Harry Castlemon

Harry Castlemon
Harry Castlemon was the pen name of Charles Austin Fosdick, an American author renowned for his adventure novels aimed at young boys during the late 19th century. Born on September 6, 1842, in New York, Castlemon wrote popular series such as "The Gunboat Series" and "The Rocky Mountain Series." His works were characterized by their vivid storytelling and excitement, making them favorites among young readers of his time.

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CHAPTER I. ALL ABOUT THE FLAG. "Rodney Gray, I am ashamed of you; and if you were not my cousin, I should be tempted to thrash you within an inch of your life." "Never mind the relationship. After listening to the sentiments you have been preaching in this academy for the last three months, I am more ashamed of it than you can possibly be. You're a Yankee at heart, and a traitor to... more...

FRANK ON A GUN-BOAT. CHAPTER I. In the Navy. "Well, Frank, did you bring home the evening's paper?" inquired Mrs.Nelson, as her son entered the room where she was sitting. "Yes, ma'am. Here it is!" answered Frank, producing it. "But there is no news in it. The Army of the Potomac has not moved yet. I don't see what makes them wait so long. Why don't McClellan go... more...

CHAPTER I.   DISCONTENTED RECRUITS. "Captain, this thing must be stopped. I say it must be stopped, even if we have to resort to summary measures. We must find out who the ringleaders are, and make an example of them." The speaker was Colonel Brown, the commanding officer of Fort Lamoine. As he uttered these emphatic words he slammed a paper-weight down upon a pile of reports which the... more...

CHAPTER I. MARCY HAS A VISITOR. The boys who have read the first volume of this series of books, in which we followed the fortunes of our Union hero, Marcy Gray, and described the persevering but unsuccessful efforts he made to be true to his colors in deed as well as in spirit, will remember that we left him at his home near Nashville, North Carolina, enjoying a brief respite from the work he so... more...

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... more...

CHAPTER I. RODNEY KEEPS HIS PROMISE. "So you are going to stick to your uniform, are you? I thought perhaps you would be glad to see yourself in citizen's clothes once more, and so I told Jane to put one of your old suits on the bed where you would be sure to see it." It was Mrs. Gray who spoke, and her words were addressed to her son Rodney, who just then stepped out of the hall upon the... more...

FIRE QUARTERS. "Four bells, sir!" reported the messenger-boy, to the officer who had charge of the deck of the Storm King. "Very good. Quartermaster, make it so." The silvery tones of the little bell rang through the vessel, and immediately there began a great noise and hubbub on the berth-deck, which, but a moment before, had been so quiet and orderly. Songs, shouts of laughter, and... more...

A Scouting Party. Frank, of course, could not agree to the scout's proposition without first obtaining permission of either the admiral or Captain Wilson—the commander of the division to which the Boxer belonged. He did not know where to go to find the former, and besides, the latter had given him strict orders not to leave his station until relieved by some other vessel, and to allow no one to... more...

CHAPTER I.A GLANCE AT THE PAST. “Don't worry about it, mother. It is nothing we can help.” “It seems to me that I might have helped it. If I had gone to General Gordon when your father first spoke about that barrel with the eighty thousand dollars in it, and told him the whole story, things might have turned out differently. But in spite of all he said, I did not suppose that he was in... more...

CHAPTER I. The Home of the Young Naturalist. About one hundred miles north of Augusta, the Capital of Maine, the little village of Lawrence is situated. A range of high hills skirts its western side, and stretches away to the north as far as the eye can reach; while before the village, toward the east, flows the Kennebec River. Near the base of the hills a beautiful stream, known as Glen's Creek,... more...

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