Juvenile Fiction Books

A Dinner and a Duel. rederick passed the whole of the next day in brooding over his anger and humiliation. He reproached himself for not having given a slap in the face to Cisy. As for the Maréchale, he swore not to see her again. Others as good-looking could be easily found; and, as money would be required in order to possess these women, he would speculate on the Bourse with the purchase-money of... more...

CHAPTER I "Oh Tom, is it really safe?" A young lady—an exceedingly pretty young lady, she could be called—stood with one small, gloved hand on the outstretched wing of an aeroplane, and looked up at a young man, attired in a leather, fur-lined suit, who sat in the cockpit of the machine just above her. "Safe, Mary?" repeated the pilot, as he reached in under the hood of the craft to... more...

CHAPTER I. AT WAR WITH THE WORLD."Who would think so small a thingCould make so great a pother?" A pretty, cheerful nursery—a nursery in which surely children could not but be happy—with pictures on the walls and toys in the glass-doored cupboard, and rocking-horse and doll-house, and everything a child's heart could wish for. Spring sunshine faint but clear, like the first pale... more...

THE FLOATING ACADEMY "Well, if this is a life on the ocean wave or anything like it, I am satisfied to remain on shore." "I knew that the Hudson river could cut up pretty lively at times, but the frolics of the Hudson are not a patch on this." "They said we would not be seasick, but if I am not I don't know what you call it. I don't want it any worse, at any rate."... more...

CHAPTER I THE RIDE   Four people sat in the big, shining automobile. Three of them were men. The fourth was a little girl. The little girl’s name was Maida Westabrook. The three men were “Buffalo” Westabrook, her father, Dr. Pierce, her physician, and Billy Potter, her friend. They were coming from Marblehead to Boston. Maida sat in one corner of the back seat gazing dreamily out at the whirling... more...

CHAPTER I THE SPY ALARM “There’s a German on the ground! Get him!” The sun glistened on scores of polished bayonets, as sturdy figures, clad in olive drab, which matched in hue the brown of the earth, sprang from their trenches and rushed forward. “Put some pep into it! Lively now! Get the Germans!” There were dull thuds, and there was a ripping, tearing sound as the steel slashed its way... more...

CHAPTER I. THE WANDERER—WOLF THE SWINEHERD.               NCE upon a time, a boy lost his way in a vast forest that filled many a valley, and passed over many a hill, a rolling sea of leaves for miles and miles, further than the eye could reach. His name was Eric, son of the good King Magnus. He was dressed in a blue velvet dress, with a gold band round his waist, and his fair locks in silken... more...

TWO OF THE TYRANTS. "Here, Buck Bradford, black my boots, and be quick about it." That was what Ham Fishley said to me. "Black them yourself!" That was what I said to Ham Fishley. Neither of us was gentlemanly, nor even civil. I shall not apologize for myself, and certainly not for Ham, though he inherited his mean, tyrannical disposition from both his father and his mother. If he had... more...

SOMEBODY'S LITTLE GIRL If I were just to tell the things that Bessie Bell remembered I should tell you some very strange things. Bessie Bell did not know whether she remembered them, or just knew them, or whether they just grew, those strange things in some strange country that never was anywhere in the world; for when Bessie Bell tried to tell about those strange things great grown wise people... more...

INTRODUCTION "Among all the different ways of giving counsel I think the finest and that which pleases the most universally is fable, in whatever shape it appears." JOSEPH ADDISON How shall I bring to your mind the time and distance that separate us from the Age of Fable? Think of what seemed to you the longest week of your life. Think of fifty-two of these in a year; then think of two thousand... more...