Juvenile Fiction Books

Showing: 1221-1230 results of 1873

by: Anonymous
Ida was a kind-hearted girl, and one day when crossing a bridge near her home, she saw two boys on the banks of the stream, trying to drown a little dog. Ida, like all good girls, could not bear to see anything suffer, and was brave enough to try and prevent it. So, she ran to the shore, wringing her hands, and crying loudly, "Oh! you bad, wicked boys! how can you be so cruel to that poor little... more...

CHAPTER I OFF FOR A SLEIGH-RIDE “What is the matter, Dave? You look rather mystified.” “I am mystified, Laura,” replied Dave Porter. “I have a letter here that I can’t understand at all.” “Whom is it from?” questioned Laura Porter, as she came closer to her brother, who was ensconced in the largest easy-chair the Wadsworth library contained. “It’s from a shopkeeper in Coburntown,... more...

THE STORY OF MISS MOPPET This is a Pussy called Miss Moppet, she thinks she has heard a mouse! This is the Mouse peeping out behind the cupboard, and making fun of Miss Moppet. He is not afraid of a kitten. This is Miss Moppet jumping just too late; she misses the Mouse and hits her own head. She thinks it is a very hard cupboard! The Mouse watches Miss Moppet from the top of the cupboard. Miss Moppet... more...

CHAPTER IELLIOTT PLANS AND FATE DISPOSES Now and then the accustomed world turns a somersault; one day it faces you with familiar features, the next it wears a quite unrecognizable countenance. The experience is, of course, nothing new, though it is to be doubted whether it was ever staged so dramatically and on so vast a scale as during the past four years. And no one to whom it happens is ever the... more...

The Grateful Indian, A Tale of Rupert’s Land. By William H.G. Kingston. We cannot boast of many fine evenings in old England—dear old England for all that!—and when they do come they are truly lovely and worthy of being prized the more. It was on one of the finest of a fine summer that Mr Frampton, the owner of a beautiful estate in Devonshire, was seated on a rustic bench in his garden, his son... more...

THE RAFT. Although the Venture was by no means so large a raft as many that Winn Caspar had watched glide down the Mississippi, he considered it about the finest craft of that description ever put together. He was also a little more proud of it than of anything else in the whole world. Of course he excepted his brave soldier father, who had gone to the war as a private, to come home when it was all... more...

The Rover’s Return. On a certain summer morning, about the middle of the present century, a big bluff man, of seafaring aspect, found himself sauntering in a certain street near London Bridge. He was a man of above fifty, but looked under forty in consequence of the healthful vigour of his frame, the freshness of his saltwater face, and the blackness of his shaggy hair. Although his gait, pilot-cloth... more...

by: Anonymous
John-ny Wil-son and Ned Brown were play-ing at ball one day, and the ball hit John on the hand: he was ve-ry an-gry, and ran af-ter Ned and beat him ve-ry hard. Just then, a man came by and gave John a box on the ear which made him let go of Ned, and he be-gan to cry. Then the man said, “You beat that lit-tle boy and for-get how you hurt him, but you do not like it your-self." Then John was... more...

The Tale Begins with the Engaging of a “Tail”—and the Captain Delivers his Opinions on Various Subjects. Captain Dunning stood with his back to the fireplace in the back-parlour of a temperance coffee-house in a certain town on the eastern seaboard of America. The name of that town is unimportant, and, for reasons with which the reader has nothing to do, we do not mean to disclose it. Captain... more...

CHAPTER I. WE MAKE A START. I was sitting on the deck of a Savannah steam-ship, which was lying at a dock in the East River, New York. I was waiting for young Rectus, and had already waited some time; which surprised me, because Rectus was, as a general thing, a very prompt fellow, who seldom kept people waiting. But it was probably impossible for him to regulate his own movements this time, for his... more...