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Fiction Books
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by:
Horatio Alger
CHAPTER I THE MINISTER'S SON "I wish we were not so terribly poor, Grant," said Mrs. Thornton, in a discouraged tone. "Is there anything new that makes you say so, mother?" answered the boy of fifteen, whom she addressed. "Nothing new, only the same old trouble. Here is a note from Mr.Tudor, the storekeeper." "Let me see it, mother." Grant took a yellow envelope...
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by:
Irving E. Cox
[p54] Mryna Brill intended to ride the god-car above the rain mist. For a long time she had not believed in the taboos or the Earth-god. She no longer believed she lived on Earth. This paradise of green-floored forests and running brooks was something called Rythar. Six years ago, when Mryna was fourteen, she first discovered the truth. She asked a question and the Earth-god ignored it. A simple...
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by:
Louis Tracy
CHAPTER I The Water Nymphs Does an evil deed cast a shadow in advance? Does premeditated crime spread a baleful aura which affects certain highly-strung temperaments just as the sensation of a wave of cold air rising from the spine to the head may be a forewarning of epilepsy or hysteria? John Trenholme had cause to think so one bright June morning in 1912, and he has never ceased to believe it, though...
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Definition of Etching.—To be able to get an impression on paper from a metal plate in a copper-plate printing-press, it is necessary to sink the lines of the design below the surface of the plate, so that each line is represented by a furrow. The plate is then inked all over, care being taken to fill each furrow, and finally the ink is cautiously wiped away from the surface, while the furrows are...
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by:
Horatio Alger
SQUIRE NEWCOME. "HANNAH!" The speaker was a tall, pompous-looking man, whose age appeared to verge close upon fifty. He was sitting bolt upright in a high-backed chair, and looked as if it would be quite impossible to deviate from his position of unbending rigidity. Squire Benjamin Newcome, as he was called, in the right of his position as Justice of the Peace, Chairman of the Selectmen, and...
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Chapter I. On a certain summer day, a few years ago, the little village of Briggsville, in Pennsylvania, was thrown into a state of excitement, the like of which was never known since the fearful night, a hundred years before, when a band of red men descended like a cyclone upon the little hamlet with its block-house, and left barely a dozen settlers alive to tell the story of the visitation to their...
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GOOD-BYE Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home:Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine.Long through thy weary crowds I roam;A river-ark on the ocean brine,Long I've been tossed like the driven foam:But now, proud world! I'm going home. Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face;To Grandeur with his wise grimace;To upstart Wealth's averted eye;To supple Office, low and high;To...
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CHAPTER I. In the western part of Pennsylvania, near the commencement of the Ohio river, stands a small town, which, at the close of the last century, numbered about thirty dwellings. Although properly a border settlement at the time mentioned, there were so many others beyond, that it was hardly regarded as being in the "Mighty West." The inhabitants were mostly farmers, possessed of large and...
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CHAPTER I I was genuinely tired when I got back to the office, that Wednesday afternoon, for it had been a trying day—the last of the series of trying days which had marked the progress of the Minturn case; and my feeling of depression was increased by the fact that our victory had not been nearly so complete as I had hoped it would be. Besides, there was the heat; always, during the past ten days,...
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