"Recalled to Life" from Grant Allen. Canadian science writer and novelist (1848-1899).

"Philistia" from Grant Allen. Canadian science writer and novelist (1848-1899).

"Strange Stories" from Grant Allen. Canadian science writer and novelist (1848-1899).

"The Evolutionist at Large" from Grant Allen. Canadian science writer and novelist (1848-1899).

Excerpt from The British Barbarians: A Hill-Top Novel
Which every reader of this book is requested to read before beginning the story.
This is a Hill-top Novel. I dedicate it to all who have heart enough, brain enough, and soul enough to understand it.
What do I mean by a Hill-top Novel? Well, of late we have been flooded with stories of evil tendencies: a Hill-top Novel is one which raises a protest in favour of purity.
Why have not novelists raised the protest earlier? For this reason.
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" ...]bound behind her back-Oh, look out, Miss Ellis " He was only just in time to utter the warning words. He was only just in time to put one hand on each side of her slender waist, and hold her tight so, when the big wave which he saw coming struck full tilt against the vessel's flank, and broke in one white drenching sheet of foam against her stern and quarter-deck. The suddenness of the assault took Felix's breath away. For the first few seconds he was only aware that a ...]."

This was the top-prize-winning novel from 20,000 entries in one of the richest literary awards ever offered in Britain. Its convoluted and colorful plot turns on questions of heredity and atavism: the ancestry of the Waring twin brothers and of Elma Clifford. Elma comes on her mother's side from a line of gypsy snake dancers, and she displays a periodic urge to dance wildly with a feather boa in her bedroom. A murderous judge, multiple mistaken identities and scenes of tribal life in South Africa decorate this extraordinary novel, which is certainly a testament to Grant Allen's versatility...

Excerpt from Wednesday the Tenth: A Tale of the South Pacific
On the eighteenth day out from Sydney, we were cruising under the lee of Erromanga - of course you know Erromanga, an isolated island between the New Hebrides and the Loyalty group - when suddenly our dusky Polynesian boy, Nassaline, who was at the masthead on the lookout, gave a surprised cry of "Boat ahoy " and pointed with his skinny black finger to a dark dot away southward on the horizon, in the direction of Fiji.
I strained my eyes and saw - well, a barrel or something.
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