George Manville Fenn: 365 books

His Most Christian Majesty King Francis the First had a great preference for his Palace of Fontainebleau among the many places of residence from which he could choose, and it is interesting to glance into that magnificent palace on a certain afternoon in the year 151—. In a special apartment, from...

One of the best tales of adventure produced by any living writer, combining the inventiveness of Jules Verne, and the solidity of character and earnestness of spirit which have made the English victorious in so many fields. The action and adventure takes place in the South Pacific, New Guinea. A truly amazing tale.

Septimus Hardon bore his Christian name from no numerical reason, for he was an only child; but his father, Octavius Hardon, Esquire, of Somesham, thought that, like his own, the name had a good bold sound with it—a sonorous classical twang. There was a vibration with it that should impress people...

Mr Burne blew a perfectly triumphal blast with his pocket-handkerchief, took out his snuff-box, put it back, jumped up, and, crossing to where the professor was standing, shook his hand very warmly, and without a word, while Mrs Dunn wiped her eyes upon her very stiff watered silk apron, but found...

The adventures of two boys living on a small off-shore island. One is the son of the local doctor, the other the son of the squire, or owner of the land round about.  Something is witnessed that disturbs the boys and is the cause of hiding the truth, but never escaping it.

My fist went home on Morton’s cheek, and almost simultaneously his flew out and struck me in the ribs. Crack—thud! Morton’s return sounding like an echo of my blow. There was a buzz of excitement. Coats flew off; two of our fellows eagerly pressed forward to act as seconds; my shirt-sleeves...

“What do I mean, sir? Why, I mean as that’s another thing as shows as old England’s wore out, and rustin’ and moulderin’ away.” “Is this Dutch or English, Ben?” said the manly-looking boy, who had just arrived at the age when dark lads get teased about not having properly washed the...

Seven o’clock in the morning, and chee-op—chee-op—chee-op—chirrup—pee-yew—a splendid thrush waking the echoes with his loud notes; the blackbirds down in the copse whistling a soft love-song to their silent mates, waiting in their cup-like nests for the first chip of the blotched eggs;...

“You, Tom Jones, let that pot-lid alone.” It was a big brown-faced woman who said that crossly, and a big rough-looking bugler, in the uniform of the 200th Fusiliers, with belts, buttons and facings looking very clean and bright, but the scarlet cloth ragged and stained from the rain and mud,...

If that hat had occupied its proper place it would have been perched upon a stake to scare the sparrows away from the young peas, but the wretched weather-beaten structure was upon the old man’s head, matching well with his coat, as he busied himself that pleasant morning dibbling in broccoli-plants...

The roar of the big road sounded plainly, but it was far enough off for it to be subdued into a mellow hum, suggestive to the country sufferer lying in the narrow bed with its clean linen and neat blue checked hangings by the open window, of bees swarming, and a threshing machine at work in the farm...