Juvenile Fiction
- Action & Adventure 179
- Animals 188
- Biographical 1
- Boys / Men 133
- Classics 1
- Fairy Tales & Folklore 11
- Family 123
- General 262
- Girls & Women 187
- Historical 141
- Holidays & Celebrations 72
- Humorous Stories 2
- Imagination & Play 3
- Legends, Myths, & Fables 48
- Lifestyles 253
- Mysteries, Espionage, & Detective Stories 12
- Nature & the Natural World 3
- Religious 81
- School & Education 127
- Science Fiction, Fantasy, & Magic 12
- Short Stories 6
- Sports & Recreation 31
- Toys, Dolls, & Puppets 10
- Transportation 44
Juvenile Fiction Books
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CHAPTER I “BACK TO THE COLLEGE AGAIN” “Oh, Rachel Morrison, am I too late for the four-ten train?” Betty Wales, pink-cheeked and breathless, her yellow curls flying under her dainty lingerie hat, and her crisp white skirts held high to escape the dust of the station platform, sank down beside Rachel on a steamer trunk that the Harding baggage-men had been too busy or too accommodating to move...
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In the Rectory Garden. “And so, Allan, you wish to go to sea?” “Yes, father,” I replied. “But, is there no other profession you would prefer—the law, for instance? It seems a prosperous trade enough, judging from the fact that solicitors generally appear well to do, with plenty of money—possibly that of other people—in their possession; so, considering the matter from a worldly point of...
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CHAPTER I MOVING IN Betty Wales sat down on the one small bare spot on the floor of her new room at the Belden House, and looked about her with a sigh of mingled relief and weariness. "Well," she remarked to the little green lizard, who was perched jauntily on a pile of pillows, "anyhow the things are all out of the trunks and boxes, and I suppose after a while they'll get into their...
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A Trip to Russia proposed—Cousin Giles and his History—Preparations for the Voyage—Journey to Hull—The Steamer described—The Voyage commenced—A Fog at Sea. “Thank you, thank you; it will be very delightful,” said Fred Markham. “It will be jolly, that it will!” exclaimed his younger brother Harry; and home they ran as fast as their legs could carry them to find their father and...
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Watson Charlton
HAVER GRANGE. Think of the prettiest garden you have ever seen: a dear, old-fashioned, sunny garden, with masses of snapdragon and white lilies and carnations, and big yellow sunflowers; and damask roses, and white cluster roses, and sweet-smelling pink cabbage roses, and tiny yellow Scotch roses—in fact, every kind of rose you can think of, except modern ones. Then you can imagine the Vicarage...
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Gordon Browne
How I made my Plans and they were Endorsed. “Now, Master Joseph, do adone now, do. I’m sure your poor dear eyes’ll go afore you’re forty, and think of that!” “Bother!” “What say, my dear?” “Don’t bother.” “You’re always running your finger over that map thing, my dear. I can’t abear to see it.” Nurse Brown looked over the top of her spectacles at me and shook her head,...
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Amy Brooks
AT THE CLEVERTONTHE great hotel on the crest of the hill was bathed in sunlight that poured from a rift in the clouds, as if sent for the sole purpose of showing the grand portico, the broad piazza, and the flag that floated gracefully on the summer breeze.Its many windows seemed to be looking across the valley to opposite mountain peaks, and one could easily imagine that its wide, open doorway, smiled...
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Margaret Sidney
A FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA "I wish," said Phronsie slowly, "that you'd come in, little girl." "Can't." The girl at the gate peered through the iron railings, pressing her nose quite flat, to give the sharp, restless, black eyes the best chance. "Please do," begged Phronsie, coming up quite close; "I very much wish you would." "Can't," repeated...
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Chapter One. “What shall we do with ourselves, my dear Stilkin?” exclaimed Count Funnibos, yawning and stretching out his legs and arms, which were of the longest. “Do! why, travel,” answered Baron Stilkin, with a smile on his genial countenance. “Travel! what for?” asked the Count, yawning again. “To see the world, to be sure,” answered the Baron. “The world! why, don’t we see it...
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"She leaned far out on the window-sill,And shook it forth with a royal will.'Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,But spare your country's flag,' she said." The black eyes of the little speaker burned with fiery indignation as she hurled these words of defiance at a ten-quart pail of blackberries standing in the middle of the dusty road where she had set it when the emotion of...
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