Juvenile Fiction Books

Chapter XII. The Prince and his deliverer. As soon as Miles Hendon and the little prince were clear of the mob, they struck down through back lanes and alleys toward the river.  Their way was unobstructed until they approached London Bridge; then they ploughed into the multitude again, Hendon keeping a fast grip upon the Prince's—no, the King's—wrist.  The tremendous news was already... more...

Little Will Shakespeare was going homeward through the dusk from Gammer Gurton's fireside. He had no timorous fears, not he. He would walk proudly and deliberately as becomes a man. Men are not afraid. Yet Gammer had told of strange happenings at her home. A magpie had flown screaming over the roof, the butter would not come in the churn, an' a strange cat had slipped out afore the maid at... more...

PREFACE If this kind of composition, of which the two years' product is now laid before the public, fail in art, as it constantly does and must, it at least has the advantage of a certain truth and honesty, which a work more elaborate might lose. In his constant communication with the reader, the writer is forced into frankness of expression, and to speak out his own mind and feelings as they urge... more...

CHAPTER FIRST    "I never saw an eye so bright,     And yet so soft as hers;   It sometimes swam in liquid light,     And sometimes swam in tears;   It seemed a beauty set apart     For softness and for sighs."                                 —MRS. WELBY. The school-room at Roselands was a very pleasant apartment; the ceiling, it is... more...

CHAPTER I It had stopped raining; Molly made quite sure of it by looking into the little puddles upon the walk. At first she thought there were drops still falling upon them, but it was only the wind which ruffled the surface. The green grass was misty with rain and upon the bushes the shining drops hung from every twig. Presently a sudden burst of sunshine broke through the clouds and changed the... more...

Halfway up the shining surface of the gilt-framed pier glass was a mark—a tiny ink-line that had been carefully drawn across the outer edge of the wide bevel. As Gwendolyn stared at the line, the reflection of her small face in the mirror grew suddenly all white, as if some rude hand had reached out and brushed away the pink from cheeks and lips. Arms rigid at her sides, and open palms pressed hard... more...

“Chicken Little! Chick-en Lit-tle!” The three little girls in the fence corner looked up but no one responded. “Chicken Little Jane!” The voice was a trifle more insistent. The little girl in the blue gingham dress and white frilled pinafore looked at her small hostess reproachfully. “Why don’t you answer, Jane?” “’Cause I’ll have to go in. She’ll think I don’t hear if I keep... more...

CHAPTER I. THE LITTLE COLOUR GRINDER T was a bright morning of early April, many hundred years ago; and through all the fields and meadows of Normandy the violets and cuckoo-buds were just beginning to peep through the tender green of the young grass. The rows of tall poplar-trees that everywhere, instead of fences, served to mark off the farms of the country folk, waved in thespring wind like great,... more...

STARTING. One beautiful morning in October the sun came up rejoicing. Dotty Dimple watched it from the window with feelings of peculiar pleasure. "I should think that old sun would wear out and grow rough round the edges. Why not? Last week it was ever so dull; now it is bright. I shouldn't wonder if the angels up there have to scour it once in a while." You perceive that Dotty's... more...

Our school has always assumed that children are interested in and will work with or give expression to those things which are familiar to them. This is not new: the kindergarten gives domestic life a prominent place with little children. But with the kindergarten the present and familiar is abandoned in most schools and emphasis is placed upon that which is unfamiliar and remote. It is impossible to... more...