Juvenile Fiction Books

here was once a little white baby boy called Bab-ba, he had bright blue eyes and golden curls, and he had a black Ayah for his nurse. She had been with Bab-ba ever since he was quite a tiny baby in long robes, and she was very fond of him. Her name was Jeejee-walla, but they just called her Ayah. ab-ba’s Father was an English Officer in India, and they lived in a beautiful white house on the Simla... more...

A RUNAWAY AUTOMOBILE. "Li, there! Hook out!" shouted Harry Rattleton. "Hi, there! Look out!" echoed Bart Hodge, getting the words straight which Harry had twisted. "Get out of the way, fellows!" warned Jack Diamond. "The juice that it's loaded with must be bug juice!" squealed Danny Griswold. "It's crazy drunk!" "Tut-tut-tut-turn the cuc-crank the... more...

CHRISTMAS, A HAPPY TIME. Harriet and Elizabeth Mortimer were two very pretty, and generally speaking, very good little girls. Their kind papa and mamma had taken a great deal of pains that they should be good, and it was very seldom that they vexed them by being otherwise. A very happy time was now expected in the family at Beech Grove, by the arrival of John and Frederick Mortimer from school: it was... more...

CHAPTER I THE FIVE NUT FORAGERS The bright October sun was half-way down the western sky one Saturday afternoon. Two-thirds of the Fall month had already gone, and the air was becoming fairly crisp in the early mornings. All around the forest trees were painted various shades of bright scarlet, burnt umber brown and vivid gold by the practiced fingers of that master artist, the Frost-King. Flocks of... more...

THE PEPPERELLS AND THE CAPTAIN One bright warm noonday in May of the year 1638, Goodwife Pepperell opened the door of her little log cabin, and, screening her eyes from the sun with a toilworn hand, looked about in every direction, as if searching for some one. She was a tall, spare woman, with a firm mouth, keen blue eyes, and a look of patient endurance in her face, bred by the stern life of pioneer... 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...

THE PLAY COMMENCES. Blown to bits; bits so inconceivably, so ineffably, so "microscopically" small that—but let us not anticipate. About the darkest hour of a very dark night, in the year 1883, a large brig lay becalmed on the Indian Ocean, not far from that region of the Eastern world which is associated in some minds with spices, volcanoes, coffee, and piratical junks, namely, the Malay... more...

CHAPTER I. A HALT BY THE ROADSIDE. "Tara—tara!" Loud and clear sounded the notes of a bugle, blown by a very stout lad, clad in a new suit of khaki; and who was one of a bunch of Boy Scouts tramping wearily along a dusty road. "Good for you, Bumpus! Can't he just make that horn talk, though?" cried one. "Sounds as sweet as the church bell at home, fellows!" declared a... more...

HORSE TALK. "He's a beauty!" Jack Diamond uttered the exclamation. He was admiring a horse Frank Merriwell had lately purchased. "He is," agreed Danny Griswold, with his hands thrust deep into his trousers pockets and his short legs set far apart. "But think of paying a thousand dollars!" "He looks like a racer," declared Bruce Browning, who showed unusual interest... more...

CHAPTER I THE WRECK Into the city room of the New York Leader hurried Mr. Whiggen, the telegraph editor. In his hand was a slip of paper, containing a few typewritten words. Mr. Whiggen laid it on the desk of Bruce Emberg, the city editor. "Just came in over our special wire," said Mr. Whiggen. "Looks as if it might be a bad wreck. That's a dangerous coast. I thought you might like to... more...