Juvenile Fiction Books

THE FLOATING ACADEMY "Well, if this is a life on the ocean wave or anything like it, I am satisfied to remain on shore." "I knew that the Hudson river could cut up pretty lively at times, but the frolics of the Hudson are not a patch on this." "They said we would not be seasick, but if I am not I don't know what you call it. I don't want it any worse, at any rate."... more...

CHAPTER I GETTING A MOTOR BOAT "If you are going with the boys on the river, Jack, you will have to get a motor-boat. Won't you let me buy you one?" "No, not a bit of it, Dick." "But you want one?" "Certainly, and I am going to have one." "But motor-boats cost money, Jack. Why, mine cost me——-" "Never mind what it cost, Dick. You spend a lot more... more...

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Chapter One. Peter’s Home and Friends. “Are you better, mother, to-day?” asked little Peter, as he went up to the bed on which Widow Gray lay, in a small chamber of their humble abode. “I trust so, my boy,” she answered, in a doubtful tone, as she gazed fondly on the ruddy, broad, honest face of her only child, and put aside the mass of light hair which clustered curling over his brow, to... more...

PREFACE If this kind of composition, of which the two years' product is now laid before the public, fail in art, as it constantly does and must, it at least has the advantage of a certain truth and honesty, which a work more elaborate might lose. In his constant communication with the reader, the writer is forced into frankness of expression, and to speak out his own mind and feelings as they urge... more...

In the western part of England lived a gentleman of great fortune, whose name was Merton. He had a large estate in the Island of Jamaica, where he had passed the greater part of his life, and was master of many servants, who cultivated sugar and other valuable things for his advantage. He had only one son, of whom he was excessively fond; and to educate this child properly was the reason of his... more...

CHAPTER I. BEATRICE WILL FIT. "So," continued Mrs. Meadowsweet, settling herself in a lazy, fat sort of a way in her easy chair, and looking full at her visitor with a complacent smile, "so I called her Beatrice. I thought under the circumstances it was the best name I could give—it seemed to fit all round, you know, and as he had no objection, being very easy-going, poor man, I gave her... more...

A Romance of Old Albion. Opens with Leave-Taking. Nearly two thousand seven hundred years ago—or somewhere about eight hundred years B.C.—there dwelt a Phoenician sea-captain in one of the eastern sea-ports of Greece—known at that period, or soon after, as Hellas. This captain was solid, square, bronzed, bluff, and resolute, as all sea-captains are—or ought to be—whether ancient or modern. He... more...

“I’ll have to do it.” Claire Gifford stood in the salon of the Brussels pension which had been her home for the last three years, and bent her brows in consideration of an all-absorbing problem. “Can I marry him?” she asked herself once and again, with the baffling result that every single time her brain answered instantly, “You must!” the while her heart rose up in rebellion, and cried,... more...

Chapter I. A Multitude of Good Reasons.   In accordance with many most excellent precedents, I might begin by claiming the sympathy due to an orphan alone in the world. I might even summon my unguided childhood and the absence of parental training to excuse my faults and extenuate my indiscretions. But the sympathy which I should thus gain would be achieved, I fear, by something very like false... more...