Fiction Books

I, Q. K. P. Doesticks, of No Hall, Nowhere; No Castle, no Villa, no Place, Court, or Terrace; Who didn’t write “Junius,” or “Nothing to Wear,” Who never have visited London or Paris; Who am not a phantom, a myth, or a mystery, But a “homo,” as solid as any of history; As real as Antony, Cæsar, or Brutus,— A wide-awake Yankee, so “tarnation ’cute” as To always write Nothings,... more...

In this short monograph I do not pretend to give anything more than a Sketch of the Folk-lore to be found among the Borneans. The island is large, and the people, scattered and isolated by constant inter-tribal warfare, differ one tribe from another, in language, customs and appearance almost more than do Germans, French, or English; to say that any tradition or custom is common to all the tribes, or... more...

CHAPTER I GOOD-BY, BRIGHTON "Wanted: young men to enlist in Uncle Sam's submarine fleet for service in European waters." The magic words stood out in bold type from the newspaper that Jack Hammond held spread out over his knees. Underneath the caption ran a detailed statement setting forth the desire of the United States Government to recruit at once a great force of young Americans to man... more...

PREFACE I. Birth and Parentage—Characteristics of the Goldsmith Race—PoeticalBirthplace—Goblin House—Scenes of Boyhood—Lissoy—Picture of a CountryParson—Goldsmith's Schoolmistress—Byrne, the Village Schoolmaster—Goldsmith's Hornpipe and Epigram—Uncle Contarine—School Studies andSchool Sports—Mistakes of a Night II. Improvident Marriages in the Goldsmith... more...

I IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE BOARD Dust lay thick along the road that led through the very heart of the native quarter of Mangadone; dust raised into a misty haze which hung in the air and actually introduced a light undernote of red into the effect. Dust, which covered the bare feet of the coolies, the velvet slippers of the Burmese, which encroached everywhere... more...

CHAPTER I.LORD DOLPHIN INTRODUCES HIMSELFNow who ever heard of a fish's sitting up and telling his own story! Oh, you needn't laugh, you young Folks, perhaps you will find that I can make out very well, considering. Of course I have been among "Folks," else I could never use your language or know anything about you and your ways. A message is not received direct from the depths of the... more...

CHAPTER IOnceupon a time there was a little chimney-sweep, and his name was Tom. That is a short name, and you have heard it before, so you will not have much trouble in remembering it. He lived in a great town in the North country, where there were plenty of chimneys to sweep, and plenty of money for Tom to earn and his master to spend. He could not read nor write, and did not care to do either; and... more...

CHAPTER I THE PIECE OF WOOD THAT LAUGHED AND CRIED LIKE A CHILD There was once upon a time a piece of wood in the shop of an old carpenter named Master Antonio. Everybody, however, called him Master Cherry, on account of the end of his nose, which was always as red and polished as a ripe cherry. No sooner had Master Cherry set eyes on the piece of wood than his face beamed with delight, and, rubbing... more...

CHAPTER I. June 18—. Squire Hawkins sat upon the pyramid of large blocks, called the "stile," in front of his house, contemplating the morning. The locality was Obedstown, East Tennessee. You would not know that Obedstown stood on the top of a mountain, for there was nothing about the landscape to indicate it—but it did: a mountain that stretched abroad over whole counties, and rose very... more...

The Cauldron The factory saw-toothed the horizon with its hideous profile as the moon rose in the east. The red glow of the furnaces bathed the tall buildings, the gigantic scaffolds, the cord-like elevated pipelines and the columnar smokestacks in the crimson of anger. Even the moon seemed to fade as the long-fingered smokestacks reached toward it belching their pollution. The air, which should have... more...