Fiction Books

Chapter IBirth, parentage, and early years – Christ's Hospital – Jesus College, Cambridge.[1772-1794.] On the 21st of October 1772 there was added to that roll of famous Englishmen of whom Devonshire boasts the parentage a new and not its least illustrious name. Samuel Taylor Coleridge was the son of the Rev. John Coleridge, vicar of Ottery St. Mary in that county, and head master of Henry... more...

CHAPTER I THE SAINT OF VICTORIA STREET Refinement had more power over the soul of Valentine Cresswell than religion. It governed him with a curious ease of supremacy, and held him back without effort from most of the young man's sins. Each age has its special sins. Each age passes them, like troops in review, before it decides what regiment it will join. Valentine had never decided to join any... more...

CHAPTER I Vulcan's Hammer The entire staff of the world-famed Spindrift Scientific Foundation gathered in the conference room of the big gray laboratory building on the southeast corner of Spindrift Island. It was unusual for the whole staff to be called to a meeting. Even more unusual—not a single member knew what the meeting was about. Rick Brant, son of the Spindrift Foundation's... more...

T was Friday, the day he always came, if (so she safeguarded it) he was to come at all. They had left it that way in the beginning, that it should be open to him to come or not to come. They had not even settled that it should be Fridays, but it always was, the week-end being the only time when he could get away; the only time, he had explained to Agatha Verrall, when getting away excited no remark. He... more...

CHAPTER I. THE EMIGRANTS. "What makes you keep that big blue sun-bonnet drawn so closely over your face? are you afraid of having it seen?" The person addressed was a pale, sickly-looking child about nine years of age, who, on the deck of the vessel Windermere, was gazing intently towards the distant shores of old England, which were fast receding from view. Near her a fine-looking boy of... more...

Chapter I IN THE LISTENING TIME HAS there ever been a time when no stories were told? Has there ever been a people who did not care to listen? I think not. When we were little, before we could read for ourselves, did we not gather eagerly round father or mother, friend or nurse, at the promise of a story? When we grew older, what happy hours did we not spend with our books. How the printed words made... more...

CHAPTER I. "Adieu, adieu! my native shoreFades o'er the waters blue,The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,And shrieks the wild sea-mew.Yon sun that sets upon the seaWe follow in his flight;Farewell awhile to him and thee,My native Land—Good night!"—BYRON. Late in the fall of the year 18—, I embarked on board the ship Cosmo, bound from the port of Bristol to that of New York. The... more...

To R. T.Three Guests at dinner! That's the life!—Wedgewood, Revere, and Duncan Phyfe! IIYou sit on Duncan—when you dare,—And out of Wedgewood, using care,With Paul Revere you eat your fare.From Paul you borrow fork and knifeTo wage a gastronomic strifeIn porringers; and platters rareOf blue Historic Willow-ware. IVBanquets with cymbal, drum and fife,Or rose-wreathed feasts with riot rifeTo... more...

The Young Man Who Was a Favourite Son Which would you say is the harder to bear, adversity or prosperity? I am not sure. If I were a betting man I would not know on which horse to put my money. The Bible says, "The destruction of the poor is their poverty." The narrowness and the meagreness of their lives, the lack of access to the highest interests seems to drive them oftentimes into the... more...

MRS. Amy Somers, in a lightly floating tea-gown of singularly becoming texture and color, employs the last moments of expectance before the arrival of her guests in marching up and down in front of the mirror which fills the space between the long windows of her drawing-room, looking over either shoulder for different effects of the drifting and eddying train, and advancing upon her image with certain... more...