Juvenile Fiction Books

PREPARATIONS The big brown automobile gave three honks as it swung around the corner from Church Street. Roger Morton, raking leaves in the yard beside his house, threw down his rake and vaulted over the gate. "Good afternoon, sir," he called to his grandfather, saluting, soldier fashion. "Good afternoon, son. I stopped to tell you that those pumpkins are ready for you. If you'll hop... more...

CHAPTER I ROGER'S IDEA For the fortieth time that afternoon, it seemed to Ethel Brown Morton and her cousin, Ethel Blue, they untangled the hopelessly mixed garlands of the maypole and started the weavers once more to lacing and interlacing them properly. "Under, over; under, over," they directed, each girl escorting a small child in and out among the gay bands of pink and white which... more...

CHAPTER I ETHEL'S PLANS The morning after Ethel had declared herself her mother came up to her room. She could see that Mrs. Hollister had not slept and her eyes were red from weeping. Ethel kissed her, saying: "Mamma, we are going to be very happy together—you and I. I don't want to disappoint you, dear, nor would I do so willingly; but I simply can not live as I've been living.... more...

CHAPTER I. ESTER'S HOME. She did not look very much as if she were asleep, nor acted as though she expected to get a chance to be very soon. There was no end to the things which she had to do, for the kitchen was long and wide, and took many steps to set it in order, and it was drawing toward tea-time of a Tuesday evening, and there were fifteen boarders who were, most of them, punctual to a... more...

The School, the Master, and his Boys. It was a half-holiday. One of our fellows who had lately taken his degree and passed as Senior Wrangler had asked it for us. He had just come down for a few hours to see the Doctor and the old place. How we cheered him! How proudly the Doctor looked at him! What a great man we thought him! He was a great man! for he had won a great victory,—not only over his... more...

In Which the Tale Begins Somewhat Furiously. By the early light of a bright summer morning, long, long ago, two small boats were seen to issue from one of the fiords or firths on the west coast of Norway, and row towards the skerries or low rocky islets that lay about a mile distant from the mainland. Although the morning was young, the sun was already high in the heavens, and brought out in glowing... more...

Childhood. Ah dear delights, that o’er my soulOn memory’s wing like shadows fly!Ah flowers that Joy from Eden stole,While Innocence stood laughing by. Coleridge. “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” cried a young boy, as he capered vigorously about, and clapped his hands. “Father and mother will be home in a week now, and then we shall stay here a little time, and then, and then, I shall go to... more...

CHAPTER I CHILDHOOD"Ah dear delights, that o'er my soulOn memory's wing like shadows fly!Ah flowers that Joy from Eden stole,While Innocence stood laughing by."--COLERIDGE."Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" cried a young boy, as he capered vigorously about, and clapped his hands. "Papa and mamma will be home in a week now, and then we shall stay here a little time, and then, and... more...

THE RIGHT PROMETHEAN FIRE Emmy Lou, laboriously copying digits, looked up. The boy sitting in line in the next row of desks was making signs to her. She had noticed the little boy before. He was a square little boy, with a sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of the nose and a cheerful breadth of nostril. His teeth were wide apart, and his smile was broad and constant. Not that Emmy Lou could have... more...

CHAPTER I Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her. She was the youngest of the two daughters of a most affectionate, indulgent father; and had, in consequence of her sister's marriage, been mistress of... more...