Juvenile Fiction Books

THE SALE OF LITTLE HARRY.Come read my book good boys and girlsThat live on freedom's ground,With pleasant homes, and parents dear,And blithesome playmates round;And you will learn a woeful tale,Which a good woman told,About the poor black negro race,How they are bought and sold. Within our own AmericaWhere these bad deeds are done,A father and a mother livedWho had a little son;As slaves, they... more...

CHAPTER I There was no denying the fact that Honor Carmody liked the boys. No one ever attempted to deny it, least of all Honor herself. When she finished grammar school her mother and her gay young stepfather told her they had decided to send her to Marlborough rather than to the Los Angeles High School. The child looked utterly aghast. "Oh," she said, "I wouldn't like that at all. I... more...

CHAPTER I. IN WHICH ERNEST THORNTON INTRODUCES HIMSELF. "Ernest Thornton!" called Mr. Parasyte, the principal of the Parkville Liberal Institute, in a tone so stern and severe that it was impossible to mistake his meaning, or not to understand that a tempest was brewing. "Ernest Thornton!" As that was my name, I replied to the summons by rising, and exhibiting my full length to all the... more...

I A SPECKLED BEAUTY Henrietta Hen thought highly of herself. Not only did she consider herself a "speckled beauty" (to use her own words) but she had an excellent opinion of her own ways, her own ideas—even of her own belongings. When she pulled a fat worm—or a grub—out of the ground she did it with an air of pride; and she was almost sure to say, "There! I'd like to see anybody... more...

CHAPTER I "This doesn't look like the street I came up through!" exclaimed Betty Gordon. "These funny streets, with their dear old-fashioned houses, all seem, so much alike! And if there are any names stuck up at the corners they must hide around behind the post when I come by like squirrels in the woods. "I declare, there is a queer little shop stuck right in there between two of... more...

CHAPTER I THE SANTA CLAUS SHOP The Nodding Donkey dated his birth from the day he received the beautiful coat of varnish in the workshop of Santa Claus at the North Pole. Before that he was just some pieces of wood, glued together. His head was not glued on, however, but was fastened in such a manner that with the least motion the Donkey could nod it up and down, and also sidewise. It is not every... more...

THE LIGHT GOES OUT If it were not for the very remarkable part played by the scouts in this strange business, perhaps it would have been just as well if the whole matter had been allowed to die when the newspaper excitement subsided. Singularly enough, that part of the curious drama which unfolded itself at Temple Camp is the very part which was never material for glaring headlines. The main occurrence... more...

nce upon a time there lived in the city of Bagdad a young man called Jalaladdeen. It was not his native place; but, in his early days, his father had taken up his abode there. He was, however, little acquainted with the town, in which he had grown up a sturdy youth; for his father inhabited a small house in one of the suburbs, and lived a very retired and frugal life. They managed their household... more...

CHAPTER I. A NOVEL BATTLE. "Pull him along, Carlos! Pull him along!" shouted a young gentleman about sixteen years of age, as he danced about on the back porch of his uncle's house, in a state of great excitement; "why don't you pull him along?" "He'll come, after awhile," replied the person addressed; "but he is very wild and obstinate." The boy on the... more...

HERO IS LOST "Where do you suppose Hero can be, Aunt Deborah? He isn't anywhere about the house, or in the shed or the garden," and Ruth Pennell's voice sounded as if she could hardly keep back the tears as she stood in the doorway of the pleasant kitchen where Aunt Deborah was at work. "Do you suppose the British have taken him?" she asked a little fearfully; for it was the... more...