and where the nights have to come with a double endowment of vastness and splendor to compensate for the tedious, sun-parched days. And in that country the women love to sit and talk together of summer nights, on balconies, in their vague, loose, white garments,—men are not balcony... more...

CHAPTER I. SNOW had been falling for more than three hours, the large flakes dropping silently through the still air until the earth was covered with an even carpet many inches in depth. It was past midnight. The air, which had been so still, was growing restless and beginning to whirl the snow into eddies and drive it about in an angry kind of way, whistling around sharp corners and rattling every... more...

THE SUBSTITUTE The night watchman had just returned to the office fire after leaving it to attend a ring at the wharf bell. He sat for some time puffing fiercely at his pipe and breathing heavily. "Boys!" he said, at last. "That's the third time this week, and yet if I was to catch one and skin 'im alive I suppose I should get into trouble over it. Even 'is own father and... more...

PREFACE Since the appearance of the Stanford Revision of the Binet-Simon Intelligence Scale I have been frequently urged to prepare a condensed guide which would make the application of the tests easier and more convenient. I have hesitated somewhat to act upon this suggestion because I have not wished to encourage the use of the scale without the supplementary directions and explanations which are set... more...

CHAPTER I. MRS. DAY BEGINS THE STORY. I am old, else, I think, I should not have the courage to tell the story I am going to tell. All those concerned in it about whose feelings I am careful, are gone where, thank God, there are no secrets! If they know what I am doing, I know they do not mind. If they were alive to read as I record, they might perhaps now and again look a little paler and wish the... more...

A scream of brakes, the splash into icy waters, a long descent into alkaline depths ... it was death. But Ned Vince lived again—a million years later! "See you in half an hour, Betty," said Ned Vince over the party telephone. "We'll be out at the Silver Basket before ten-thirty...." Ned Vince was eager for the company of the girl he loved. That was why he was in a hurry to get to... more...

CHAPTER I. THE PARLOR. In the dusk of the old-fashioned best room of a farm-house, in the faint glow of the buried sun through the sods of his July grave, sat two elderly persons, dimly visible, breathing the odor which roses unseen sent through the twilight and open window. One of the two was scarcely conscious of the odor, for she did not believe in roses; she believed mainly in mahogany, linen, and... more...

THE TELEGRAM. 'BREVOORT HOUSE, NEW YORK, Oct. 6th, 18—. 'To Mr. Frank Tracy, Tracy Park, Shannondale. 'I arrived in the Scotia this morning, and shall take the train for Shannondale at 3 p.m. Send someone to the station to meet us. 'ARTHUR TRACEY.' This was the telegram which the clerk in the Shannonville office wrote out one October morning, and despatched to the Hon. Frank... more...

CHAPTER I. In a dark, dirty, foul-smelling room back of a small ship-chandler's store on West Street, four sailormen were seated at a table, drinking, quarreling, cursing. The bottle from which they had imbibed too freely contained a villainous compound that ensured their host a handsome profit, set their brains afire, and degraded them to the level of the beast. Not that their condition in life... more...

A LITTLE FRECKLED PERSON They think I'm just a little girlAt study, work, or play,—A little freckled person whoHas never much to say. They do not know a princess oftIn golden gown am I,With cheeks like apple petals softAnd eyes like sea or sky. They only see my tumbled braids,They do not know I wearA crown with turquoises and berylsUpon my coiled-up hair. They do not know adventures direBeset... more...