Read great stories, support your favorite authors, publish your fiction.
163 stories from 11 authors
Around the major’s eyes were two white circles where his snow-glasses had protected his face from the sun on the snow.
I don’t think much of Stephen Mackaye any more, though I used to swear by him.
“To cook by your fire and to sleep under your roof for the night,” I had announced on entering old Ebbits’s cabin; and he had looked at me blear-eyed and vacuous, while Zilla had favored me with a sour face and a contemptuous grunt.
Every Sunday, as soon as they were free, the little soldiers would go for a walk.
“Upon my word,” said Colonel Laporte, “although I am old and gouty, my legs as stiff as two pieces of wood, yet if a pretty woman were to tell me to go through the eye of a needle, I believe I should take a jump at it, like a clown through a hoop.