Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I AN UNCEREMONIOUS DEPARTURE "Oh, isn't it just splendid, Ruth? Don't you feel like singing and dancing? Come on, let's have a two-step! I'll whistle!" "Alice! How can you be so—so boisterous?" expostulated the taller of two girls, who stood in the middle of their small and rather shabby parlor. "Boisterous! Weren't you going to say—rude?"... more...

PREFACE "Dave Porter in the Gold Fields" is a complete story in itself, but forms the tenth volume in a line issued under the general title of "Dave Porter Series." The series was begun some years ago by the publication of "Dave Porter at Oak Hall," in which my young readers were introduced to a typical American lad at a typical American boarding school. There was at that time a... more...

CHAPTER I. RODNEY UNHAPPY IN A GOOD HOME. T was a lovely Sabbath morning in May, 1828, when two lads, the elder of whom was about sixteen years old, and the younger about fourteen, were wandering along the banks of a beautiful brook, called the Buttermilk Creek, in the immediate vicinity of the city of Albany, N. Y. Though there is no poetry in the name of this little stream, there is sweet music made... more...

STORY IBUDDY PIGG IN A CABBAGEOnce upon a time, not so many years ago, in fact it was about the same year that Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the little puppy dog boys lived in their kennel house, there used to play with them, two queer little brown and white and black and white animal children, called guinea pigs. They were just as cute as they could be, and, since I have told you some stories about... more...

CHAPTER ITHE MASS-MEETING One might reasonably think that "all Dorfield" had turned out to attend the much advertised meeting. The masses completely filled the big public square. The flaring torches, placed at set intervals, lighted fitfully the faces of the people—faces sober, earnest, thoughtful—all turned in the direction of the speakers' platform. Mr. Peter Conant, the Chairman, a... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE BIG WOODS TRAIL Hippy Wingate stepped from the train that had just pulled into the little Red River Valley station and turned to observe Tom Gray and the others of the Overland Riders detrain. In one hand Hippy carried a suitcase, in the other a disconsolate-looking bull pup done up in a shawl strap. "Be you Gray?" Hippy turned to look at the owner of the voice, not certain... more...

MARLEY'S GHOST. Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was dead as a door-nail. Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it... more...

CHAPTER I. "I never thought I could be so glad to be anywhere except home," thought Molly Brown as she swung off the 'bus, and, seizing her suit case, ran into Queen's Cottage without so much as ringing the bell. Two juniors whom Molly had known only by sight the year before and several freshmen had been in the Wellington omnibus; no one in whom she could confide her enthusiasm as the... more...

HEPSA AND GENEVIEVE. Genevieve lived in a large, handsome house, which had beautiful gardens all about it. She had no brother or sister, but she had a large play-room, filled with the nicest toys, so that a good many children who came to play in it thought she must be perfectly happy; but Genevieve had often thought how willingly she would give the room and all its playthings for a little brother of... more...

THE QUILT THAT JACK BUILT "Johnny make a quilt!" repeated Rob Marshall, with a shout of laughter. "I'd as soon expect to see a wild buffalo knitting mittens!" "But you're not to speak of it outside the family, Rob," his mother hastened to say, "and you must not tease the little fellow. You older children have ways of earning pocket-money,—Rhoda with her painting,... more...