Juvenile Fiction Books

I do not know where Ballymulligan is, and never knew anybody who did. Once I asked the Mulligan the question, when that chieftain assumed a look of dignity so ferocious, and spoke of "Saxon curiawsitee" in a tone of such evident displeasure, that, as after all it can matter very little to me whereabouts lies the Celtic principality in question, I have never pressed the inquiry any farther. I... more...

THE YOUNG ALASKANS AT HOME IN ALASKA “ Steamboat! Steamboat!” Rob McIntyre had been angling for codfish at the top of Valdez dock for the past half-hour. Now, hearing the hoarse boom of the ocean vessel’s whistle out in the fog-bank which covered the mouth of the harbor, he pulled in his fishing-line, hurriedly threw together his heap of flapping fish, and, turning, sent shoreward the cry always... more...

CHAPTER I THE SHADOW "Look, girls! There's a man!" "Where?" "Just creeping under the dining-room window!" "What can he want—looks suspicious!" "Oh, I'm afraid to go in!" "Hush! We won't go in just now!" "If only the boys were here!" "Well, don't cry—they will be here soon." "See! He's getting under the... more...

UNGAVA BOB I It was an evening in early September twenty years ago. The sun was just setting in a radiance of glory behind the dark spruce forest that hid the great unknown, unexplored Labrador wilderness which stretched away a thousand miles to the rocky shores of Hudson's Bay and the bleak desolation of Ungava. With their back to the forest and the setting sun, drawn up in martial line stood the... more...

CHAPTER I THE DECLINE OF MANCHESTER HOUSE Take a mining townlet like Woodhouse, with a population of ten thousand people, and three generations behind it. This space of three generations argues a certain well-established society. The old "County" has fled from the sight of so much disembowelled coal, to flourish on mineral rights in regions still idyllic. Remains one great and inaccessible... more...

CHAPTER I WELCOME HOME “I do think waiting for a steamer is the horridest, pokiest performance in the world! You never know when they’re coming, no matter how much they sight them and signal them and wireless them!” Mrs. Allen was not pettish, and she spoke half laughingly, but she was wearied with her long wait for the Mauretania, in which she expected her daughter, Nan, and, incidentally, Mr.... more...

CHAPTER I Yes, he was the most beautiful Prince that ever was born. Of course, being a prince, people said this; but it was true besides. When he looked at the candle, his eyes had an expression of earnest inquiry quite startling in a new born baby. His nose—there was not much of it certainly, but what there was seemed an aquiline shape; his complexion was a charming, healthy purple; he was round and... more...

THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR SERIES The Hunters of the HillsThe Rulers of the LakesThe Lords of the WildThe Shadow of the NorthThe Masters of the PeaksThe Sun of Quebec THE YOUNG TRAILERS SERIES The Young TrailersThe Forest RunnersThe Keepers of the TrailThe Eyes of the WoodsThe Free RangersThe Riflemen of the OhioThe Scouts of the ValleyThe Border Watch THE TEXAN SERIES The Texan ScoutsThe Texan StarThe... more...

A STRANGE MESSAGE Uproarious laughter from the girls with the wild flowers arousedCora. Rob Roland was gone. Had she fainted? Was that roaring in her ears just awakened nerves? "Cora! Oh, Cora! We had the most darling time," Bess wasbubbling. "You should have been along. Such a dear old farmer.He showed us the queerest tables. And he had the nicest son.Cora - What is the matter?"... more...

CHAPTER I. "Give me a flounder, Johnny?" said a little girl of eleven, dressed in coarse and ragged garments, as she stooped down and looked into the basket of the dirty young fisherman, who sat with his legs hanging over the edge of the pier. "I'll bet I won't," replied Johnny, gruffly, as he drew the basket out of the reach of the supplicant. "You needn't come round... more...