CHAPTER I. A NOVEL BATTLE. "Pull him along, Carlos! Pull him along!" shouted a young gentleman about sixteen years of age, as he danced about on the back porch of his uncle's house, in a state of great excitement; "why don't you pull him along?" "He'll come, after awhile," replied the person addressed; "but he is very wild and obstinate." The boy on the porch was almost beside himself—so much so, in fact, that he found it utterly... more...

Or, Solitude in the Wilderness. The Outskirter. To some minds solitude is depressing, to others it is congenial. It was the former to our friend John Robinson; yet he had a large share of it in his chequered life. John—more familiarly known as Jack—was as romantic as his name was the reverse. To look at him you would have supposed that he was the most ordinary of common-place men, but if you had known him, as we did, you would have... more...

CHAPTER I. THE MAN IN THE MOON. Children, down on the planet which you call Earth, allow me to introduce myself to you! I am the Man in the Moon. I have no doubt that you know a good deal about me, in an indirect way, and that your nurses have told you all sorts of nonsense about my inquiring the way to Norwich—as if I didn't know the way to Norwich! and various things equally sensible. But now I am going to tell you a little... more...

THE FIVE LITTLE FRIENDSAT SCHOOL Bob and Betty, Paul and Peggy and little Dot are five little friends. They go to the same school. Many other children go to the school too, but these five little friends are the ones this story is about. Bob is the tall boy in the brown suit. Betty is the girl in the checked dress. Paul is the boy with the white blouse. Peggy is the girl with curls. Little Dot is the tiny child with bobbed hair. Bob and Betty,... more...

Wild Times. “Do I think it would be wise to put on a life-belt, Mr Lane?” “Yes.” The words were shouted into the ear of one of the speakers, and yelled back as, like others about the vessel, they clung to the side, now to be raised high, now to be plunged down again, as the Planet, with only a rag or two of storm canvas set, rode over a huge wave and seemed as if turned into some new and ponderous kind of diving... more...

One day, many years ago, a brig cast off from her moorings, and sailed from a British port for the Polar Seas. That brig never came back. Many a hearty cheer was given, many a kind wish was uttered, many a handkerchief was waved, and many a tearful eye gazed that day as the vessel left Old England, and steered her course into the unknown regions of the far north. But no cheer ever greeted her return; no bright eyes ever watched her... more...

INTRODUCTION The group of stories brought together in this volume differ from legends because they have, with one exception, no core of fact at the centre, from myths because they make no attempt to personify or explain the forces or processes of nature, from fairy stories because they do not often bring on to the stage actors of a different nature from ours. They give full play to the fancy as in "A Child's Dream of a Star," "The King of the... more...

CHAPTER I ROGER'S IDEA For the fortieth time that afternoon, it seemed to Ethel Brown Morton and her cousin, Ethel Blue, they untangled the hopelessly mixed garlands of the maypole and started the weavers once more to lacing and interlacing them properly. "Under, over; under, over," they directed, each girl escorting a small child in and out among the gay bands of pink and white which streamed from the top of the pole. May Day in New Jersey... more...

CHAPTER I THE END OF AN INFAIR Dorothy sat up in bed and looked about her. For a moment she did not realize where she was nor how she came to be in such a strange and charming room. Then from somewhere in the distance sounded a merry, musical voice, singing: “Old Noah of old he built an ark—One more river to cross!He built it out of hickory bark—One more riv——” The refrain was never finished. Dorothy was at... more...

CHAPTER I OUT OF A HAYRICK "Oh, my!" exclaimed one girl. "Oh, mine!" amended another. "Oh, ours!" called out a third. Then there was one awful bump, and the chorus was understood. The old-style hay wagon, which was like a big crib, wobbled from side to side. The young ladies followed its questionable example, and some of them "sort of" lapped-over on the others. "Dorothy Dale!" gasped one particularly sensitive member of the party, "we... more...