Categories
- Antiques & Collectibles 13
- Architecture 36
- Art 48
- Bibles 22
- Biography & Autobiography 815
- Body, Mind & Spirit 144
- Business & Economics 28
- Children's Books 15
- Children's Fiction 11
- Computers 4
- Cooking 94
- Crafts & Hobbies 4
- Drama 346
- Education 62
- Family & Relationships 59
- Fiction 11837
- Foreign Language Study 1
- Games 19
- Gardening 17
- Health & Fitness 34
- History 1380
- House & Home 1
- Humor 147
- Juvenile Fiction 1873
- Juvenile Nonfiction 202
- Language Arts & Disciplines 89
- Law 16
- Literary Collections 687
- Literary Criticism 179
- Mathematics 13
- Medical 43
- Music 40
- Nature 180
- Non-Classifiable 1768
- Performing Arts 7
- Periodicals 1453
- Philosophy 65
- Photography 2
- Poetry 897
- Political Science 205
- Psychology 44
- Reference 154
- Religion 515
- Science 127
- Self-Help 85
- Social Science 83
- Sports & Recreation 34
- Study Aids 3
- Technology & Engineering 60
- Transportation 23
- Travel 463
- True Crime 29
Sort by:
by:
Alan Mattox
The star ship came out of space drive for the last time, and made its final landing on a scrubby little planet that circled a small and lonely sun. It came to ground gently, with the cushion of a retarder field, on the side of the world where it was night. In the room that would have been known as the bridge on ships of other days, instrument lights glowed softly on Captain Renner's cropped white...
more...
by:
Richard Barnum
CHAPTER I MAPPO AND THE COCOANUT Once upon a time, not so very many years ago, there lived in a tree, in a big woods, a little monkey boy. It was in a far-off country, where this little monkey lived, so far that you would have to travel many days in the steam cars, and in a steamship, to get there. The name of the little monkey boy was Mappo, and he had two brothers and two sisters, and also a papa and...
more...
by:
Angela Brazil
CHAPTER I A Wet-day Party Drip, drip, drip! The rain came pouring down on a certain September afternoon, turning the tennis lawn to a swamp, dashing the bloom off the roses, spoiling the geraniums, and driving even the blackbirds and thrushes to seek shelter inside the summer house. It was that steady, settled, hopeless rain that does not hold out the slightest promise of ever stopping; there was not a...
more...
by:
Thomas Bulfinch
If no other knowledge deserves to be called useful but that which helps to enlarge our possessions or to raise our station in society, then Mythology has no claim to the appellation. But if that which tends to make us happier and better can be called useful, then we claim that epithet for our subject. For Mythology is the handmaid of literature; and literature is one of the best allies of virtue and...
more...
by:
Florence Daniel
Part I.—introductory While there is Fruit there is hope. While there is life—and fruit—there is hope. When this truth is realised by the laity nine hundred and ninety-nine out of every thousand professors of the healing art will be obliged to abandon their profession and take to fruit-growing for a living. Many people have heard vaguely of the "grape cure" for diseases arising from...
more...
INTRODUCTION It was about a decade ago that Professor E.R.A. Seligman of Columbia University published his valuable work on the "Economic Interpretation of History," which gave a great impetus to the study, by historians, of the economic influences upon political and social development. Professor Seligman showed conclusively that one of the most potent forces in the growth of civilization has...
more...
My parents, John and Mary Sheridan, came to America in 1830, having been induced by the representations of my father's uncle, Thomas Gainor, then living in Albany, N. Y., to try their fortunes in the New World: They were born and reared in the County Cavan, Ireland, where from early manhood my father had tilled a leasehold on the estate of Cherrymoult; and the sale of this leasehold provided him...
more...
by:
Hannah More
INTRODUCTION. It is with the utmoÃ
¿t diffidence that the following pages are Ã
¿ubmitted to the inÃ
¿pection of the Public: yet, however the limited abilities of the author may have prevented her from Ã
¿ucceeding to her wiÃ
¿h in the execution of her preÃ
¿ent attempt, Ã
¿he humbly truÃ
¿ts that the uprightneÃ
¿s of her intention will procure it a candid...
more...
by:
Kate Greenaway
SUSAN BLUE. Oh, Susan Blue, How do you do? Please may I go for a walk with you? Where shall we go? Oh, I know— Down in the meadow where the cowslips grow![5] Little Blue Shoes Mustn't go Very far alone, you know Else she'll fall down, Or, lose her way; Fancy—what Would mamma say? Better put her little hand Under sister's wise command. When she's a little older grown Blue Shoes...
more...
by:
Unknown
HAPPY LITTLE EDWARD. Edward Jones was about four years old. He was a good, and of course a happy little boy, and he lived in a beautiful city in Connecticut, with his kind parents, and his brothers and sisters, and a dear good aunt, who took care of him. Edward's mother had a sister living in Massachusetts, who was the wife of a farmer, and one beautiful Spring morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jones...
more...