E. (Edith) Nesbit

CHAPTER 1. THE JUNGLE Children are like jam: all very well in the proper place, but you can't stand them all over the shop—eh, what?' These were the dreadful words of our Indian uncle. They made us feel very young and angry; and yet we could not be comforted by calling him names to ourselves, as you do when nasty grown-ups say nasty things, because he is not nasty, but quite the exact... more...

CHAPTER 1. THE COUNCIL OF WAYS AND MEANS This is the story of the different ways we looked for treasure, and I think when you have read it you will see that we were not lazy about the looking. There are some things I must tell before I begin to tell about the treasure-seeking, because I have read books myself, and I know how beastly it is when a story begins, "'Alas!" said Hildegarde with... more...

CHAPTER 1. THE PSAMMEAD There were once four children who spent their summer holidays in a white house, happily situated between a sandpit and a chalkpit. One day they had the good fortune to find in the sandpit a strange creature. Its eyes were on long horns like snail's eyes, and it could move them in and out like telescopes. It had ears like a bat's ears, and its tubby body was shaped like... more...

THE THINGS THAT MATTER.   NOW that I've nearly done my days,  And grown too stiff to sweep or sew,  I sit and think, till I'm amaze,  About what lots of things I know:  Things as I've found out one by one—  And when I'm fast down in the clay,  My knowing things and how they're done  Will all be lost and thrown away.   There's things, I know, as... more...

Chapter I. The beginning of things. They were not railway children to begin with. I don't suppose they had ever thought about railways except as a means of getting to Maskelyne and Cook's, the Pantomime, Zoological Gardens, and Madame Tussaud's. They were just ordinary suburban children, and they lived with their Father and Mother in an ordinary red-brick-fronted villa, with coloured... more...

CHAPTER 1. THE EGG It began with the day when it was almost the Fifth of November, and a doubt arose in some breast—Robert's, I fancy—as to the quality of the fireworks laid in for the Guy Fawkes celebration. 'They were jolly cheap,' said whoever it was, and I think it was Robert, 'and suppose they didn't go off on the night? Those Prosser kids would have something to... more...

CHAPTER I. THE INEVITABLE. "No. The chemises aren't cut out. I haven't had time. There are enough shirts to go on with, aren't there, Mrs. James?" said Betty. "We can make do for this afternoon, Miss, but the men they're getting blowed out with shirts. It's the children's shifts as we can't make shift without much longer." Mrs. James, habitually... more...

THE ROAD TO ROME; OR, THESILLY STOWAWAYWeBastables have only two uncles, and neither of them, are our own natural-born relatives. One is a great-uncle, and the other is the uncle from his birth of Albert, who used to live next door to us in the Lewisham Road. When we first got to know him (it was over some baked potatoes, and is quite another story) we called him Albert-next-door's-Uncle, and then... more...

I THE HAUNTED INHERITANCE The most extraordinary thing that ever happened to me was my going back to town on that day. I am a reasonable being; I do not do such things. I was on a bicycling tour with another man. We were far from the mean cares of an unremunerative profession; we were men not fettered by any given address, any pledged date, any preconcerted route. I went to bed weary and cheerful, fell... more...

LONDON:HENRY J. DRANE & CO.Paternoster Row E.C.                  New York: E.P. Dutton & Co.         I.                  What dreams the flower cups enfold                    Within their fragrant leaves,                 Of meadow-ways grown fair with spring,                    Soft mists that April... more...