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by Henry van Dyke Three men were taking a walk together, as they said, just to while away the time. The first man intended to

by Henry van Dyke “The best rose-bush, after all, is not that which has the fewest thorns, but that which bears the finest roses.” —SOLOMON

by Guy de Maupassant It was a wedding procession that was coming along the road between the tall trees that bounded the farms and cast

by Jack London In the morning calm of Korea, when its peace and tranquillity truly merited its ancient name, “Cho-sen,” there lived a politician by

by Mark Twain “MORAL STATISTICIAN.”–I don’t want any of your statistics; I took your whole batch and lit my pipe with it. I hate your

by Joseph Conrad I There were two white men in charge of the trading station. Kayerts, the chief, was short and fat; Carlier, the assistant,

by Henry van Dyke Along the straight, glistening road, through a dim arcade of drooping trees, a tunnel of faded green and gold, dripping with

by James Baldwin A good many years ago there lived in Italy a little boy whose name was An-to´ni-o Ca-no´va. He lived with his grand-fa-ther,

by W.C. Morrow Mr. Clarke Randolph was stupefied by a discovery which he had just made–his wife had proved unfaithful, and the betrayer was his

by Guy de Maupassant One autumn I went to spend the hunting season with some friends in a chateau in Picardy. My friends were fond

by Edward Payson Roe “Jack, she played with me deliberately, heartlessly. I can never forgive her.” “In that case, Will, I congratulate you. Such a

by Ambrose Bierce Vincent van Gogh “Country Road in Provence by Night” Vincent van Gogh “Country Road in Provence by Night” James Burne Worson was

by O. Henry An Unfinished Christmas Story was first published in O. Henry’s collection Rolling Stones (1919), thirteen years after his beloved Christmas story, The

by Arnold Bennett I James Peake and his wife, and Enoch Lovatt, his wife’s half-sister’s husband, and Randolph Sneyd, the architect, were just finishing the

by Anthony Trollope In the happy days when we were young, no description conveyed to us so complete an idea of mysterious reality as that

by O. Henry We no longer groan and heap ashes upon our heads when the flames of Tophet are mentioned. For, even the preachers have

by Virginia Woolf Published in 1921, An Unwritten Novel was one of eight short stories in her collection, Monday or Tuesday. SUCH AN EXPRESSION of

by Rudyard Kipling Almost any pilot will tell you that his work is much more difficult than you imagine; but the Pilots of the Hugli

Anyuta by Anton Chekhov IN the cheapest room of a big block of furnished apartments Stepan Klotchkov, a medical student in his third year, was

An Upheaval by Anton Chekhov MASHENKA PAVLETSKY, a young girl who had only just finished her studies at a boarding school, returning from a walk

A Of Costello The Proud, Of OOna The Daughter Of Dermottnd Of The Bitter tongue by William Butler Yeats Costello had come up from the

by James Joyce MR. JAMES DUFFY lived in Chapelizod because he wished to live as far as possible from the city of which he was

by William Dean Howells I. We first met Glendenning on the Canadian boat which carries you down the rapids of the St. Lawrence from Kingston

by Arthur Quiller-Couch AN OLD MAID’S GHOST-STORY “Yes,” said Miss Le Petyt, gazing into the deep fireplace and letting her hands and her knitting lie