Frank Frankfort Moore: 21 books

No one who has not been bankrupt at least twice could afford to be so careful about his dress as Mr. Richmond is," said Josephine. "He admits a solitary bankruptcy," said Amber. "Bankruptcy is the official recognition of genius." "It certainly is the shortest way to distinction,"...

"This Other World is indeed not so far distant from our own that is ruled by the sunne and moon. Therein the Prince of the Power of the Air hath his dominion, whose servants are the Witch and the Warlock,... the Night hagge,... and those that some, for want of a better name, term Ghosts, Ghouls...

It was an interesting scene, beyond doubt," said Mr. Westwood, the senior partner in the Bracken-shire Bank of Westwood, Westwood, Barwell, & Westwood. "Yes, I felt more than once greatly interested in the course of the day." "Greatly interested? Greatly interested?" said...

The old church ways be good enough for me," said Miller Pendelly as he placed on the table a capacious jug of cider, laying a friendly left hand on the shoulder of Jake Pullsford, the carrier, as he bent across the side of the settee with the high back. "I ne'er could see aught that was...

No one who has not been bankrupt at least twice could afford to be so careful about his dress as Mr. Richmond is,” said Josephine. “He admits a solitary bankruptcy,” said Amber. “Bankruptcy is the official recognition of genius.” “It certainly is the shortest way to distinction,” said...

The old church ways be good enough for me,” said Miller Pendelly as he placed on the table a capacious jug of cider, laying a friendly left hand on the shoulder of Jake Pullsford, the carrier, as he bent across the side of the settee with the high back. “I ne'er could see aught that was helpful...

ONE MORNING A FEW MONTHS AGO A foreigner under the influence of an aeroplane descended somewhat hurriedly in a broad and—as he ascertained—a soft meadow in Nethershire; and while he was picking up his matches preparatory to lighting his cigarette—he has always a cigarette in his waistcoat pocket,...

MY son,” said The Macnamara with an air of grandeur, “my son, you've forgotten what's due”—he pronounced it “jew”—“to yourself, what's due to your father, what's due to your forefathers that bled,” and The Macnamara waved his hand gracefully; then, taking advantage of its proximity...

Dorothy frowns slightly, but slightingly, at the title; but when challenged to put her frown into words she has nothing worse to say about it than that it has a certain catchpenny click—the world is talking about The Peace and she has an impression that to introduce the word even without the very...

The author chanced to possess private papers connected to some of the most fascinating British personages of the last half of the eighteenth century. We are the richer for his memorable 1908 portraits of Dr. Samuel Johnson, James Boswell, Oliver Goldsmith, Fanny Burney, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and many others.

Nelly—Nelly—Nell! Now, where's the wench?” cried Mrs. Gwyn, before she had more than passed the threshold of her daughter's house in St. James's Park—the house with the terrace garden, where, as the sedate Evelyn records, the charming Nelly had stood exchanging some very lively phrases with...

“The Macnamaras and the Casheldergs were the deadliest of enemies, and hardly a day passed for years—maybe centuries—without some one of the clan getting the better of the other. Maybe that was how the surplus population was kept down in these parts. Anyhow there was no talk, so far as I’ve...

SOME years ago there was an auction of wine at a country-house in Scotland, the late owner of which had taken pains to gain a reputation for judgment in the matter of wine-selecting. He had all his life been nearly as intemperate as a temperance orator in his denunciation of whisky as a drink, hoping...

Sir,” said Dr. Johnson, “we have eaten an excellent dinner, we are a company of intelligent men—although I allow that we should have difficulty in proving that we are so if it became known that we sat down with a Scotchman—and now pray do not mar the self-satisfaction which intelligent men...