Juvenile Fiction Books

Song of the Sailor Boy. Oh! I love the great blue ocean,    I love the whistling breeze,When the gallant ship sweeps lightly    Across the surging seas.I watched my first ship building;    I saw her timbers rise,Until her masts were towering    Up in the bright blue skies. I heard the cheers ascending,    I saw her kiss the foam,When first her hull went plunging    Into her... more...

CHAPTER I. FATE AND A RUSTY NAIL. On such an afternoon, when all the rest of the world lay in the fierce glare of the scorching sun, who could blame the children for choosing to perch themselves on the old garden wall, where it was so cool, and shady, and enticing? And who, as Kitty often asked tragically in the days and weeks that followed, could have known that by doing so "they were altering... more...

Among the great wars of history there are few, if any, instances of so long and successfully sustained a struggle, against enormous odds, as that of the Seven Years' War, maintained by Prussia--then a small and comparatively insignificant kingdom--against Russia, Austria, and France simultaneously, who were aided also by the forces of most of the minor principalities of Germany. The population of... more...

The Butterfly’s Ball And The Grasshopper’s Feast. Come, take up your hats, and away let us hasteTo the Butterfly’s ball and the Grasshopper’s feast;For the trumpeter Gadfly has summoned his crew,And the revels are now only waiting for you. On the smooth-shaven grass by the side of the wood,Beneath a broad oak that for ages has stood,See the children of earth, and the tenants of air,For an... more...

CHAPTER I TROUBLE FROM NEAR AND FAR At the corner of High Street, where the lane led back to the stables of the Lake View Inn, Janice Day stopped suddenly, startled by an eruption of sound from around an elbow of the lane—a volley of voices, cat-calls, and ear-splitting whistles which shattered Polktown's usual afternoon somnolence. One youthful imitator expelled a laugh like the bleating of a... more...

WHO I AM Yes, my name is Richard Mutton. Sounds rather queer, doesn't it? The lads in London town used to vex me sorely by calling, "Baa, baa, black sheep," whenever I passed them, and yet he who will may find the name Richard Mutton written in the list of those who were sent to Virginia, in the new world, by the London Company, on the nineteenth day of December, in the year of Our Lord,... more...

“Why, Phebe, are you come so soon,Where are your berries, child?You cannot, sure, have sold them all,You had a basket pil’d.”“No, mother, as I climb’d the fence,The nearest way to town,My apron caught upon a stake,And so I tumbled down.“I scratched my arm, and tore my hair,But still did not complain;And had my blackberries been safe,Should not have cared a grain.Phebe and her Mother.“But... more...

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Chapter 1. A large party were assembled in the drawing room of Greendale, Sir John Greendale's picturesque old mansion house. It was early in September. The men had returned from shooting, and the guests were gathered in the drawing room; in the pleasant half hour of dusk when the lamps have not yet been lighted, though it is already too dark to read. The conversation was general, and from the... more...

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. It can hardly be supposed that all the boys who take up this book have read the Boat Club; therefore it becomes necessary, before the old friends of the club are permitted to reunite with them, to introduce whatever new friends may be waiting to join them in the sports of the second season at Wood Lake. However wearisome such a presentation may be to those who are already... more...