John Griffith “Jack” London, January 12, 1876 – November 22, 1916, was an American author, journalist, and social activist. He was a pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction and was one of the first fiction writers to obtain worldwide celebrity and a large fortune from his fiction alone.

On the Makaloa Mat

On the Makaloa Mat - Unlike the women of most warm races, those of Hawaii age well and nobly. With no pretence of make-up or cunning concealment of time's inroads, the woman who sat under the hau tree might have been permitted as much as fifty years by a judge competent anywhere over the world save in Hawaii.

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South of the Slot

Old San Francisco, which is the San Francisco of only the other day, the day before the Earthquake, was divided midway by the Slot. The Slot was an iron crack that ran along the center of Market street, and from the Slot arose the burr of the ceaseless, endless cable that was hitched at will to the cars it dragged up and down.

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Four Horses and a Sailor

Four Horses and a Sailor - "Huh! Drive four horses! I wouldn't sit behind you—not for a thousand dollars—over them mountain roads." So said Henry, and he ought to have known, for he drives four horses himself.

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The League of the Old Man

The League of the Old Man - At the Barracks a man was being tried for his life. He was an old man, a native from the Whitefish River, which empties into the Yukon below Lake Le Barge. All Dawson was wrought up over the affair, and likewise the Yukon-dwellers for a thousand miles up and down.

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Old Baldy

Old Baldy - “I declare! so the deacon's goin' to try his hand on Old Baldy, eh?” Jim Wheeler chuckled gleefully at the news, and rubbed his hands. “Wall, mebbe somethin' 'll happen,” he went on, “an mebbe it won't, but I sha'n't be a mite s'prised if Old Baldy comes out a-top.”

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A Thousand Deaths

A Thousand Deaths - I had been in the water about an hour, and cold, exhausted, with a terrible cramp in my right calf, it seemed as though my hour had come. Fruitlessly struggling against the strong ebb tide, I had beheld the maddening procession of the water-front lights slip by,

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"Talkin' of bear—" The Klondike King paused meditatively, and the group on the hotel porch hitched their chairs up closer. "Talkin' of bear," he went on, "now up in the Northern Country there are various kinds.

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The Law of Life

The Law of Life - Old Koskoosh listened greedily. Though his sight had long since faded, his hearing was still acute, and the slightest sound penetrated to the glimmering intelligence which yet abode behind the withered forehead, but which no longer gazed forth upon the things of the world. Ah! that was Sit-cum-to-ha,

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