Fiction Books

Chapter I THE MAN WHO FEARED SLEEP Peter Brooks felt himself for a man given up. He had felt his physical unfitness for some time in the silent, condemning judgment masked under the too sympathetic gaze of his fellow-men; he had felt it in the over-solicitous inquiries after his health made by the staff; and there was his chief, who had fallen into the comfortable week-end habit of telling him he... more...

INTRODUCTIONS. I. Never introduce persons to each other without a knowledge that it will be agreeable to both parties; this may sometimes be ascertained without a formal question: very great intimacy with and knowledge of each party may be a sufficient assurance that the introduction will be agreeable. The inferior should always be introduced to the superior—ladies take precedence of gentlemen; you... more...

CHAPTER I. ONE IN SEARCH OF A KINGDOM Why Gaston Belward left the wholesome North to journey afar, Jacques Brillon asked often in the brawling streets of New York, and oftener in the fog of London as they made ready to ride to Ridley Court. There was a railway station two miles from the Court, but Belward had had enough of railways. He had brought his own horse Saracen, and Jacques's broncho also,... more...

CHAPTER I.                "The knight of arts and industry,               And his achievements fair."     THOMSON'S Castle of Indolence: Explanatory Verse to Canto II. In a popular and respectable, but not very fashionable quartier in Paris, and in the tolerably broad and effective locale of the Rue ——, there might be seen, at the time I now treat of,... more...

TO HIS LOVING FRIEND THE AUTHOR, UPON HIS TRAGEDY "THE REBELLION."To praise thee, friend, and show the reason why,Issues from honest love, not flattery.My will is not to flatter, nor for spiteTo praise or dispraise, but to do thee rightProud daring rebels in their impious wayOf Machiavellian darkness this thy playExactly shows; speaks thee truth's satirist,Rebellion's foe, time's... more...

CHAPTER I A watery July sun was hurrying toward a Punjab sky-line, as if weary of squandering his strength on men who did not mind, and resentful of the unexplainable—a rainy-weather field-day. The cold steel and khaki of native Indian cavalry at attention gleamed motionless between British infantry and two batteries of horse artillery. The only noticeable sound was the voice of a general officer,... more...

BY THE CAMP-FIRE That afternoon a strange thing had happened to the camp of the Prince of Orange, which was pitched near Nivelle in Brabant, for the Prince was then challenging Condé, who stuck behind his trenches at Charleroi and would not come out to fight. A dusty-colored cloud came racing along the sky so swiftly––yet there was no wind to be felt––that it was above the camp almost as soon... more...

INTRODUCTION. Though some of the essays in this volume have appeared in various serials, the majority of them were written expressly for their present purpose, and they are now arranged in a designed order.  During some years of study of Greek, Indian, and savage mythologies, I have become more and more impressed with a sense of the inadequacy of the prevalent method of comparative mythology.  That... more...

CHAPTER I. To the student of political history, and to the English student above all others, the conversion of the Roman Republic into a military empire commands a peculiar interest. Notwithstanding many differences, the English and the Romans essentially resemble one another. The early Romans possessed the faculty of self-government beyond any people of whom we have historical knowledge, with the one... more...

CHAPTER I HICKS—WILD WEST BAD MAN   "Oh, a bold, bad man was Chuckwalla Bill—  An' he lived in a shanty on Tom-cat Hill;  Ten notches on the six-gun he toted on his hip—  For he'd sent ten buckos on the One-way Trip!" Big Butch Brewster, captain and full-back of the Bannister College football squad, his behemoth bulk swathed in heavy blankets and crowded into a narrow... more...