Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
James Champernowne Tundering-West, or, as for the time being he preferred to be called, Jim Easton, sat himself down on the camp-bedstead in the middle of the one habitable room of a derelict rest-house, built on the edge of the desert some distance behind the houses of the native town of K?m-es-Sultan. All day long he had been f...
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
Dr. David Lessing found Jack Dorffman and the boy waiting in his office when he arrived at the Hoffman Center that morning. Dorffman looked as though he'd been running all night. There were dark pouches under his eyes; his heavy unshaven face seemed to sag at every crease. Lessing glanced sharply at his Field Director and sank down beh...
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
The writings of Shakespeare have been justly termed “the richest, the purest, the fairest, that genius uninspired ever penned.”
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
Jack Hanshaw was madder than a wet hen and his roommate, Ken Adaman, was enjoying his misfortune hugely. "Not a blame thing!" snarled Jack, fiddling with the knobs of the television set. "Not even static lines. First they give me a set without a plug-in cord, and now this one's got a no-good picture tube."
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
Irish and Scotch Gaelic folk-stories are, as a living form of literature, by this time pretty nearly a thing of the past. They have been trampled in the common ruin under the feet of the Zeitgeist, happily not before a large harvest has been reaped in Scotland, but, unfortunately, before anything worth mentioning has been done in...
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
A violent storm from the north-west was raging along the northern coast of Java. The wind howled and roared as though a legion of fiends were holding Sabbath in the black mass of clouds which were driving along.
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
In the North Woods where Buster was born, a wide river tinkles merrily over stones that are so white you’d mistake them for snowballs, if you were not careful, and begin pelting each other with them. The birches hanging over the water look like white sticks of peppermint candy, except in the spring of the year when they blossom out in ...
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
There are certain beings who bear the stamp of the divine seal and are preordained to receive the highest favours within the gift of glory; they are fated to pass through life like those brilliant meteors which are seen to flash across the heavens and disappear in the same instant. Bastien-Lepage was one of these meteors. But while the...
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
“He mustn’t have so much corn, Joseph,” said Mr Tiddson, parish doctor of Croppley Magna, addressing a grinning boy of sixteen, who, with his smock-frock rolled up and twisted round his waist, was holding the bridle of a very thin, dejected-looking pony, whose mane and tail seemed to have gone to the cushion-maker’s, leaving in their p...
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Cate： Short Stories Author：novel
There is much of life passed on the balcony in a country where the summer unrolls in six moon-lengths, and where the nights have to come with a double endowment of vastness and splendor to compensate for the tedious, sun-parched days.
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