Juvenile Fiction Books

Treats of Our Hero’s Early Life, and Touches on Domestic Matters. William Osten was a wanderer by nature. He was born with a thirst for adventure that nothing could quench, and with a desire to rove that nothing could subdue. Even in babyhood, when his limbs were fat and feeble, and his visage was round and red, he displayed his tendency to wander in ways and under circumstances that other babies... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE LUMANO RIVER The steady turning of the grinding-stones set the old Red Mill a-quiver in every board and beam. The air within was full of dust—dust of the grain, and fine, fine dust from the stones themselves. Uncle Jabez Potter, the miller, came to the door and looked across the grassy yard that separated the mill and the farmhouse attached from the highroad. Under a broad-spreading... more...

At the Foot of the Mountain Range. Towards the close of a bright and warm day, between fifty and sixty years ago, a solitary man might have been seen, mounted on a mule, wending his way slowly up the western slopes of the Andes. Although decidedly inelegant and unhandsome, this specimen of the human family was by no means uninteresting. He was so large, and his legs were so long, that the contrast... more...

Two Travellers. “Don’t they bite, sir?” “Bite?” Smick! smack! flap! “Oh, murder!” “What’s the matter, sir?” “My hand.” “Hurt it, sir?” “I should think I have.” “You should wait till they’ve sucked ’emselves full and then hit ’em; they’re lazy then. Too quick for you now.” “The wretches! I shall be spotted all over, like a currant dumpling. I say, Shaddy, do... more...

How Phil Stukely and Dick Chichester narrowly escaped drowning. It was a little after seven o’clock on June 19 in the year of Our Lord 1577, and business was practically over for the day. The taverns and alehouses were, of course, still open, and would so remain for three or four hours to come, for the evening was then, as it is now, their most busy time; but nearly all the shops in Fore Street of... more...

Black Fort—The pack-horse train sets out—Sandy McTavish’s sagacity—The night-watch—The two redskin horse-thieves—A snowstorm—An uncomfortable bed and a terrible night—My delight at finding my horse alive—We obtain shelter in a wood—Desperate encounter between a lynx and an eagle for the possession of a hare—The hare becomes my prize—The untimely appearance of a wolf. The short... more...

At Sea—An Alarming Cry and a Rescue. “At sea once more!” said Will Osten in a meditative mood. Our hero made this remark one night to himself, which was overheard and replied to by his friend, Captain Dall, in a manner that surprised him. “It’s my opinion, doctor,” said the captain in a low voice, “that this is the last time you or I will ever be at sea, or anywhere else, if our skipper... more...

The Land of Anahuac. Away over the dark, wild waves of the rolling Atlantic—away beyond the summer islands of the Western Ind—lies a lovely land. Its surface-aspect carries the hue of the emerald; its sky is sapphire; its sun is a globe of gold. It is the land of Anahuac! The tourist turns his face to the Orient—the poet sings the gone glories of Greece—the painter elaborates the hackneyed... more...

CHAPTER I Tom Swift, who had been slowly looking through the pages of a magazine, in the contents of which he seemed to be deeply interested, turned the final folio, ruffled the sheets back again to look at a certain map and drawing, and then, slapping the book down on a table before him, with a noise not unlike that of a shot, exclaimed: "Well, that is certainly one wonderful story!"... more...

Chapter I Wonderful News "Letter for you, Tom Swift." "Ah, thanks, Mr. Wilson. This is the first mail I've had this week. You've been neglecting me," and the young inventor took the missive which the Shopton postman handed to him over the gate, against which Tom was leaning one fine, warm Spring day. "Well, I get around as often as I can, Tom. You're not home a great... more...