Fiction Books

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CHAPTER I. THE GOLDEN BUTTERFLY. “Roy! Roy! where are you?” Peggy Prescott came flying down the red-brick path, a rustling newspaper clutched in her hand. “Here I am, sis,—what’s up?” The door of a long, low shed at the farther end of the old-fashioned garden opened as a clattering sound of hammering abruptly ceased. Roy Prescott, a wavy-haired, blue-eyed lad of seventeen, or thereabouts,... more...

CHAPTER I.PLANTS AS A SOURCE OF REVENUE. With the single exception of ginseng, the hundred of plants whose roots are used for medical purposes, America is the main market and user. Ginseng is used mainly by the Chinese. The thickly inhabited Chinese Empire is where the American ginseng is principally used. To what uses it is put may be briefly stated, as a superstitious beverage. The roots with certain... more...

His head hurt like blazes, but he was alive, and to be alive meant fighting like hell to stay that way. That was the first thing returning consciousness told him. The next was that his helmet should have been cracked wide open when the bum landing had wrenched the acceleration hammocks out of their suspension sockets and heaved his suited body across the buckled conning deck. It should've been,... more...

THE STEAMBOAT LEVEE Saturday, April, 1852. There was a fervor in the sky as of an August noon, although the clocks of the city would presently strike five. Dazzling white clouds, about to show the earliest flush of the sun's decline, beamed down upon a turbid river harbor, where the water was deep so close inshore that the port's unbroken mile of steamboat wharf nowhere stretched out into the... more...

GIGOLO THE AFTERNOON OF A FAUN Though he rarely heeded its summons—cagy boy that he was—the telephone rang oftenest for Nick. Because of the many native noises of the place, the telephone had a special bell that was a combination buzz and ring. It sounded above the roar of outgoing cars, the splash of the hose, the sputter and hum of the electric battery in the rear. Nick heard it, unheeding. A... more...

by: F. Anstey
AN INTERCESSOR. IN the heart of the City, but fended off from the roar and rattle of traffic by a ring of shops, and under the shadow of a smoke-begrimed classical church, stands—or rather stood, for they have removed it recently—the large public school of St. Peter's. Entering the heavy old gate, against which the shops on both sides huddled close, you passed into the atmosphere of scholastic... more...

"Okay, make another check on the reading."Grim terror lurked in the void many light years from Earth. But Pinkham and his men were unaware of it—until suddenly they discovered—The Giants From Outer Space"I've made four checks already—" "Damn it, make another!" "It's no use, Pink. The life-scanner's never wrong." "No possibility of a monkey wrench... more...

THE GIANT OF BERNAND ORM UNGERSWAYNE It was the lofty Jutt of Bern   O’er all the walls he grew;He was mad and ne’er at rest,   To tame him no one knew. He was mad and ne’er at rest,   No lord could hold him in;If he had long in Denmark stayed   Much damage there had been. It was the lofty Jutt of Bern   Bound to his side his glaive,And away to the monarch’s house he rode   With the... more...

The Ghost-Ship Fairfield is a little village lying near the Portsmouth Road about half-way between London and the sea. Strangers who find it by accident now and then, call it a pretty, old-fashioned place; we who live in it and call it home don't find anything very pretty about it, but we should be sorry to live anywhere else. Our minds have taken the shape of the inn and the church and the green,... more...

GHOSTS THAT HAVE HAUNTED ME A FEW SPIRIT REMINISCENCES If we could only get used to the idea that ghosts are perfectly harmless creatures, who are powerless to affect our well-being unless we assist them by giving way to our fears, we should enjoy the supernatural exceedingly, it seems to me. Coleridge, I think it was, was once asked by a lady if he believed in ghosts, and he replied, "No, madame;... more...