Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I THE FROG HUNTERS "How many greenback saddles does that last bullfrog Max shot make, Toby!" "T-t-thirteen, all t-t-told, Steve." "Ginger! that's going some for so early in the spring season, isn't it? I'd like to get about twenty before we quit, which would make just five for each of us, Max, Bandy-legs, you and myself. And seems like we ought to knock over... more...

THE HOME IN ALSACE In the southwestern corner of the domains of Kaiser Bill, in a fair district to which he has no more right than a highwayman has to his victim's wallet, there is a quaint old house built of gray stone and covered with a clinging vine. In the good old days when Alsace was a part of France the old house stood there and was the scene of joy and plenty. In these evil days when... more...

CHAPTER I. It was a cold, bleak and freezing day, was that second day of the year 1764, in the good town of Bennington. The first day of the year had been celebrated in a devout fashion by nearly all the inhabitants of the district. Truly, some stayed away from the meeting-house, and especially was the absence of one family noticed. "It seems to me kind of strange and creepy-like that those Allen... more...

CHAPTER I BREWSTER'S CENTRE Maybe you think just because scouts go camping in the summer time, and take hikes and all that, that there's nothing to do in the winter. But I'm always going to stick up for winter, that's one sure thing. Anyway, this story isn't exactly a winter story, it's a kind of a fall story—lightweight. Maybe after this I'll write a heavyweight... more...

CHAPTER 1 To Baree, for many days after he was born, the world was a vast gloomy cavern. During these first days of his life his home was in the heart of a great windfall where Gray Wolf, his blind mother, had found a safe nest for his babyhood, and to which Kazan, her mate, came only now and then, his eyes gleaming like strange balls of greenish fire in the darkness. It was Kazan's eyes that gave... more...

Chapter I. Making a Club.   There was a clattering of feet on the stairs leading to the chamber of Aunt Stanshy’s barn. First there popped up one head and a pair of curious eyes. Then there popped up a second head and two more eyes. Then there popped up a third head and two more eyes. “Jolly! Don’t she beat all?” It was Sid Waters who said this. “It’s de best barn in de lane,” said... more...

THE EXODUS The sun was a regular lie-abed on this Autumn morning, banked about by soft clouds and draperies of mist; but they glowed pink along the horizon—perhaps blushing for Old Sol's delinquency. The mist hung tenderly over the river, too—indeed, it masked the entire Valley of the Lumano—lying thick and dank upon the marshes and the low meadows, but wreathed more lightly about the... more...

FALSE FRIENDS. "Thorns and snares are in the way of the froward."—PROV. xxii. 5. Reflection. Page 25. "Philip, your conduct has distressed me exceedingly," said Lady Grange, laying her hand on the arm of her son, as they entered together the elegant apartment which had been fitted up as her boudoir. "You could not but know my feelings towards those two men—I will not call them... more...

"A THUNDER STROKE" "Whew!" said Russ Bunker, looking out into the driving rain. "Whew!" repeated Rose, standing beside him. "Whew!" said Vi, and "Whew!" echoed Laddie, while Margy added "Whew!" "W'ew!" lisped Mun Bun last of all, standing on tiptoe to see over the high windowsill. Mun Bun could not quite say the letter "h"; that is... more...

WHO I AM Yes, my name is Richard Mutton. Sounds rather queer, doesn't it? The lads in London town used to vex me sorely by calling, "Baa, baa, black sheep," whenever I passed them, and yet he who will may find the name Richard Mutton written in the list of those who were sent to Virginia, in the new world, by the London Company, on the nineteenth day of December, in the year of Our Lord,... more...