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Posted by KeepThinking on August 16, 2019

The Egg

Sherwood Anderson

My father was, I am sure, intended by nature to be a cheerful, kindly man. Until he was thirty-four years old he worked as a farm-hand for a man named Thomas Butterworth whose place lay near the to...

Posted by KeepThinking on April 27, 2019

The Cop and the Anthem

O. Henry

On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily. When wild geese honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his ben...

Posted by KeepThinking on March 28, 2019

The 1,000,000 Bank Note

Mark Twain

When I was twenty-seven years old, I was a mining-broker’s clerk in San Francisco, and an expert in all the details of stock traffic. I was alone in the world, and had nothing to depend upon but my...

Posted by KeepThinking on March 1, 2019

To Build a Fire

Jack London

Day had broken cold and grey, exceedingly cold and grey, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth- bank, where a dim and little-travelled trail led eastward th...

Posted by KeepThinking on February 19, 2019

The Necklace

Guy de Maupassant (translated by Jonathan Sturges)

She was one of those pretty and charming girls who are sometimes, as if by a mistake of destiny, born in a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of being known, understood, ...

Posted by KeepThinking on February 19, 2019

Federigo's Falcon

Giovanni Boccaccio (translated by Mark Musa & Peter Bondanella)

There was once in Florence a young man named Federigo, the son of Messer Filippo Alberighi, renowned above all other men in Tuscany for his prowess in arms and for his courtliness. As often happens...

Posted by KeepThinking on January 18, 2019

A Clean, Well-Lighted Place

Ernest Hemingway

It was very late and everyone had left the café except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty, but at night th...

Posted by KeepThinking on January 5, 2019

The First Christmas of New England

Harriet Beecher Stowe

CHAPTER I The shores of the Atlantic coast of America may well be a terror to navigators. They present an inexorable wall, against which forbidding and angry waves incessantly dash, and around whi...

Posted by KeepThinking on December 25, 2018

The Little Match Girl

Hans Christian Andersen

Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening–the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and ...

Posted by KeepThinking on December 18, 2018

The Three-Day Blow

Ernest Hemingway

The rain stopped as Nick turned into the road that went up through the orchard. The fruit had been picked and the fall wind blew through the bare trees. Nick stopped and picked up a Wagner apple fr...

Posted by KeepThinking on December 7, 2018

The Garden Party

Katherine Mansfie

And after all the weather was ideal. They could not have had a more perfect day for a garden-party if they had ordered it. Windless, warm, the sky without a cloud. Only the blue was veiled with a h...

Posted by KeepThinking on December 7, 2018

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