Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. ANTWERP, ON THE SCHELDT. "Oh! how glad I am that part of the trip is over, now we've crossed from England to Antwerp without being wrecked!" "You certainly did seem to have a bad time of it, Tubby, in the wash of the Channel!" "Bad time did you say, Rob? It was a great deal worse than anything we struck on the voyage between New York and Liverpool, let me tell... more...

THE GOLD-HUNTERS. Jeff Graham was an Argonaut who crossed the plains in 1849, while he was yet in his teens, and settling in California, made it his permanent home. When he left Independence, Mo., with the train, his parents and one sister were his companions, but all of them were buried on the prairie, and their loss robbed him of the desire ever to return to the East. Hostile Indians, storm, cold,... more...

CHAPTER I. "Do come here, mother," said Eddie, carefully tip-toeing from the window, and beckoning with his hand. "Here is something I want to show you. Come carefully, or I am afraid you will frighten it." Mrs. Dudley laid aside her book, and stepped cautiously forward, Eddie leading the way back to the window. "What is it?" she inquired. "It is a bird with straw in its... more...

TIGER AND TOM The day was pleasant, in that particularly pleasant part of summer time, which the boys call "vacation," when Tiger and Tom walked slowly down the street together. You may think it strange that I mention Tiger first, but I assure you, Tom would not have been in the least offended by the preference. Indeed, he would have told you that Tiger was a most wonderful dog, and knew as... more...

CHAPTER I. HOW JOHN WHOPPER DISCOVERED THE AIR-LINE TO CHINA. Two years ago last February, I think it was on a Tuesday morning, I started as usual very early to distribute my papers. I had a large bundle to dispose of that day, and thought that if I took a short cut across the fields, instead of following the road from Roxbury to Jamaica Plain, I could go my rounds in much less time. I do not care to... more...

A TALK IN THE CHICKENYARD. "Why is it, I would like to know," said young Scratchfoot, throwing the sand over himself, "that every one is talking and carrying on of a hot Summer day the very time you ought to go to sleep?" "Hush up, Scratchfoot," said Topknot, "we are having a very lively conversation. Uncle Red Nose Mike has just asked a riddle, which none of us can guess.... more...

TWO TRAVELERS. "Well, that's a pretty nervy piece of business!" It was Frank Merriwell who spoke the words, more to himself than to any one else. Frank was westbound, from Oklahoma City at the time, continuing the extensive tour mapped out after his Uncle Asher had died and left him so much money. As readers of former books in this series know, Frank was not making the tour alone.... more...

THE RIGHT PROMETHEAN FIRE Emmy Lou, laboriously copying digits, looked up. The boy sitting in line in the next row of desks was making signs to her. She had noticed the little boy before. He was a square little boy, with a sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of the nose and a cheerful breadth of nostril. His teeth were wide apart, and his smile was broad and constant. Not that Emmy Lou could have... more...

AT HOME. Yes, it is an "at home" to which I am going to introduce you; but not the at-home that many of you—I hope all of you—have learnt to love, but the at-home of a bear. No carpeted rooms, no warm curtains, no glowing fireside, no pictures, no sofas, no tables, no chairs; no music, no books; no agreeable, cosy chat; no anything half so pleasant: but soft moss or snow, spreading trees,... more...

CHAPTER I THE MYSTERIOUS BOXES "What are you limping for, Bobolink?" "Oh! shucks! I see there's no use trying to hide anything from your sharp eyes, Jack Stormways. Guess I just about walked my feet off today, goin' fishin' with our patrol leader, away over to the Radway River, and about six miles up." "Have any luck, Bobolink?" instantly demanded the third member... more...