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by Rudyard Kipling We’re goin’ ‘ome, we’re goin’ ‘ome –Our ship is at the shore,An’ you mus’ pack your ‘aversack,For we won’t come back no

The Bet by Anton Chekhov IT WAS a dark autumn night. The old banker was walking up and down his study and remembering how, fifteen

by Leo Tolstoy It was Serozha’s birthday, and he received many different gifts; peg tops, and hobby horses, and pictures. But Serozha’s uncle gave him

by Maxim Gorky The kings of steel, of petroleum, and all the other kings of the United States have always in a high degree excited

The Bird Market by Anton Chekhov THERE is a small square near the monastery of the Holy Birth which is called Trubnoy, or simply Truboy;

by Washington Irving My quiet residence in the country, aloof from fashion, politics, and the money market, leaves me rather at a loss for important

by Oscar Wilde The Birthday of the Infanta was published in 1891 in Oscar Wilde’s second collection of fairy tales for children, A House of

by Aesop The Birds and the Beasts declared war against each other. No compromise was possible, and so they went at it tooth and claw.

by Maxim Gorky The year was the year ’92– the year of leanness–the scene a spot between Sukhum and Otchenchiri, on the river Kodor, a

The Birthmark by Nathaniel Hawthorne In the latter part of the last century there lived a man of science, an eminent proficient in every branch

The Bishop by Anton Chekhov THE evening service was being celebrated on the eve of Palm Sunday in the Old Petrovsky Convent. When they began

by Rudyard Kipling Little Blind Fish, thou art marvellous wise,Little Blind Fish, who put out thy eyes?Open thine ears while I whisper my wish–Bring me

The Black Monk by Anton Chekhov I ANDREY VASSILITCH KOVRIN, who held a master’s degree at the University, had exhausted himself, and had upset his

by James Baldwin In Scotland, in the time of King Robert Bruce, there lived a brave man whose name was Doug-las. His hair and beard

by Edgar Allan Poe The Black Cat was first published in the August 19, 1843, issue of The Saturday Evening Post. The illustration below is

by L. Frank Baum Published in L. Frank Baum’s first children’s book, Mother Goose in Prose (1897), illustrated by Maxfield Parrish. You might also enjoy

by James Baldwin There were once six blind men who stood by the road-side every day, and begged from the people who passed. They had

by Guy de Maupassant How is it that the sunlight gives us such joy? Why does this radiance when it falls on the earth fill

by H.H. Munro (SAKI) The Cricks lived at Toad-Water; and in the same lonely upland spot Fate had pitched the home of the Saunderses, and

by H.H. Munro (SAKI) “You’ve just come back from Adelaide’s funeral, haven’t you?” said Sir Lulworth to his nephew; “I suppose it was very like

by Stephen Crane I THE Palace Hotel at Fort Romper was painted a light blue, a shade that is on the legs of a kind

by Henry van Dyke The parents were abed and sleeping. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and lazily, as if it had time to

by William Dean Howells The boarder who had eloped was a student at the theological seminary, and he had really gone to visit his family,

The Boarded Window by Ambrose Bierce In 1830, only a few miles away from what is now the great city of Cincinnati, lay an immense