Juvenile Fiction Books

OFF TO CANADA "Hey there, Pud. Come here," yelled Bill Williams one day late in May to Pud Jones, as the latter sauntered across the athletic field. "I'm coming," said Pud, as he rushed across, and grabbing Bill by the shoulders slammed him up against the fence around the track. "What do you think this is?" asked Bill. "A football game, or do you take me for a tackling... more...

The Dragon off the Bonins—A conversation between Tom Rogers and Archie Gordon—Gerald Desmond on the sick-list—Threatenings of a typhoon—It strikes the ship—She runs before it—The ship hove to—The bowsprit carried away—A marine Will-o’-the-wisp—Enter a bay in one of the Bonin Islands—Tom, Gerald, and Billy get leave to visit the shore—A beautiful cavern—Land on the... more...

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.... more...

CHAPTER I. THE START. BR-R-R-RUB-A-DUB-DUB! Br-r-r-rub-a-dub-a-dub-dub! Br-r-r-rub-adub-dub-a-dub-dub-a-dub-dub!" "What's that?" cried Jimmieboy, rising from his pillow on the nursery couch, and looking about him, his eyes wide open with astonishment. "What's what?" asked mamma, who was sitting near at hand, knitting a pair of socks for a small boy she knew who would... more...

Choosing a new gown. “Give you good den, Master Clere!” said a rosy-faced countrywoman with a basket on her arm, as she came into one of the largest clothier’s shops in Colchester. It was an odd way of saying “Good Evening,” but this was the way in which they said it in 1556. The rosy-faced woman set down her basket on the counter, and looked round the shop in the leisurely way of somebody... more...

CHAPTER I IN WHICH OUR HERO GOES FISHING Startled from a sound sleep, he fumbled blindly beneath the bed that he might throttle the insistent alarm clock before the clamor awakened the other members of the household. Then he lay back and listened breathlessly for parental voices of inquiry as to what he might be doing at the unearthly hour of half-past three on a late September morning. Far down the... more...

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... more...

IN NEEDY CIRCUMSTANCES "How are you feeling this morning, father?" asked Fred Stanley as his parent came slowly into the dining-room, leaning heavily on a crutch. "Not so well, Fred. My leg pained me considerable last night, and I did not sleep much. You are up early, aren't you?" "Yes. I am going over to the new diggings and see if I can't get a job, so I want to start... more...

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... more...

THE FLY AND THE GAME. A knight of powder-horn and shotOnce fill'd his bag--as I would not,Unless the feelings of my breastBy poverty were sorely press'd--With birds and squirrels for the spitsOf certain gormandizing cits.With merry heart the fellow wentDirect to Mr. Centpercent,Who loved, as well was understood,Whatever game was nice and good.This gentleman, with knowing air,Survey'd the... more...