Fiction Books

THE BRONCKHORST DIVORCE-CASE By Rudyard Kipling (Civil and Military Gazette, 26 September 1884) In the daytime, when she moved about me,    In the night, when she was sleeping at my side,—I was wearied, I was wearied of her presence,Day by day and night by night I grew to hate her—    Would God that she or I had died! —CONFESSIONS There was a man called Bronckhorst—a three-cornered,... more...

  never thought I'd like circus life, but a year of it has changed me. It's in my blood now and I suppose I'll never give it up—even if they'd let me. This job is better than anything I could get in the newspaper racket. I work all summer, it's true, but I get the winter off, though some of the offers for winter work are mighty tempting. Maybe if I hadn't been kicked... more...

My birth, parentage, and education.—Make the acquaintance of Tom Rockets.—Sent to sea on board the Folkstone cutter, Anno 1764.—Numerous voyages.—My friends and I appear on the quarter-deck of the Torbay, 74.—Join the Falcon.—My only duel.—Adventures in the West Indies.—The Carib war.—Boat capsized.—Fate of her crew.—Appointed to the Wolf. On the north-east side of the street,... more...

THE PURPLE PARASOL Young Rossiter did not like the task. The more he thought of it as he whirled northward on the Empire State Express the more distasteful it seemed to grow. "Hang it all," he thought, throwing down his magazine in disgust, "it's like police work. And heaven knows I haven't wanted to be a cop since we lived in Newark twenty years ago. Why the dickens did old... more...

VIRGIL, TASSO, AND RAPHAEL. Originality of conception and fidelity of observation in general mark the efforts of genius in the earlier ages of society; and it is then, accordingly, that those creative minds appear which stamp their own impress upon the character of a whole people, and communicate to their literature, in the most distant periods, a certain train of thought, a certain class of images, a... more...

Story-Tell Lib That was what everybody in the little mountain village called her. Her real name, as she often told me, ringing out each syllable proudly in her shrill sweet voice, was Elizabeth Rowena Marietta York. A stately name, indeed, for the little crippled, stunted, helpless creature, and I myself could never think of her by any name but the one the village people used, Story-tell Lib. I had... more...

1 Of the four men, Hal Sinclair was the vital spirit. In the actual labor of mining, the mighty arms and tireless back Of Quade had been a treasure. For knowledge of camping, hunting, cooking, and all the lore of the trail, Lowrie stood as a valuable resource; and Sandersen was the dreamy, resolute spirit, who had hoped for gold in those mountains until he came to believe his hope. He had gathered... more...

Some of our readers are not likely yet to have forgotten the remarkable essay which the late Professor Brewer contributed to our pages in 1871, and which has since been reprinted in the volume of 'English Studies,' published shortly after the author's death in 1879. English History owes a larger debt to few men of our time than it owes to Mr. Brewer. As a teacher whose pupils were always... more...

CHAPTER ONE Jed Cochrane tried to be cynical as the helicab hummed softly through the night over the city. The cab flew at two thousand feet, where lighted buildings seemed to soar toward it from the canyons which were streets. There were lights and people everywhere, and Cochrane sardonically reminded himself that he was no better than anybody else, only he'd been trying to keep from realizing... more...

No description available