Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. AT BELLEVUE "You have the keenest eyes in the troop. Can you see anything ahead?" asked Colonel Winchester. "Nothing living, sir," replied Dick Mason, as he swept his powerful glasses in a half-curve. "There are hills on the right and in the center, covered with thick, green forest, and on the left, where the land lies low, the forest is thick and green too, although I... more...

The Goat and her Kid. he grass plot at the back of the cottage was a very bright green, and sparkled with the morning dews. It was kept smooth, and level, and short, by the garden-roller going over it once a week, and still more by the constant nibbling of the goat, who was allowed to be there all day, because she had a pretty little young kid that ran by her side. But it is not to be supposed that... more...

CHAPTER I With a rattle and a clatter the muddy flivver stopped with a squeak of brakes in front of Diamond X ranch house. From the car leaped three boys, one of them carrying a small leather pouch. "Here's the mail!" yelled this lad—Bud Merkel by name, and his cousins, Nort and Dick Shannon, added the duet of their voices to his as they cried: "Mail's in! Lots of letters!"... more...

CHAPTER I. THE ESCAPE. The summer sun blazed down scorchingly on the white road, on the wide stretch of moorland in the distance, and on the little coppice which grew not far from the road. The only shady spot for miles, it seemed, was that one under the trees in the little coppice, where the caravan stood; but even there the heat was stifling, and the smell of hot blistering varnish mingled with the... more...

CHAPTER I. DIDDIE, DUMPS, AND TOT.   They were three little sisters, daughters of a Southern planter, and they lived in a big white house on a cotton plantation in Mississippi. The house stood in a grove of cedars and live-oaks, and on one side was a flower-garden, with two summer-houses covered with climbing roses and honeysuckles, where the little girls would often have tea-parties in the pleasant... more...

THE LAST EVENING AT HOME "Now, then, everyone join in the chorus," commanded Hippy Wingate. There was an answering tinkle from Reddy's mandolin, the deeper notes of a guitar sounded, then eight care-free young voices were raised in the plaintive chorus of "My Old Kentucky Home." It was a warm night in September. Miriam Nesbit and seven of the Eight Originals were spending a last... more...

SOMEWHAT CONTAGIOUS It is October and the mountains are waking from their short winter sleep. It is October, the month of the moving mists. Come and let us take a walk, not down Fleet Street with Dr. Johnson, but up a mountain side with Nature,—nay, with God Himself. There is nothing to see, absolutely nothing at all. You know that there are trees on either hand of you, and that the undergrowth is... more...

IN A LONELY CABIN On the edge of a prairie, in western Iowa, thirty years ago, stood a cabin, covering quite a little ground, but only one story high. It was humble enough, but not more so than the early homes of some who have become great. The furniture was limited to articles of prime necessity. There was a stove, a table, three chairs, a row of shelves containing a few articles of crockery and... more...

THE WISTFUL HEART IT was long after noon in the far, big, white Northwest. Day was on the wing. Christmas Eve splendidly impended—thank God for unspoiled childish faith and joys of children everywhere! Christmas Eve was fairly within view and welcoming hail, at last, in the thickening eastern shadows. Long Day at its close. Day in a perturbation of blessed unselfishness. Day with its tasks of love... more...

My First Football Match. It was a proud moment in my existence when Wright, captain of our football club, came up to me in school one Friday and said, “Adams, your name is down to play in the match against Craven to-morrow.” I could have knighted him on the spot. To be one of the picked “fifteen,” whose glory it was to fight the battles of their school in the Great Close, had been the leading... more...