Juvenile Fiction Books

ALL ABOARD FOR DIXIELAND! "Aw, quit your kidding, now, George. You know I said I'd stick by you to the bitter end; and nobody ever knew Nick Longfellow to back water, did they?" "I guess you're right about that, Pudding. Your word is your strongest hold—next to eating. I depend on you to be my boat-mate on that long cruise, if so be we make a go of the race." "Huh! even... more...

CHAPTER I WHEREIN ELNORA GOES TO HIGH SCHOOL AND LEARNS MANY LESSONS NOT FOUND IN HER BOOKS "Elnora Comstock, have you lost your senses?" demanded the angry voice of Katharine Comstock while she glared at her daughter. "Why mother!" faltered the girl. "Don't you 'why mother' me!" cried Mrs. Comstock. "You know very well what I mean. You've given me no... more...

A WILD ROSE Ralph Destournier went gayly along, whistling a merry French song that was nearly all chorus, climbing, slipping, springing, wondering in his heart as many a man did then what had induced Samuel de Champlain to dream out a city on this craggy, rocky spot. Yet its wildness had an impressive grandeur. Above the island of Orleans the channel narrowed, and there were the lovely green heights of... more...

FINDING THE NEW HOME The late afternoon sunshine sent its slanting, golden rays through the car windows on to the map that Mary Jane and her sister Alice had spread out on the table between the seats of the Pullman in which they were riding. “And all that wiggly line is water?” Mary Jane was asking. “Every bit water,” replied their father, who bent over their heads to explain what they were... more...

OVERBOARD "All ready now! In position, everyone!" Half a score of actors and actresses moved quickly to their appointed places, while overhead, and at the sides of them hissed powerful electric lights, and in front of them stood a moving picture camera, ready to be operated by a pleasant-faced young man. "Ready?" came in questioning tones from Mr. Pertell, the stage director, as he... more...

THE CALL The wilderness rolled away to north and to south, and also it rolled away to east and to west, an unbroken sweep of dark, glossy green. Straight up stood the mighty trunks, but the leaves rippled and sang low when a gentle south wind breathed upon them. It was the forest as God made it, the magnificent valley of North America, upon whose edges the white man had just begun to nibble. A young... more...

Chapter One. The Western Paradise. “Well, boys, where have you been?” The speaker, a sturdy-looking, sun-tanned man, seated upon a home-made stool at a rough home-made table in a home-made house of rugged, coarsely-sawn boards, with an open roof covered in with what one of the boys had called wooden slates, had looked up from his writing, and as he spoke carefully wiped his pen—for pens were... more...

CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY. The little girl came into her papa's study, as she always did Saturday morning before breakfast, and asked for a story. He tried to beg off that morning, for he was very busy, but she would not let him. So he began: “Well, once there was a little pig—” She put her hand over his mouth and stopped him at the word. She said she had heard little pig-stories till she was... more...

A NEW WORLD. "Miss Montfort!" said the Principal. Peggy looked about her. "I wonder if it's another cousin!" she said to herself. "It can't be, or Margaret would have known. Dear Margaret! now if she were only here, she could answer, and everybody would—" "Miss Montfort!" said the Principal again, rather sharply. "Isn't that your name?" whispered... more...

CHAPTER I “Oh, what a glorious day!” cried Bessie King, the first of the members of the Manasquan Camp Fire Girls of America to emerge from the sleeping house of Camp Sunset, on Lake Dean, and to see the sun sparkling on the water of the lake. She was not long alone in her enjoyment of the scene, however. “Oh, it’s lovely!” said Dolly Ransom, as, rubbing her eyes sleepily, since it was only a... more...