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by Elia W. Peattie “WE must get married before time to put in crops,” he wrote. “We must make a success of the farm the

by Herman Melville A TIME ago, no matter how long precisely, I, an old man, removed from the country to the city, having become unexpected

by O. Henry I Supper was over, and there had fallen upon the camp the silence that accompanies the rolling of corn-husk cigarettes. The water

by Bret Harte As night crept up from the valley that stormy afternoon, Sawyer’s Ledge was at first quite blotted out by wind and rain,

by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu Being a Ninth Extract from the Legacy of the late Francis Purcell, P.P. of Drumcoolagh. Jim Sulivan was a dacent,

by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman This campy story by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman was published in The Children’s Book of Christmas Stories in 1913. It’s

Jo. Dunfer. Done for. by Ambrose Bierce I turned from it with indifference, and brushing away the leaves from the tablet of the dead pagan

by Arnold Bennett I All this happened at a Martinmas Fair in Bursley, long ago in the fifties, when everybody throughout the Five Towns pronounced

John Bartine’s Watch by Ambrose Bierce A Story by a Physician ‘The exact time? Good God! my friend, why do you insist? One would think

by Henry Lawson There are times when a man is happy. When he finds out that the girl loves him. When he’s just married. When

by Mark Twain As I passed along by one of those monster American tea stores in New York, I found a Chinaman sitting before it

by Anthony Trollope I am an Englishman, living, as all Englishman should do, in England, and my wife would not, I think, be well pleased

by William Makepeace Thackeray We, who can recall the consulship of Plancus, and quite respectable, old-fogyfied times, remember amongst other amusements which we had as

by Mark Twain “The church was densely crowded that lovely summer Sabbath,” said the Sunday-school superintendent, “and all, as their eyes rested upon the small

John Mortonson’s Funeral by Ambrose Bierce John Mortonson was dead: his lines in ‘the tragedy “Man”‘ had all been spoken and he had left the

by Mark Twain [Written about 1871.] The editor of the Memphis Avalanche swoops thus mildly down upon a correspondent who posted him as a Radical:–“While

Johnny-in-the-Woods by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman JOHNNY TRUMBULL, he who had demon- strated his claim to be Cock of the Walk by a most impious

Joy by Anton Chekhov Mitya Kuldarov, with excited face and ruffled hair, flew into his parents’ flat, and hurriedly ran through all the rooms. His

by William Dean Howells I believe I have no good reason for including among these suburban sketches my recollections of the Peace Jubilee, celebrated by

Juanita by Kate Chopin To all appearances and according to all accounts, Juanita is a character who does not reflect credit upon her family or

by Rudyard Kipling Gloriana! The Don may attack usWhenever his stomach be fain;He must reach us before he can rack us . . .And where

by H.H. Munro (SAKI) A figure in an indefinite tweed suit, carrying brown-paper parcels. That is what we met suddenly, at the bend of a

by Henry James She had walked with her friend to the top of the wide steps of the Museum, those that descended from the galleries

by Guy de Maupassant Two years ago this spring I was making a walking tour along the shore of the Mediterranean. Is there anything more