Juvenile Fiction
- Action & Adventure 180
- 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 15
- Short Stories 6
- Sports & Recreation 31
- Toys, Dolls, & Puppets 10
- Transportation 44
Juvenile Fiction Books
Sort by:
by:
J. J. Grandville
PREFACE.Amongthe contributions to the Great Exhibition which, from their position, did not acquire that popularity and praise which was due to them, were some fine specimens of embroidery from Vienna and various towns in Austria.Hung high up, beyond the glance of the casual observer, the elaborately-worked tapestry of Maria Fusinata attracted little attention. Those, however, who had the good fortune...
more...
CHAPTER I. CHRONICLES IN COLOR. "Speaking of diaries," said Gladys Evans, "what do you think of this for one?" She spread out a bead band, about an inch and a half wide and a yard or more long, in which she had worked out in colors the main events of her summer's camping trip with the Winnebago Camp Fire Girls. The girls dropped their hand work and crowded around Gladys to get a...
more...
MARY'S RAINBOW CHAPTER I. "You have grown very fond of your good nurse, haven't you, Mary?" "Indeed I have, Uncle. I wish she could go South with us after Christmas." "But don't you think it would be selfish of us to take her away from little folks who really need her? That brings us to a matter of importance which I must discuss with you this evening." Mary, in...
more...
by:
Maud Menefee
PIPPA. All the year in the little village of Asola the great wheels of the mills went round and round. It seemed to the very little children that they never, never stopped, but went on turning and singing, turning and singing. No matter where you went in the village, the hum of the wheels could always be heard; and though no one could really say what the wheels sang, everyone turned gladly to his work...
more...
Preface. The requirement of the gospel is that, having first given ourselves to Christ, we should then devote all we have, be it little or much, to His service. The largest gifts fall infinitely below what He deserves from us; the smallest will not be rejected by Him. For it is the motive, not the gift, which our Lord regards. The poor widow’s mite was more acceptable to Him than the ostentatious and...
more...
by:
Hannah More
BLACK GILES THE POACHER: CONTAINING SOME ACCOUNT OF A FAMILYWHO HAD RATHER LIVE BY THEIR WITS THAN THEIR WORK BY HANNAH MORE. This story exhibits an accurate picture of that part of the country where the author then resided; and where, by her benevolent zeal, a great reformation was effected among the poor inhabitants of at least twenty parishes, within a circle of thirty miles. Poaching Giles lives...
more...
Chapter I: The House by the Bridge. "Holy Church has never forbidden it," said John Clarke, with a very intent look upon his thoughtful, scholar's face. A young man who stood with his elbow on the mantelshelf, his eye fixed eagerly on the speaker's face, here broke in with a quick impetuosity of manner, which seemed in keeping with his restless, mobile features, his flashing dark...
more...
by:
Andrew Lang
INTRODUCTION There is nothing in artistic poetry quite akin to “Aucassin and Nicolete.” By a rare piece of good fortune the one manuscript of the Song-Story has escaped those waves of time, which have wrecked the bark of Menander, and left of Sappho but a few floating fragments. The very form of the tale is peculiar; we have nothing else from the twelfth or thirteenth century in the alternate...
more...
A Tale of the Red River Plains. Help! A blizzard was blowing wildly over the American prairies one winter day in the earlier part of the present century. Fresh, free and straight, it came from the realms of Jack Frost, and cold—bitterly cold—like the bergs on the Arctic seas, to which it had but recently said farewell. Snow, fine as dust and sharp as needles, was caught up bodily by the wind in...
more...
by:
Mayne Reid
Chapter One. I was just sixteen when I ran away to sea. I did not do so because I had been treated unkindly at home. On the contrary, I left behind me a fond and indulgent father, a kind and gentle mother, sisters and brothers who loved me, and who lamented for me long after I was gone. But no one had more cause to regret this act of filial disobedience than I myself. I soon repented of what I had...
more...