Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I BILLY WRITES A LETTER Billy Neilson was eighteen years old when the aunt, who had brought her up from babyhood, died. Miss Benton's death left Billy quite alone in the world—alone, and peculiarly forlorn. To Mr. James Harding, of Harding & Harding, who had charge of Billy's not inconsiderable property, the girl poured out her heart in all its loneliness two days after the... more...

AN ALLEGORY."Thou that hast given so much to me,Give one thing more—a grateful heart."George Herbert. "Well, father, I don't believe the Browns are a bit better off than we are; and yet when I spent the day with young Brown, we cooked all sorts of messes in the afternoon; and he wasted twice as much rum and brandy and lemons in his trash, as I should want to make good punch of. He... more...

I wish that all the little boys and girls who read this story could see Grandmother Puss; but as they cannot, I will tell you something about her. She is a very large, and handsome old cat of grave aspect, and solemn manners. Her face is black, with white marks around the eyes, and across the nose, which make her look as if she wore spectacles; and she has a grandson called Peter, who lives with her.... more...

Chapter I.   A single cloud on a sunny day    When all the rest of heaven is clear,    A frown upon the atmosphere,    That hath no business to appear,  When skies are blue and earth is gay. Byron. Come, dear grandpa!—the old mare and the wagon are at the gate—all ready." "Well, dear!"—responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I haven't got my... more...

The Rock. Early on a summer morning, about the beginning of the nineteenth century, two fishermen of Forfarshire wended their way to the shore, launched their boat, and put off to sea. One of the men was tall and ill-favoured, the other, short and well-favoured. Both were square-built, powerful fellows, like most men of the class to which they belonged. It was about that calm hour of the morning which... more...

Chapter One. My infancy and education—How I was sold and who bought me. “Then you can guarantee it to be a good one to go?” “You couldn’t have a better, sir.” “And it will stand a little roughish wear, you think?” “I’m sure of it, sir; it’s an uncommon strong watch.” “Then I’ll take it.” These few sentences determined my destiny, and from that moment my career may be said... more...

CHAPTER I. "NOTHING BUT A BOY." A young fellow in a light buggy, with a big black dog sitting composedly beside him, enjoying the ride, drove up, one summer afternoon, to the door of a log-house, in one of the early settlements of Northern Illinois. A woman with lank features, in a soiled gown trailing its rags about her bare feet, came and stood in the doorway and stared at him. "Does Mr.... more...

Self and Friends. Bigley Uggleston always said that it was in 1753, because he vowed that was the hot year when we had gone home for the midsummer holidays from Barnstaple Grammar-school. Bob Chowne stuck out, as he always would when he knew he was wrong, that it was in 1755, and when I asked him why he put it then, he held up his left hand with his fingers and thumb spread out, which was always his... more...

CHAPTER I. A QUESTION OF PROPERTY. "It's a shame, mother! The property belonged to father and the village has no right to its use without paying for it." "I agree with you, Ralph," replied Mrs. Nelson. "But what are we to do in the matter?" "Why don't you speak to Squire Paget? He is the president of the village board." "I have spoken to him, but he will... more...

CHAPTER I "I'VE VOLUNTEERED!" "Well, who is going to read the paper?" Amy Blackford stopped knitting for a moment, the half-finished sweater suspended inquiringly in the air, while she asked her question and gazed about impatiently at her busy group of friends. "It's your turn, anyhow, Mollie," she added, fingers flying and head bent as she resumed her work. "You... more...