Juvenile Fiction Books

INTRODUCTION. BY MISS MINETTE GATTINA. It may seem peculiar to any but an inhabitant of this renowned city of Caneville, that one of our nation should venture on the task of bringing to the notice of the world the memoir I have undertaken to edit. But, besides that in this favoured place animals of all kinds learn to dwell in tolerable harmony together, the subject of this biography had so endeared... more...

My dear Anne,When I was upon a visit at your good mamma's, I promised to make you a present. Now a present for a girl of your age (if I only considered your age) is easy enough to find; but when I think on your good sense, I cannot reconcile myself to buy for you what I otherwise should. Not to keep you in suspense, I have at last found out a present, which I hope will be agreeable to you. Attend... more...

Chapter One. My infancy and education—How I was sold and who bought me. “Then you can guarantee it to be a good one to go?” “You couldn’t have a better, sir.” “And it will stand a little roughish wear, you think?” “I’m sure of it, sir; it’s an uncommon strong watch.” “Then I’ll take it.” These few sentences determined my destiny, and from that moment my career may be said... more...

CHAPTER I Bismillah Al-la-hu Akbar! These queer-looking, queer-sounding words, which in Arabic mean "thanks be to God," were shrilled out at the very top of Head-nurse's voice. Had she been in a room they would have filled it and echoed back from the walls; for she was a big, deep-chested woman. But she was only in a tent; a small tent, which had been pitched in a hurry in an... more...

THE BOOMS At nine o'clock one morning Bobby Orde, following an agreement with his father, walked sedately to the Proper Place, where he kept his cap and coat and other belongings. The Proper Place was a small, dark closet under the angle of the stairs. He called it the Proper Place just as he called his friend Clifford Fuller, or the saw-mill town in which he lived Monrovia—because he had always... more...

BUSTER BEAR GOES FISHING Buster Bear yawned as he lay on his comfortable bed of leaves and watched the first early morning sunbeams creeping through the Green Forest to chase out the Black Shadows. Once more he yawned, and slowly got to his feet and shook himself. Then he walked over to a big pine-tree, stood up on his hind legs, reached as high up on the trunk of the tree as he could, and scratched... more...

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Four Folk o’ Bristol City. “Mind your head! Crikey! That was near, ’nother inch, and you’d ha’ crushed him like an eggshell.” “Well, you told me to lower down.” “No, I didn’t, stupid.” “Yes, you did.” “No, I didn’t. You’re half tipsy, or half asleep, or—” “There, there, hold your tongue, Jem. I’m not hurt, and Mike thought you said lower away. That’s enough.”... more...

Billy Mink Finds Little Joe Otter Billy Mink ran around the edge of the Smiling Pool and turned down by the Laughing Brook. His eyes twinkled with mischief, and he hurried as only Billy can. As he passed Jerry Muskrat's house, Jerry saw him. "Hi, Billy Mink! Where are you going in such a hurry this fine morning?" he called. "To find Little Joe Otter. Have you seen anything of him?"... more...

CHAPTER I. I FIND MYSELF A FOUNDLING. My earliest recollections are of a square courtyard surrounded by high walls and paved with blue and white pebbles in geometrical patterns—circles, parallelograms, and lozenges. Two of these walls were blank, and had been coped with broken bottles; a third, similarly coped, had heavy folding doors of timber, leaden-grey in colour and studded with black... more...