Showing: 11-20 results of 1892

CHAPTER I HIS HIGHNESS   His Highness came by the nickname honestly enough and yet those who heard it for the first time had difficulty in repressing a smile at the incongruity of the title. In fact perhaps no term could have been found that would have been less appropriate. For Walter King possessed neither dignity of rank nor of stature. On the contrary he was a short, snub-nosed boy of fifteen, the epitome of good humor and democracy.... more...

WILL THE SHIP WORK? "Hand me that wrench, Mark," called Professor Amos Henderson to a boy who stood near some complicated machinery over which the old man was working. The lad passed the tool over. "Do you think the ship will work, Professor?" he asked. "I hope so, Mark, I hope so," muttered the scientist as he tightened some bolts on what was perhaps the strangest combination of apparatus that had ever been put together. "There is no reason... more...

CHAPTER I I GO ON AN ERRAND A fierce gust of wind and rain struck the windows, and Jessie, on her way to the breakfast table, dish in hand, paused to listen. “Raining again!” she exclaimed, setting the dish down emphatically. “It seems to me that it has rained every day this spring. When it hasn’t poured here in the valley, it has more than made up for it in the mountains.” “You are more than half... more...

How Phil Stukely and Dick Chichester narrowly escaped drowning. It was a little after seven o’clock on June 19 in the year of Our Lord 1577, and business was practically over for the day. The taverns and alehouses were, of course, still open, and would so remain for three or four hours to come, for the evening was then, as it is now, their most busy time; but nearly all the shops in Fore Street of the good town of Devonport were closed,... more...

CHAPTER I TREATS OF THE PLACE WHERE OLIVER TWIST WAS BORNAND OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING HIS BIRTH Among other public buildings in a certain town, which for many reasons it will be prudent to refrain from mentioning, and to which I will assign no fictitious name, there is one anciently common to most towns, great or small: to wit, a workhouse; and in this workhouse was born; on a day and date which I need not trouble myself to repeat,... more...


CHAPTER I SYLVIA "Your name is in a song, isn't it?" said Grace Waite, as she and her new playmate, Sylvia Fulton, walked down the pleasant street on their way to school. "Is it? Can you sing the song?" questioned Sylvia eagerly, her blue eyes shining at what promised to be such a delightful discovery. Grace nodded smilingly. She was a year older than Sylvia, nearly eleven years old, and felt that it was quite proper that she should be able... more...

The Outpost. On the northern shores of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence there stood, not very long ago, a group of wooden houses, which were simple in construction and lowly in aspect. The region around them was a vast uncultivated, uninhabited solitude. The road that led to them was a rude one. It wound round a rugged cliff, under the shelter of which the houses nestled as if for protection from the cold winds and the snowdrifts that took special... more...

THE POOR DEBTOR. "THERE is one honest man in the world, I am happy to say," remarked a rich merchant, named Petron, to a friend who happened to call in upon him. "Is there, indeed! I am glad to find you have made a discovery of the fact. Who is the individual entitled to the honourable distinction?" "You know Moale, the tailor?" "Yes. Poor fellow! he's been under the weather for a long time." "I know. But he's an honest man for all that."... more...

Willie Mouse Willie Mouse had often heard his Ma and Pa say that the moon was made of green cheese, and one evening he thought he would see if he could find it. He packed up a piece of cheese and a crust of bread, and, taking his lantern, set out on his travels.     He had not gone far when he met his friend, Mr. Woodmouse, who asked him where he was going. “Oh!” said Willie, “I'm going to find the moon; it's... more...

Chapter One. “What shall we do with ourselves, my dear Stilkin?” exclaimed Count Funnibos, yawning and stretching out his legs and arms, which were of the longest. “Do! why, travel,” answered Baron Stilkin, with a smile on his genial countenance. “Travel! what for?” asked the Count, yawning again. “To see the world, to be sure,” answered the Baron. “The world! why, don’t we see it... more...