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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



Fiction genre suitable for people of all ages. Everyone will find something interesting for themselves. Our electronic library is always at your service. Reading online free books without registration. Nowadays ebooks are convenient and efficient. After all, don’t forget: literature exists and develops largely thanks to readers.
The genre of fiction is interesting to read not only by the process of cognition and the desire to empathize with the fate of the hero, this genre is interesting for the ability to rethink one's own life. Of course the reader may accept the author's point of view or disagree with them, but the reader should understand that the author has done a great job and deserves respect. Take a closer look at genre fiction in all its manifestations in our elibrary.



Read books online » Fiction » Tam O' The Scoots by Edgar Wallace (bill gates books to read .TXT) 📖

Book online «Tam O' The Scoots by Edgar Wallace (bill gates books to read .TXT) 📖». Author Edgar Wallace



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up to her feet and they lifted the stretcher and slid it gently into the grooved guides on the floor of the ambulance.

"Now--driver," said the doctor with a little smile.

She went to her place and mounted to the seat. The hands that touched the polished wheel trembled and she slipped back to the ground again, her face white.

"I can't--I can't drive him," she said and burst into tears upon Blackie's shoulder.

So Blackie drove the car himself and left his general to wipe Vera's eyes.

A month later Captain Blackie went to Havre to see Tam en route for home.

"You're a wonderful fellow, Tam--you ought to be dead really instead of being bound for England."

"Scotland," corrected Tam.

"But don't you think you're lucky?"

"Weel," said Tam, "I did until the morn, then I struck a verra bad patch."

"Bad luck," said the innocent and surprised Blackie, "I am sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"The big feller, the principal doctor," said Tam, "said I might smoke a wee seegair, and, believe me, Captain Blackie, sir-r, when I looked in ma pooch there wasna a single--"

Blackie took his cigar-case from his pocket, opened and extended it.

"Tam," he said, "you're nearly well."

THE END


Imprint

Publication Date: 08-07-2009

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To QUENTIN ROOSEVELT AND ALL AIRMEN, FRIEND AND FOE ALIKE, WHO HAVE FALLEN IN CLEAN FIGHTING The world was a puddle of gloom and of shadowy things, He sped till the red and the gold of invisible day Was burnish and flames to the undermost spread of his wings, So he outlighted the stars as he poised in the grey. Nearer was he to the knowledge and splendour of God, Mysteries sealed from the ken of the ancient and wise-- Beauties forbidden to those who are one with the clod-- All that there was of the Truth was revealed to his eyes. Flickers of fire from the void and the whistle of death, Clouds that snapped blackly beneath him, above and beside, Watch him, serene and uncaring--holding your breath, Fearing his peril and all that may come of his pride. Now he was swooped to the world like a bird to his nest, Now is the drone of his coming the roaring of hell, Now with a splutter and crash are the engines at rest-- All's well! E. W.

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