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The City Of Dreadful Night The City Of Dreadful Night

The City Of Dreadful Night
"During the recent warmed-over spell," said my friend Carney, driver of express wagon No. 8,606, "a good many opportunities was had of observing human nature through peekaboo waists. "The Park Commissioner and the Commissioner of Polis and the Forestry Commission gets together and agrees to let the people sleep in the parks until the Weather Bureau gets the thermometer down again to a living basis. So they draws up open-air resolutions and has them O.K.'d by the Secretary of Agriculture, Mr. Comstock and the Village Improvement Mosquito Exterminating Society of South Orange, N. J. "When the proclamation was made opening up... Short Stories - Post by : Sandy_Aptecker - Date : November 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3260

The World And The Door The World And The Door

The World And The Door
A favourite dodge to get your story read by the public is to assert that it is true, and then add that Truth is stranger than Fiction. I do not know if the yarn I am anxious for you to read is true; but the Spanish purser of the fruit steamer _El Carrero_ swore to me by the shrine of Santa Guadalupe that he had the facts from the U. S. vice-consul at La Paz--a person who could not possibly have been cognizant of half of them. As for the adage quoted above, I take pleasure in puncturing it by affirming... Short Stories - Post by : nas_boleh - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3608

The Theory And The Hound The Theory And The Hound

The Theory And The Hound
Not many days ago my old friend from the tropics, J. P. Bridger, United States consul on the island of Ratona, was in the city. We had wassail and jubilee and saw the Flatiron building, and missed seeing the Bronxless menagerie by about a couple of nights. And then, at the ebb tide, we were walking up a street that parallels and parodies Broadway. A woman with a comely and mundane countenance passed us, holding in leash a wheezing, vicious, waddling, brute of a yellow pug. The dog entangled himself with Bridger's legs and mumbled his ankles in a snarling, peevish,... Short Stories - Post by : professional-sh - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 2569

The Hypotheses Of Failure The Hypotheses Of Failure

The Hypotheses Of Failure
Lawyer Gooch bestowed his undivided attention upon the engrossing arts of his profession. But one flight of fancy did he allow his mind to entertain. He was fond of likening his suite of office rooms to the bottom of a ship. The rooms were three in number, with a door opening from one to another. These doors could also be closed. "Ships," Lawyer Gooch would say, "are constructed for safety, with separate, water-tight compartments in their bottoms. If one compartment springs a leak it fills with water; but the good ship goes on unhurt. Were it not for the separating bulkheads... Short Stories - Post by : E._Olsen - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 2600

Calloway's Code Calloway's Code

Calloway's Code
The New York _Enterprise_ sent H. B. Calloway as special correspondent to the Russo-Japanese-Portsmouth war. For two months Calloway hung about Yokohama and Tokio, shaking dice with the other correspondents for drinks of 'rickshaws--oh, no, that's something to ride in; anyhow, he wasn't earning the salary that his paper was paying him. But that was not Calloway's fault. The little brown men who held the strings of Fate between their fingers were not ready for the readers of the _Enterprise_ to season their breakfast bacon and eggs with the battles of the descendants of the gods. But soon the column of... Short Stories - Post by : tramsguy - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 2640

A Matter Of Mean Elevation A Matter Of Mean Elevation

A Matter Of Mean Elevation
One winter the Alcazar Opera Company of New Orleans made a speculative trip along the Mexican, Central American and South American coasts. The venture proved a most successful one. The music-loving, impressionable Spanish-Americans deluged the company with dollars and "vivas." The manager waxed plump and amiable. But for the prohibitive climate he would have put forth the distinctive flower of his prosperity--the overcoat of fur, braided, frogged and opulent. Almost was he persuaded to raise the salaries of his company. But with a mighty effort he conquered the impulse toward such an unprofitable effervescence of joy. At Macuto, on the coast... Short Stories - Post by : mcsepro - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 1215

'girl' "girl"

'girl'
In gilt letters on the ground glass of the door of room No. 962 were the words: "Robbins & Hartley, Brokers." The clerks had gone. It was past five, and with the solid tramp of a drove of prize Percherons, scrub-women were invading the cloud-capped twenty-story office building. A puff of red-hot air flavoured with lemon peelings, soft-coal smoke and train oil came in through the half-open windows. Robbins, fifty, something of an overweight beau, and addicted to first nights and hotel palm-rooms, pretended to be envious of his partner's commuter's joys. "Going to be something doing in the humidity line... Short Stories - Post by : jacki - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 2307

Sociology In Serge And Straw Sociology In Serge And Straw

Sociology In Serge And Straw
The season of irresponsibility is at hand. Come, let us twine round our brows wreaths of poison ivy (that is for idiocy), and wander hand in hand with sociology in the summer fields. Likely as not the world is flat. The wise men have tried to prove that it is round, with indifferent success. They pointed out to us a ship going to sea, and bade us observe that, at length, the convexity of the earth hid from our view all but the vessel's topmast. But we picked up a telescope and looked, and saw the decks and hull again. Then... Short Stories - Post by : curious_publish - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3505

The Ransom Of Red Chief The Ransom Of Red Chief

The Ransom Of Red Chief
It looked like a good thing: but wait till I tell you. We were down South, in Alabama--Bill Driscoll and myself--when this kidnapping idea struck us. It was, as Bill afterward expressed it, "during a moment of temporary mental apparition"; but we didn't find that out till later. There was a town down there, as flat as a flannel-cake, and called Summit, of course. It contained inhabitants of as undeleterious and self-satisfied a class of peasantry as ever clustered around a Maypole. Bill and me had a joint capital of about six hundred dollars, and we needed just two thousand dollars... Short Stories - Post by : ebizwhiz - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3789

The Marry Month Of May The Marry Month Of May

The Marry Month Of May
Prithee, smite the poet in the eye when he would sing to you praises of the month of May. It is a month presided over by the spirits of mischief and madness. Pixies and flibbertigibbets haunt the budding woods: Puck and his train of midgets are busy in town and country. In May nature holds up at us a chiding finger, bidding us remember that we are not gods, but overconceited members of her own great family. She reminds us that we are brothers to the chowder-doomed clam and the donkey; lineal scions of the pansy and the chimpanzee, and but... Short Stories - Post by : coolhiptrendy - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3593

A Technical Error A Technical Error

A Technical Error
I never cared especially for feuds, believing them to be even more overrated products of our country than grapefruit, scrapple, or honeymoons. Nevertheless, if I may be allowed, I will tell you of an Indian Territory feud of which I was press-agent, camp-follower, and inaccessory during the fact. I was on a visit to Sam Durkee's ranch I had a great time falling off unmanicured ponies and waving my bare hand at the lower jaws of wolves about two miles away. Sam was a hardened person of about twenty-five, with a reputation for going home in the dark with perfect... Short Stories - Post by : kirtlc - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3464

Suite Homes And Their Romance Suite Homes And Their Romance

Suite Homes And Their Romance
Few young couples in the Big-City-of-Bluff began their married existence with greater promise of happiness than did Mr. and Mrs. Claude Turpin. They felt no especial animosity toward each other; they were comfortably established in a handsome apartment house that had a name and accommodations like those of a sleeping-car; they were living as expensively as the couple on the next floor above who had twice their income; and their marriage had occurred on a wager, a ferry-boat and first acquaintance, thus securing a sensational newspaper notice with their names attached to pictures of the Queen of Roumania and M. Santos-Dumont.... Short Stories - Post by : clickit - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 1182

The Whirligig Of Life The Whirligig Of Life

The Whirligig Of Life
Justice-of-the-Peace Benaja Widdup sat in the door of his office smoking his elder-stem pipe. Half-way to the zenith the Cumberland range rose blue-gray in the afternoon haze. A speckled hen swaggered down the main street of the "settlement," cackling foolishly. Up the road came a sound of creaking axles, and then a slow cloud of dust, and then a bull-cart bearing Ransie Bilbro and his wife. The cart stopped at the Justice's door, and the two climbed down. Ransie was a narrow six feet of sallow brown skin and yellow hair. The imperturbability of the mountains hung upon him like a... Short Stories - Post by : mlfrenzy - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 1320

A Sacrifice Hit A Sacrifice Hit

A Sacrifice Hit
The editor of the _Hearthstone Magazine_ has his own ideas about the selection of manuscript for his publication. His theory is no secret; in fact, he will expound it to you willingly sitting at his mahogany desk, smiling benignantly and tapping his knee gently with his gold-rimmed eye-glasses. "The _Hearthstone_," he will say, "does not employ a staff of readers. We obtain opinions of the manuscripts submitted to us directly from types of the various classes of our readers." That is the editor's theory; and this is the way he carries it out: When a batch of MSS. is received the... Short Stories - Post by : Bill4444 - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 1549

The Roads We Take The Roads We Take

The Roads We Take
Twenty miles west of Tucson, the "Sunset Express" stopped at a tank to take on water. Besides the aqueous addition the engine of that famous flyer acquired some other things that were not good for it. While the fireman was lowering the feeding hose, Bob Tidball, "Shark" Dodson and a quarter-bred Creek Indian called John Big Dog climbed on the engine and showed the engineer three round orifices in pieces of ordnance that they carried. These orifices so impressed the engineer with their possibilities that he raised both hands in a gesture such as accompanies the ejaculation "Do tell!" At the... Short Stories - Post by : karinm - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 2856

A Blackjack Bargainer A Blackjack Bargainer

A Blackjack Bargainer
The most disreputable thing in Yancey Goree's law office was Goree himself, sprawled in his creaky old arm-chair. The rickety little office, built of red brick, was set flush with the street--the main street of the town of Bethel. Bethel rested upon the foot-hills of the Blue Ridge. Above it the mountains were piled to the sky. Far below it the turbid Catawba gleamed yellow along its disconsolate valley. The June day was at its sultriest hour. Bethel dozed in the tepid shade. Trade was not. It was so still that Goree, reclining in his chair, distinctly heard the clicking of... Short Stories - Post by : isalihu2001 - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3514

The Song And The Sergeant The Song And The Sergeant

The Song And The Sergeant
Half a dozen people supping at a table in one of the upper-Broadway all-night restaurants were making too much noise. Three times the manager walked past them with a politely warning glance; but their argument had waxed too warm to be quelled by a manager's gaze. It was midnight, and the restaurant was filled with patrons from the theatres of that district. Some among the dispersed audiences must have recognized among the quarrelsome sextet the faces of the players belonging to the Carroll Comedy Company. Four of the six made up the company. Another was the author of the comedietta, "A... Short Stories - Post by : groundbreak - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3281

One Dollar's Worth One Dollar's Worth

One Dollar's Worth
The judge of the United States court of the district lying along the Rio Grande border found the following letter one morning in his mail: JUDGE: When you sent me up for four years you made a talk. Among other hard things, you called me a rattlesnake. Maybe I am one--anyhow, you hear me rattling now. One year after I got to the pen, my daughter died of-- well, they said it was poverty and the disgrace together. You've got a daughter, Judge, and I'm... Short Stories - Post by : radicalman - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 3738

A Newspaper Story A Newspaper Story

A Newspaper Story
At 8 A. M. it lay on Giuseppi's news-stand, still damp from the presses. Giuseppi, with the cunning of his ilk, philandered on the opposite corner, leaving his patrons to help themselves, no doubt on a theory related to the hypothesis of the watched pot. This particular newspaper was, according to its custom and design, an educator, a guide, a monitor, a champion and a household counsellor and _vade mecum_. From its many excellencies might be selected three editorials. One was in simple and chaste but illuminating language directed to parents and teachers, deprecating corporal punishment for children. Another was an... Short Stories - Post by : Alvin - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 1155

Tommy's Burglar Tommy's Burglar

Tommy's Burglar
At ten o'clock P. M. Felicia, the maid, left by the basement door with the policeman to get a raspberry phosphate around the corner. She detested the policeman and objected earnestly to the arrangement. She pointed out, not unreasonably, that she might have been allowed to fall asleep over one of St. George Rathbone's novels on the third floor, but she was overruled. Raspberries and cops were not created for nothing. The burglar got into the house without much difficulty; because we must have action and not too much description in a 2,000-word story. In the dining room he opened the... Short Stories - Post by : shark - Date : February 2011 - Author : O Henry - Read : 1383