Juvenile Fiction
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Juvenile Fiction Books
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Speech-Day at Harton. “A little bench of heedless bishops there,And here a chancellor in embryo.” Shenstone. It was Speech-day at Harton. From an early hour handsome equipages had been dashing down the street, and depositing their occupants at the masters’ houses. The perpetual rolling of wheels distracted the attention every moment, and curiosity was keenly on the alert to catch a glimpse of the...
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Chapter 1: A Western Settler. Humphrey Angell came swinging along through the silent aisles of the vast primeval forest, his gun in the hollow of his arm, a heavy bag of venison meat hanging from his shoulders. A strange, wild figure, in the midst of a strange, wild scene: his clothes, originally of some homespun cloth, now patched so freely with dressed deerskin as to leave little of the original...
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by:
Hugh Walpole
CHAPTER I. THE BIRTHDAYIAbout thirty years ago there was at the top of the right-hand side of Orange Street, in Polchester, a large stone house. I say "was"; the shell of it is still there, and the people who now live in it are quite unaware, I suppose, that anything has happened to the inside of it, except that they are certainly assured that their furniture is vastly superior to the furniture...
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THE EARTHQUAKE "Tom, we're having a problem with the gyro-stabilizer," said Mark Faber, gray-haired president of the Faber Electronics Company. "Hope you can find out what's wrong." The eighteen-year-old inventor accepted the challenge with a smile. "I'll be glad to try, sir," he replied. Bud Barclay, a dark-haired young flier and Tom Swift Jr.'s closest...
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CHAPTER I "Father," exclaimed Tom Swift, looking up from a paper he was reading, "I think I can win that prize!" "What prize is that?" inquired the aged inventor, gazing away from a drawing of a complicated machine, and pausing in his task of making some intricate calculations. "You don't mean to say, Tom, that you're going to have a try for a government prize for...
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by:
Virginia Woolf
CHAPTER I It was a Sunday evening in October, and in common with many other young ladies of her class, Katharine Hilbery was pouring out tea. Perhaps a fifth part of her mind was thus occupied, and the remaining parts leapt over the little barrier of day which interposed between Monday morning and this rather subdued moment, and played with the things one does voluntarily and normally in the daylight....
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Chapter I A Scrap of Paper "Tom, did you know Andy Foger was back in town?" "Great Scott, no, I didn't Ned! Not to stay, I hope." "I guess not. The old Foger homestead is closed up, though I did see a man working around it to-day as I came past. But he was a carpenter, making some repairs I think. No, I don't believe Andy is here to stay." "But if some one is...
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by:
Burt L. Standish
THE OATH OF DEL NORTE. Rain had ceased to fall, but the night was intensely dark, with a raw, cold wind that penetrated to one's very bones. Shortly after nightfall three men crossed the east branch of the Ausable River and entered the little settlement of Keene. Of the three only one was mounted, and he sat swaying in the saddle, seeming to retain his position with great difficulty. The two men...
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Chapter I A JOLT ON A QUIET DAY "There's just one thing that I keep thinking about on a day like this," Dave Darrin sighed contentedly. "What's that?" Tom Reade wanted to know. "Supper?" Darrin turned, favoring Reade with a flash of disgust from his large, dark eyes. "I'm still waiting for the information," insisted Tom after a short pause. "You may as...
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