Juvenile Fiction Books

The Derelict Link Ferris was a fighter. Not by nature, nor by choice, but to keep alive. His battleground covered an area of forty acres—broken, scrubby, uncertain side-hill acres, at that. In brief, a worked-out farm among the mountain slopes of the North Jersey hinterland; six miles from the nearest railroad. The farm was Ferris's, by right of sole heritage from his father, a Civil-War... more...

This is Little White Barbara. She was called Little White Barbara because she had such a white face. She lived with her two aunts, Aunt Dosy and Aunt Posy. This is Aunt Dosy. This is Aunt Posy. They were very kind to her. All day long they used to talk about what she ought to do to get fat and rosy. Every morning Aunt Dosy gave Little White Barbara cod liver oil to make her fat. And Aunt Posy rubbed... more...

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF THE TEAM The boys looked at the Professor in amazement. They were too much excited and concerned at the new situation to be able to interpret what the sudden disappearance of their team meant. The Professor turned to the boys: "Are you sure the yaks were tied before we left them?" "I was particularly careful," answered Harry, "to tie both of them."... more...

Preface. It was originally my intention to leave the child of my imagination to make its way where it would, without any letter of introduction in the form of the usual prefatory address to the reader; but having been assured that a preface is indispensable, I am laid under the necessity of formally giving a little insight into the character of the possible inmate of many a happy home. Reader, the... more...

CHAPTER I TWO BOYS WHO PLANNED TO BECOME GREAT "So this is Dunhaven?" inquired Jack Benson. "Ye-es," slowly responded Jabez Holt, not rising from the chair in which he sat tilted back against the outer wall on the hotel porch. "It looks like it," muttered Hal Hastings, under his breath. "Doesn't look like a very bustling place, does it?" asked Jack, with a smile, as... more...

herewas a young man in Monte Carlo. He had come in a motor car, and he had come a long way, but he hardly knew why he had come. He hardly knew in these days why he did anything. But then, one must do something. It would be Christmas soon, and he thought that he would rather get it over on the Riviera than anywhere else, because the blue and gold weather would not remind him of other Christmases which... more...

PREFACE. Several persons have asked me when Tom Slade was ever going to grow up and cease to be a Scout. The answer is that he is already grown up and that he is never going to cease to be a Scout. Once a Scout, always a Scout. To hear some people talk one would think that scouting is like the measles; that you get over it and never have it any more. Scouting is not a thing to play with, like a tin... more...

Chapter V. Tom as a patrician. Tom Canty, left alone in the prince's cabinet, made good use of his opportunity.  He turned himself this way and that before the great mirror, admiring his finery; then walked away, imitating the prince's high-bred carriage, and still observing results in the glass.  Next he drew the beautiful sword, and bowed, kissing the blade, and laying it across his... more...

LONG AGO AT BRAYCOMBE. The Story of the White-Rock Cove—"to be written down all from the very beginning"—is urgently required by certain youthful petitioners, whose importunity is hard to resist; and the request is sealed by a rosy pair of lips from the little face nestling at my side, in a manner that admits of no denial. "From the beginning;"—that very beginning carries me back... more...

How the Adventure Originated. The hour was noon, the month chill October; and the occupants—a round dozen in number—of Sir Philip Swinburne’s drawing office were more or less busily pursuing their vocation of preparing drawings and tracings, taking out quantities, preparing estimates, and, in short, executing the several duties of a civil engineers’ draughtsman as well as they could in a... more...