Showing results by narrator "John Rayburn" in All Categories

The fiction world of today needs a “Saint” more than it ever did. For years now that scene has been dominated by the “anti-heroes"—those grim gray operators in a sunless sub-culture where global issues are worked out with totally unemotional pragmatism, those hapless uninspired puppets manipulated and expended by ruthlessly dedicated little brothers of Big Brother. It made morbidly fascinating narrative, but it never gave anyone a lift until it climaxed in the hyper-gadgeted parodies of 007 extravaganzas.

If it had not rained on a certain May morning, Valancy Stirling’s whole life would have been entirely different. She would have gone, with the rest of her clan, to Aunt Wellington’s engagement picnic and Dr. Trent would have gone to Montreal. But it did rain and you shall hear what happened to her because of it. Valancy wakened early, in the lifeless, hopeless hour just preceding dawn. She had not slept very well.

This the story of the unplanned adoption of an eleven-year-old girl orphan by an elderly brother and sister farm couple: Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert. They had requested a young boy orphan to help with farm chores, so the girl was unwanted at first. However, she was very intelligent, imaginative and quite a chatterbox. She gradually made her way into the unexpected adoption that brought love and respect, creating a warm and wonderful association. This delightful classic takes place in the Canadian province of Prince Edward Island.

The author’s birth name was Alan Alexander Milne, but his pen name used only the initials A. A. Milne. He eventually won worldwide acclaim for his renowned youth-oriented stories about Winnie-the-Pooh. However, he tried something different a few years before that, a story based on parental devotion.

It was a lonely English courtyard where attorneys received traditional apprenticeship … one of the ancient Inns of Court. The bludgeoned body of a well-dressed elderly man was found there at midnight, an apparent murder victim. Investigative newspaper reporter Frank Spargo was one of the first to arrive at the crime scene and he was puzzled about why such a prosperous looking man had been wandering there at that time of night. The only item found on the body was a small paper with a young barrister’s address.

Shore Road has a bunch of auto thefts outside Bayport, home territory of the Hardy Boys, Frank and Joe. They find out that one of their friends, Jack Dodd and his father, have been accused of the thefts. This bothers the lads because they feel certain there has been a big mistake and they intend to do something about it. As a result of their intentions and investigation the Hardy Boys wind up helping in capture of the actual car thieves who had framed and kidnapped their friends. It’s exciting listening as they work hard to aid the Dodds, father and son.

The character of Bertram “Bertie” Wooster told the stories in first person style. He had a valet who stole some of his silk sox and was discharged. The agency sent replacement Reginald “Reggie” Jeeves. He arrived, mixed a hangover cure that was much needed and accepted, and the two were together from then on. Bertie, rich and toil-free, disliked hard work, some bossy women, and most children. He had a somewhat dingbat friend, Bingo Little, who fell in love with every girl he met.

Here is a meeting with George and Marion Kerby, a couple of free-wheeling ghosts, who meet up with respectable banker Cosmo Topper. This was noted by the New York Times, claiming: “Thorne Smith created the modern American ghost story, ghosts with style and wit; ghosts that haunt us still.” Others pointed out, “Smith was a master of urbane wit and sophisticated repartee.” The overall mood has a touch of silliness, but it provides lighthearted reading and listening, a matter of nonsensical escapism. For Topper it meant relief from a nagging wife with ongoing indigestion.

There were signs that H. G. Wells wasn’t quite sure how to end his famous story The War of the Worlds, which featured an invasion from the planet Mars. He certainly knew how to do the story itself and pointed out Martians were highly advanced over humans in their technology. Wells used an unnamed narrator telling the tale in first person with input from his brother. The book was published in 1898, and even with the passing of years, there are no present day traces of life on Mars, a reality that would have undoubtedly disappointed the author.

This is a very unusual book, wherein the majority of the story is contents of an ancient diary found by two friends on a fishing holiday while on the grounds of an old dilapidated house. The moldy manuscript has inscribed tales of strange things seen and heard. There are horrible creatures and huge monsters described as though they were old gods of mythology.

This is a whodunit that neatly fits into the history of detective fiction. It features artist Philip Trent as he unexpectedly becomes an amateur detective. Some of his carefully collected information often proved erroneous. It begins when a wealthy American plutocrat, Bigsbee Manderson, uses his finances in attempt to establish rules controlling society. When Manderson is found murdered on the grounds of his country house in England, Trent is hired as a reporter by a press association to investigate and file reports.

A late-night murder of a diamond merchant’s veteran employee in London’s Hatton Gardens has Scotland Yard calling on Inspector French to investigate. When French gets there he finds not only the victim but missing diamonds and money from an open safe. There are meager clues as the Inspector follows a trail to mainland Europe and back. There are many false clues and several suspects with much of the searching leading to nothing but dead ends. We can listen as French sorts it all out, finding the missing diamonds and nabbing the murderer.

The chief character, Lord Peter Wimsey, goes to the Bellona Club to have a meal with an old friend of his, ninety-year old General Fentiman. In great surprise, he finds the aged man fully dressed by the fire in full rigor mortis. A question arises concerning the time of death and the situation develops into a serious murder investigation. Wimsey sometimes seemed to have a supercilious attitude as a monocled aristocrat and sometimes became a sort of professional detective. His family motto was, “As my whimsy takes me.”

Seven Keys to Baldpate was such an intriguing tale it brought on an effort to build an actual counterpart of Baldpate. The site selected was about five miles south of Estes Park, Colorado, opposite Lily Lake on Highway 7. It turned out to be a fascinating getaway location; vacationers were not only intrigued by the concept, but many actually made extensive contributions of various keys to match the mood. This erased the story’s description of the “Seven Keys”, and the inn’s collection of keys reached an astounding total of 20-30,000 of them.

It would be easy to call it a case of naivete on the part of Richard Hannay, but there was much more to the story. He had just returned to London after living in Rhodesia, so he wasn’t fully versed in the intrigue going on in England. That wasn’t much of a reason for Hannay allowing a man he met to live in his flat. However, that’s what he did, even though Franklin Scudder claimed to be a spy with involvement in an anarchist plot to assassinate the Greek Premier. Hannay got into a major problem when Scudder was found murdered in the apartment.

Humor and overall literary style have changed a lot in the 132 years since this book was published in 1889. However, the information remains informative, primarily because there is a certain amount of truthfulness about it that manages to disregard the passage of time. It takes in some unusual events that either did happen, or could have. It involves three men and a dog that is sometimes smarter than any of them. Between them, they come up with some depth of thought and at least a minor ability to understand human nature.

The idea that the extraordinary narrative which has been called the Joyce-Armstrong Fragment is an elaborate practical joke evolved by some unknown person, cursed by a perverted and sinister sense of humor, has now been abandoned by all who have examined the matter. The most macabre and imaginative of plotters would hesitate before linking his morbid fancies with the unquestioned and tragic facts which reinforce the statement. Though the assertions contained in it are amazing and even monstrous, it is nonetheless forcing itself upon the general intelligence that they are true.

The story you’re about to hear is the second Charlie Chan novel, and it features a parrot named Tony who is witness to a crime. The unusual bird spoke Chinese and had a less-than-perfect use of English grammar but was killed by the criminals as a precaution. Chan himself was a friend of a family selling jewels and agreed to deliver them on his first trip to mainland California. While there he masquerades as a pidgin-speaking cook during his undercover investigation. His profound and original intelligence offers genial humor and witty dialogue.

In truth the mastery of flying was the work of thousands of men—this man a suggestion and that an experiment, until at last only one vigorous intellectual effort was needed to finish the work. But the inexorable injustice of the popular mind has decided that of all these thousands, one man, and that a man who never flew, should be chosen as the discoverer, just as it has chosen to honor Watt as the discoverer of steam and Stephenson of the steam-engine.

Here is a land where a man, to live, must be a man. It is a land of granite and marble, strong stone and gold—and a man’s strength must be as the strength of the primeval hills. It is a land of oaks and cedars and pines—and a man’s mental grace must be as the grace of the untamed trees. It is a land of far-arched and unstained skies, where the wind sweeps free and untainted, and the atmosphere is the atmosphere of those places that remain as God made them—and a man’s soul must be as the unstained skies, the unburdened wind, and the untainted atmosphere.