Juvenile Fiction Books

Halfway up the shining surface of the gilt-framed pier glass was a mark—a tiny ink-line that had been carefully drawn across the outer edge of the wide bevel. As Gwendolyn stared at the line, the reflection of her small face in the mirror grew suddenly all white, as if some rude hand had reached out and brushed away the pink from cheeks and lips. Arms rigid at her sides, and open palms pressed hard... more...

CHAPTER IA BOUT AT SINGLESTICK "Get thee down, laddie, I tell thee." This injunction, given for the third time, and in a broad north-country dialect, came from the guard of the York and Newcastle coach, a strange new thing in England. A wonderful vehicle the York and Newcastle coach, covering the eighty-six long miles between the two towns in the space of two-and-thirty hours, and as yet an... more...

THE LITTLE MIXER There was no fault to be found with the present itself; the trouble lay in the method of transportation. This thought was definite enough in Hannah's mind, but she had to rely upon a seven-year-old vocabulary for expression, and grown-ups are notably dull of comprehension. Even mothers don't always understand without being told exactly in so many words. "I didn't say... more...

DANNY MEADOW MOUSE LEARNS WHY HIS TAIL IS SHORT Danny Meadow Mouse sat in his doorway and looked down the Lone Little Path across the Green Meadows. Way, way over near the Smiling Pool he could see Old Mother West Wind's Children, the Merry Little Breezes, at play. Sammy Jay was sitting on a fence post. He pretended to be taking a sun bath, but really he was planning mischief. You never see Sammy... more...

THE LITTLE KITTENS. Only to think! A letter from Aunt Fanny to the little ones, which begins in this fanny way: "You Darling Kittens—" All the small children looked at Mary O'Reilly—who sat staring at the fire, with her whiskers sticking up in the air, and then felt their faces with their little fat hands. They did not find the least scrap of a whisker anywhere on their round cheeks;... more...

CHAPTER FIRST. THINGS BEGIN TO HAPPEN. "A magician most profound in his art." It was Sunday afternoon. The griffins on the doorstep stared straight before them with an expression of utter indifference; the feathery foliage of the white birch swayed gently back and forth; the peonies lifted their crimson heads airily; the snowball bush bent under the weight of its white blooms till it swept the... more...

CHAPTER I. A NEW WINNEBAGO. Sahwah the Sunfish sat on top of the diving tower squinting through Nakwisi's spy-glass at the distant horizon. "Sister Anne, sister Anne," called Migwan from the rocks below, "do you see any one coming?" Sahwah lowered her glass and shook her head. "No sign of the Bluebird yet," she answered. "If Gladys doesn't come pretty soon I shall... more...

UNCLE HARVEY'S PARLOR. Mr. Harvey's two sons, Thomas and John, were very anxious for their cousin, Samuel Reed, to spend the August holidays with them. His father said that he might; and when school was closed for the season, Samuel bade his father good bye, and was soon in the carriage, driving toward Uncle Harvey's country seat. The boys had not seen each other since New Year's... more...

CHAPTER I. Before giving the history of Charles Duran's birth, life, and early death, I will partially describe his father's residence. It was situated in the town of ——, in the State of Connecticut, and about six miles from the west bank of the beautiful Connecticut river. The house stood on a level road, running north and south, and was about one mile from the centre of the town. Mr.... more...

Chapter One. A beautiful island lying like a gem on the breast of the great Pacific—a coral reef surrounding, and a calm lagoon within, on the glass-like surface of which rests a most piratical-looking schooner. Such is the scene to which we invite our reader’s attention for a little while. At the time of which we write it was an eminently peaceful scene. So still was the atmosphere, so unruffled... more...