Juvenile Fiction Books

Merry Stories And Funny PicturesWhen the children have been good,That is, be it understood,Good at meal-times, good at play,Good all night and good all day—They shall have the pretty thingsMerry Christmas always brings. Naughty, romping girls and boysTear their clothes and make a noise,Spoil their pinafores and frocks,And deserve no Christmas-box.Such as these shall never lookAt this pretty... more...

CAIN'S BRAND I.—ON THE MOOR. CAIN'S BRAND! that is no fact of the far past, no legend of the Middle Ages, for are there not Cains among us; white-faced, haggard-featured Cains to the last? Men who began with a little injury, and did not dream that their gripe would close in deadly persecution? Cains who slew the spirit, and through the spirit murdered the body? Cains unintentionally, whom... more...

A Tale of the Red River Plains. Help! A blizzard was blowing wildly over the American prairies one winter day in the earlier part of the present century. Fresh, free and straight, it came from the realms of Jack Frost, and cold—bitterly cold—like the bergs on the Arctic seas, to which it had but recently said farewell. Snow, fine as dust and sharp as needles, was caught up bodily by the wind in... more...

CHAPTER I THE PLAY BOX t the sound of footsteps along the hall Miss Terry looked up from the letter which she was reading for the sixth time. "Of course I would not see him," she said, pursing her lips into a hard line. "Certainly not!" A bump on the library door, as from an opposing knee, did duty for a knock. "Bring the box in here, Norah," said Miss Terry, holding open the... more...

CHAPTER I. A LETTER FOR SUNNYSIDE COTTAGE. Thomas Dawson was busy in the kitchen trying to make the kettle boil, and to get the fire clear that he might do a piece of toast. He had already tidied up the grate and swept the floor, and as he stood by the table with the loaf in his hand, about to cut a slice, his eye wandered down through the dewy, sunny garden, where every tree and bush was beginning to... more...

"Every state,Allotted to the race of man below,Is in proportion, doom'd to taste some sorrow."—Rowe. The Ion family were at home again after their summer on the New Jersey coast. It was a delightful morning early in October: the dew-drops on the still green grass of the neatly kept lawn sparkled in the rays of the newly risen sun; the bright waters of the lakelet also, as, ruffled by the... more...

PROUD AND LAZY. I. Tommy Woggs was a funny little boy. He was very proud and very lazy. He seemed to think he was a great man, and that other people lived only to serve and obey him. None of the boys and girls liked him, because he used to order them round, and because he thought himself so much better than they were. Tommy's father was a doctor, and a rich man. He could afford to have servants to... more...

A Fish out of Water. It was such a fine hot Midsummer day at Hollowdell station, that the porter had grown tired of teasing the truck-driver’s dog, and fallen fast asleep—an example which the dog had tried to follow, but could not, because there was only one shady spot within the station-gates, and that had been taken possession of by the porter; so the poor dog had tried first one place, and then... more...

Preface. It is almost allowable, I think, to say that this is a true story, for fiction has only been introduced for the purpose of piecing together and making a symmetrical whole of a number of most interesting facts in regard to Madagascar and the terrible persecutions that took place there in the early part and middle of the present century. I have ventured to modify time and place somewhat, as well... more...

Chapter One. “Heigh-Ho-Ha-Hum! Oh dear me!” “What’s matter, sir?” “Matter, Dirty Dick? Nothing; only, heigh-ho-ha! Oh dear me, how sleepy I am!” “Well, sir, I wouldn’t open my mouth like that ’ere, ’fore the sun’s up.” “Why not?” “No knowing what you might swallow off this here nasty, cold, foggy, stony coast.” “There you go again, Dick; not so good as Lincolnshire... more...