Fiction Books

CHAPTER I Stanbury Hill, remote but two hours' walk from a region blasted with mine and factory and furnace, shelters with its western slope a fair green valley, a land of meadows and orchard, untouched by poisonous breath. At its foot lies the village of Wanley. The opposite side of the hollow is clad with native wood, skirting for more than a mile the bank of a shallow stream, a tributary of the... more...

PROLOGUE At the piano a man sat playing the "Revolutionary Étude" of Chopin. The room was magnificent in its proportions, its furnishings were massive, its paneled oak walls were hung with portraits of men and women in the costumes of a bygone day. Through the lofty windows, the casements of which were open to the evening sky there was a vista of forest and meadow-land stretching interminably... more...

CHAPTER I So we settled it all when the storm was doneAs comf'y as comf'y could be;And I was to wait in the barn, my dears,Because I was only three;And Teddy would run to the rainbow's foot,Because he was five and a man;And that's how it all began, my dears,And that's how it all began. —Big Barn Stories. 'WHAT do you think she'd do if she caught us? We oughtn't... more...

His fingers moved over the modest packet of bills the invisible rockhound had handed to him. He smiled through the eternal night that was his own personal hell. Duggan's Hades. "Thanks, Pete," he said gratefully. "Here, have a box of Conmos." His sensitized fingers found the cigars, handed over a box, and he heard the nervous scuff of the other's shoes. "This eight... more...

A DESCENT ON LONDON On a day in August, in one of those swiftly-moving years which hurried Europe towards the catastrophe awaiting it, there arrived in London a couple of unusual appearance, striking, charming, and amusing. The man was tall, big, and queerly compounded of sensitive beauty and stodgy awkwardness. He entered London with an air of hostility; sniffed distastefully the smells of the... more...

The black-emerald water swirled and broke in many silver gleamings. From the misty center of the pool rose a vast but beautiful head. The long dripping hair was not hair, but had a rippling life of its own. The great lonely eyes and wide scarlet mouth were far more lovely than any human's. The gleaming green shoulders and shapely long arms ended in graceful webbed fingers. The red tipped breasts... more...

C H A P. I. Who is a Surgeon? A Person skill'd in curing Diseases incident to Humane Bodies by a methodical Application of the Hand. What are the Qualifications of a good Surgeon in general? They are three in Number: viz. Skill in the Theory, Experience in the Practical part, and a gentle Application of the Hand. Why ought a Surgeon to be skilful? Because without a discerning Faculty he can... more...

I. INTRODUCTION Of the nations which have contributed to the direct stream of civilization, Egypt and Mesopotamia are at present believed to be the oldest. The chronological dispute as to the relative antiquity of the two countries is of minor importance; for while in Babylonia the historical material is almost entirely inscriptional, in Egypt we know the handicrafts, the weapons, the arts, and, to a... more...

CHAPTER I A MYSTERIOUS VISITATION "Who's there?" demanded Christy Passford, sitting up in his bed, in the middle of the night, in his room on the second floor of his father's palatial mansion on the Hudson, where the young lieutenant was waiting for a passage to the Gulf. There was no answer to his inquiry. "Who's there?" he repeated in a louder tone. All was as still as... more...

There are—and very probably will always be—some Terrestrials who can't, and for that matter don't want, to call their souls their own.... Xanabar lays across the Spiral Arm, a sprawling sphere of influence vast, mighty, solid at the core. Only the far-flung boundary shows the slight ebb and flow of contingent cultures that may win a system or two today and lose them back tomorrow or a... more...