Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I TOMMY TODD'S STORY "Mother, how many more stations before we'll be home?" "Oh, quite a number, dear. Sit back and rest yourself. I thought you liked it on the train." "I do; but it's so long to sit still." The little fellow who had asked the question turned to his golden-haired sister, who sat in the seat with him. "Aren't you tired,... more...

Two Little Savages I AN was much like other twelve-year-old boys in having a keen interest in Indians and in wild life, but he differed from most in this, that he never got over it. Indeed, as he grew older, he found a yet keener pleasure in storing up the little bits of woodcraft and Indian lore that pleased him as a boy. His father was in poor circumstances. He was an upright man of refined tastes,... more...

CHAPTER I Gipsy ArrivesOnedank, wet, clammy afternoon at the beginning of October half a dozen of the boarders at Briarcroft Hall stood at the Juniors' sitting-room window, watching the umbrellas of the day girls disappear through the side gate. It had been drizzling since dinner-time, and the prospect outside was not a remarkably exhilarating one. The yellow leaves of the oak tree dripped slow... more...

I. THE KING'S CHILDREN. There was once, in Christendom, a little kingdom where the people were pious and simple-hearted. In their simplicity they held for true many things at which people of great kingdoms smile. One of these things was what is called the "Golden Age." There was not a peasant in the villages, nor a citizen in the cities, who did not believe in the Golden Age. If they... more...

CHAPTER I A Peasant’s Hut in Russia IN the last volume of the Red Cross series the four American girls spent six months in tragic little Belgium. There, in an American hospital in Brussels, devoted to the care, not of wounded soldiers, but of ill Belgians, three of the girls lived and worked. But Eugenia went alone to dwell in a house in the woods because the cry of the children in Belgium made the... more...

SUNSHINE FACTORY. "Oh, dear! it always does rain when I want to go anywhere," cried little Jennie Moore. "It's too bad! Now I've got to stay in-doors all day, and I know I shall have a wretched day." "Perhaps so," said Uncle Jack; "but you need not have a bad day unless you choose." "How can I help it? I wanted to go to the park and hear the band, and take... more...

Morning in the Grifoni Palace. Near the banks of the river Arno, in an upper room of the beautiful old palace of the Grifoni family, Beppina, the twelve-year-old daughter of the Marchese, lay peacefully sleeping. In his own room across the hall from hers, Beppo, her twin brother, slept also, though it was already early dawn of Easter Saturday in the city of Florence, and both children had meant to be... more...

LONGING FOR NIGHT. "I think there's trouble ahead, Dan'l." "There isn't any doubt of it, Simon." The first remark was made by the famous pioneer ranger, Simon Kenton, and the second fell from the lips of the more famous Daniel Boone. It was at the close of a warm day in August, more than a century ago, that these veterans of the woods came together for the purpose of... more...

When the time-gun boomed from Edinburgh Castle, Bobby gave a startled yelp. He was only a little country dog—the very youngest and smallest and shaggiest of Skye terriers—bred on a heathery slope of the Pentland hills, where the loudest sound was the bark of a collie or the tinkle of a sheep-bell. That morning he had come to the weekly market with Auld Jock, a farm laborer, and the Grassmarket of... more...

My home, and how I left it. The day arrived. A post-chaise stood in front of the old grey manor-house. I have it all before me. The pointed gables—the high-pitched, dark weather; stained roof—the numberless latticed windows—the moat, now dry, which had once served to keep out a body of Cromwell’s horse—the tall elms, which had nestled many a generation of rooks—the clump of beech trees, and... more...