Juvenile Fiction
- Action & Adventure 180
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- Biographical 1
- Boys / Men 133
- Classics 1
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- Historical 141
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- Humorous Stories 2
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- Lifestyles 253
- Mysteries, Espionage, & Detective Stories 12
- Nature & the Natural World 3
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- School & Education 127
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- Short Stories 6
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- Toys, Dolls, & Puppets 10
- Transportation 44
Juvenile Fiction Books
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by:
John Rae
f Course you know the story of "The Grasshopper and the Ant"—how one autumn, when the winds were growing raw and cold and the nights frosty, the poor Grasshopper, who hadn't done anything but fiddle and dance all through the pleasant summer and had nothing laid by for the hard winter, went to the thrifty Ant and asked for a bite to eat and a chance to warm his toes in the chimney...
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Margaret Penrose
CHAPTER I OUT OF A HAYRICK "Oh, my!" exclaimed one girl. "Oh, mine!" amended another. "Oh, ours!" called out a third. Then there was one awful bump, and the chorus was understood. The old-style hay wagon, which was like a big crib, wobbled from side to side. The young ladies followed its questionable example, and some of them "sort of" lapped-over on the others....
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Sleeping in Snow. Cold comfort is naturally suggested by a bed of snow, yet I have enjoyed great comfort and much warmth in such a bed. My friend Lumley was particularly fond of warmth and of physical ease, yet he often expressed the opinion, with much emphasis, that there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a night in a snow-bed. Jack Lumley was my chum—a fine manly fellow with a vigorous will, a...
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Angela Brazil
The End of the Holidays "Ingred! Ingred, old girl! I say, Ingred! Wherever have you taken yourself off to?" shouted a boyish voice, as its owner, jumping an obstructing gooseberry bush, tore around the corner of the house from the kitchen garden on to the strip of rough lawn that faced the windows. "Hullo! Cuckoo! Coo-ee! In-gred!" "I'm here all the time, so you needn't...
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A POMPOUS old gander who lived in a barn-yard thought himself wiser than the rest of the creatures, and so decided to instruct them.He called together all the fowls in the barn-yard, and the pigeons off the barn-roof, and told them to listen to him. They gathered around and listened very earnestly, for they thought they would learn a great deal of wisdom. "The first thing for you to learn,"...
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“Dick Burton, you’re a daddy! Polly’s been and got a baby for you, old boy!” exclaimed several voices, as the said Dick mounted the side of the old “Boreas,” on the books of which ship he was rated as a quarter-master, he having just then returned from a pleasant little cutting-out expedition, where he had obtained, besides honour and glory, a gash on the cheek, a bullet through the...
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A SONG OF GOLDEN SUMMER "Now, David, you know that I know that you don't know what I know. Therefore, if I know that you don't know what I know you don't know, it's very plain to be seen that either you or I know very little. Now, which of us is a know-nothing? Don't be afraid to confess. Remember, we are your friends." Hippy Wingate beamed benevolently upon his victim,...
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Henry Kingsley
THE LOST CHILD. Remember? Yes, I remember well that time when the disagreement arose between Sam Buckley and Cecil, and how it was mended. You are wrong about one thing, General; no words ever passed between those two young men: death was between them before they had time to speak. I will tell you the real story, old as I am, as well as either of them could tell it for themselves; and as I tell it I...
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L. T. Meade
CHAPTER I. THE POOR INNOCENT. The four children had rather peculiar names. The eldest girl was called Iris, which, as everybody ought to know, means rainbow—indeed, there was an Iris spoken of in the old Greek legends, who was supposed to be Hera's chief messenger, and whenever a rainbow appeared in the sky it was said that Iris was bringing down a message from Hera. The Iris of this story was a...
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Oliver Optic
"Kate!" said Mrs. Lamb to her daughter, who was playing in the garden, in front of the house. "What do you want, mother?" replied the little girl, without even lifting her eyes from the ground, in which she was planting a marigold. I don't think any of my young readers regard this as a proper answer for a little girl to make to her mother; and I hope none of them ever speak to...
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