Fiction Books

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PROLOGUE. It was the month of January, 1516. The night was dark and tempestuous; the thunder growled around; the lightning flashed at short intervals: and the wind swept furiously along in sudden and fitful gusts. The streams of the great Black Forest of Germany babbled in playful melody no more, but rushed on with deafening din, mingling their torrent roar with the wild creaking of the huge oaks, the... more...

A BRIDGE OF PERIL No more delightful experience may be had than to wake up in the harbour of Aden some fine morning—it is always fine there—and get the first impression of that mighty fortress, with its thousand iron eyes, in strong repose by the Arabian Sea. Overhead was the cloudless sun, and everywhere the tremulous glare of a sandy shore and the creamy wash of the sea, like fusing opals. A tiny... more...

ODE FOR THE QUEEN'S JUBILEE. 1837-1887. I Sailor William is dead. And now  Toll the great bells disconsolate.    Let the maiden have time for tearsEre you set on her gentle brow  England's glittering crown of state.    Heavy burden for eighteen years.Grant the maiden some weeping spaceEre on her youthful brow you place      England's crown.Once her stately head it... more...

OF CONVERSATION AND THE ANATOMY OF FASHION This uncle of mine, you must understand, having attained—by the purest accident—some trifles of distinction and a certain affluence in South Africa, came over at the earliest opportunity to London to be photographed and lionised. He took to fame easily, as one who had long prepared in secret. He lurked in my chambers for a week while the new dress suit was... more...

Zack Stewart stared sleepily into the bottom of his cracked coffee cup as his wife began to gather the breakfast dishes. Mrs. Stewart was a huge, methodical woman, seasoned to the drudgery of a farm wife. Quite methodically she'd arise every morning at 4:00 A.M. with her husband and each would do their respective chores until long after the sun had set on their forty-acre farm. "You've... more...

THE SCHOONER. The great Pacific is the scene of our story. On a beautiful morning, many years ago, a little schooner might have been seen floating, light and graceful as a seamew, on the breast of the slumbering ocean. She was one of those low, black-hulled vessels, with raking, taper masts, trimly-cut sails, and elegant form, which we are accustomed to associate with the idea of a yacht or a pirate.... more...

INTRODUCTION The Starman Team dedicated its first book, Assault On Mars, to Joseph Greene, the late author of the Dig Allen series which was the inspiration for the Starman series. A complimentary copy was sent to his son Paul, who was moved by the tribute. We then asked Paul to write an introduction to The Runaway Asteroid. The following is his response-surely one of the most unusual introductions in... more...

ne day Ned got a pie to eat. It was too hot, so he put it out in the air, on the lid of a big tin pot. And now he ran off to see his dog who had a pup, and his cat who had a kit. The pup lay in a box. Ned had got hay to put in the box for a bed; the pup lay on the hay, and the kit lay on a bit of rug. Ned did pat the pup on his ear, and say: "O you pet! let me hug you." By and by, he did pat... more...

CHAPTER I LORENZO—"Il Magnifico." GIULIANO—"Il Pensieroso." "Signori!" "Signori!" Such was the stirring cry which resounded through the lofty Council Chamber of the famous Palazzo Vecchio that dull December day in the year 1469. Never had such a title been accorded to any one in Florence, where every man was as good as, if not better than, his neighbour. Foreign... more...

CHAPTER I. FATHERLESS. t was an artist's studio, a poor, shabby little place, with a latticed window facing the north. There was nothing in the furnishing or arrangement of the room to suggest successful work, or even artistic taste. A few tarnished gold frames leaned against the gaudily-papered wall, and the only picture stood on the dilapidated easel in the middle of the floor, a small canvas of... more...