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by James Joyce Araby was published in James Joyce’s short story collection, Dubliners in 1914. It is widely considered to be his finest short story,

by Andy Adams Along in the 80’s there occurred a question of possession in regard to a brand of horses, numbering nearly two hundred head.

by Ralph Henry Barbour Roy Milford pulled the brim of his faded sombrero further over his blue eyes and urged Scamp into a trot, though

by Jack London Of the fish patrolmen under whom we served at various times, Charley Le Grant and I were agreed, I think, that Neil

by W. W. Jacobs The hands on the wharf had been working all Saturday night and well into the Sunday morning to finish the _Foam_,

by P. G. Wodehouse Archibald Mealing was one of those golfers in whom desire outruns performance. Nobody could have been more willing than Archibald. He

by Aesop A Raven, which you know is black as coal, was envious of the Swan, because her feathers were as white as the purest

by Lucy Maud Montgomery The dance at Byron Lyall’s was in full swing. Toff Leclerc, the best fiddler in three counties, was enthroned on the

by Guy de Maupassant How many recollections of youth come to me in the soft sunlight of early spring! It was an age when all

by Jack London I wash my hands of him at the start. I cannot father his tales, nor will I be responsible for them. I

by Kate Chopin Some people are born with a vital and responsive energy. It not only enables them to keep abreast of the times; it

by H. P. Lovecraft The Privilege of Reminiscence, however rambling or tiresome, is one generally allow’d to the very aged; indeed, ’tis frequently by means

by Henry van Dyke This is the story of a dream that came to me some five-and-twenty years ago. It is as vivid in memory

by Franz Kafka In this short story masterpiece, Kafka positions an ape in front of a distinguished Viennese audience. The ape embarks on an exposition

by Mark Twain “Now that corpse [said the undertaker, patting the folded hands of the deceased approvingly] was a brick–every way you took him he

A Resumed Identity by Ambrose Bierce I The Review As A Form Of Welcome One summer night a man stood on a low hill overlooking

A Respectable Woman by Kate Chopin Mrs. Baroda was a little provoked to learn that her husband expected his friend, Gouvernail, up to spend a

by Elia W. Peattie AFTER being dead twenty years, he walked out into the sunshine. It was as if the bones of a bleached skeleton

by O. Henry A guard came to the prison shoe-shop, where Jimmy Valentine was assiduously stitching uppers, and escorted him to the front office. There

Ariadne by Anton Chekhov ON the deck of a steamer sailing from Odessa to Sevastopol, a rather good-looking gentleman, with a little round beard, came

by Mary Roberts Rinehart I There are certain people who will never understand this story, people who live their lives by rule of thumb. Little

by Anthony Trollope Circumstances took me to the Holy Land without a companion, and compelled me to visit Bethany, the Mount of Olives, and the

A Rill from the Town-Pump by Nathaniel Hawthorne (SCENE, the corner of two principal streets, [Essex and Washington Streets, Salem] the TOWN-PUMP talking through its

by William Dean Howells It was long past the twilight hour, which has been already mentioned as so oppressive in suburban places, and it was