Fiction Books

PICTURE.   Winter's wild birthnight! In the fretful East  The uneasy wind moans with its sense of cold,  And sends its sighs through gloomy mountain gorge,  Along the valley, up the whitening hill,  To tease the sighing spirits of the pines,  And waste in dismal woods their chilly life.  The sky is dark, and on the huddled leaves—  The restless, rustling leaves—sifts down its... more...

CHAPTER I. During the summer of 1840, the aspect of the political horizon in Affghanistān afforded but slight grounds for prognosticating the awful catastrophe which two short years after befel the British arms. Dost Mahommed had not yet given himself up, but was a fugitive, and detained by the King of Bokhara, while many of the principal Sirdars had already tendered their allegiance... more...

CHAPTER I. Where the North Fork of the Stanislaus River begins to lose its youthful grace, vigor, and agility, and broadens more maturely into the plain, there is a little promontory which at certain high stages of water lies like a small island in the stream. To the strongly-marked heroics of Sierran landscape it contrasts a singular, pastoral calm. White and gray mosses from the overhanging rocks and... more...

CHAPTER I. ON THE OCEAN. "Have you decided to go?" inquired my friend. Before us on the table lay an illustrated booklet containing the prospectus of a cruise to the Mediterranean. Its contents had been under consideration for some days. "Yes," I answered, "I will write to-day to secure state room accommodations for our party. Nevertheless I am not quite sure that it is wise to take... more...

INTRODUCTION It was on the great northern road from York to London, about the beginning of the month of October, and the hour of eight in the evening, that four travellers were, by a violent shower of rain, driven for shelter into a little public-house on the side of the highway, distinguished by a sign which was said to exhibit the figure of a black lion. The kitchen, in which they assembled, was the... more...

Story-telling is almost the oldest art in the world—the first conscious form of literary communication. In the East it still survives, and it is not an uncommon thing to see a crowd at a street corner held by the simple narration of a story. There are signs in the West of a growing interest in this ancient art, and we may yet live to see the renaissance of the troubadours and the minstrels whose... more...

CHAPTER ONE THE RIM AND WHAT LAY BENEATH IT Not all of the West is tamed and trained to run smoothly on pneumatic tires and to talk more enthusiastically of the different “makes” of cars than of bits and saddles. There are still wide stretches unknown of tourists and movie men hunting locations for Western melodrama where men live in the full flavor of adventure and romance and never know it,... more...

INTRODUCTION When the traveller, bent on some important quest, makes a prolonged and perilous journey and returns in safety to his friends and neighbors, instinctively those who have known him in former years realize that he is, and he is not, the same person who had dwelt among them. He has seen unfamiliar peoples, traversed strange lands, encountered unexpected dangers. Old prepossessions have been... more...

The following new species were found in the course of an examination of material in the American Museum of Natural History collected by Dr. F. E. Lutz and Mr. Charles W. Leng in Cuba and by Dr. Lutz in Porto Rico. The types are in that institution. Mecolœsthus signatus n. sp. Cephalothorax pale, with black median mark, wider at head; sternum reddish or yellowish. Abdomen pale, with a black median... more...

Chapter I Banbridge lies near enough to the great City to perceive after nightfall, along the southern horizon, the amalgamated glow of its multitudinous eyes of electric fire. In the daytime the smoke of its mighty breathing, in its race of progress and civilization, darkens the southern sky. The trains of great railroad systems speed between Banbridge and the City. Half the male population of... more...