One Afternoon. “I say, don’t, Green: let the poor things alone!” “You mind your own business. Oh! bother the old thorns!” Brian Green snatched his hand out of the quickset hedge into which he had thrust it, to reach the rough outside of a nest built by a bird, evidently in the belief that the hawthorn leaves would hide it from sight, and while they were growing the thorns would protect it... more...

LITTLE TORA. The kindly doctor was entertaining his brother-in-law, and all the family were sitting round the table in state. The polished silver and shining glass, with porcelain, flowers, and fruit, seemed to be all that had been provided for the dinner. The usual "grace" had hardly been said, when a trim maid announced that a little girl was at the door, who must see the doctor about... more...

Chapter One. Introduces Lucy Walford. Those who have ever had occasion to reside for any length of time in Gosport are sure to be more or less acquainted with the little village of Alverstoke; because it lies near at hand, and the road leading thereto forms one of the most pleasant walks in the neighbourhood. But it may be that there are those, into whose hands this book will fall, who have never so... more...

FOREWORD The story contained herein was written by Charles Dickens in 1867. It is the first of four stories entitled "Holiday Romance" and was published originally in a children's magazine in America. It purports to be written by a child aged eight. It was republished in England in "All the Year Round" in 1868. For this and four other Christmas pieces Dickens received £1,000.... more...

A Supplanter 'For troubles wrought of men,Patience is hard.'—J. Ingelow. The firelight shone upon a comfortably-furnished drawing-room in one of the quiet London squares, and upon four girlish figures grouped around a small tea-table. Agatha Dane, the eldest, sat back in her chair with a little wrinkle of perplexity upon her usually placid brow. Rather plump and short of stature, with no... more...

CHAPTER I DRIVEN FROM TOWN "Come now, you boys git out of here! No tramps allowed in Freeport while Ezra Jenkins is constable! Move along, now, or I'll arrest ye! Here's my badge of authority!" And a crabbed old man, wearing a faded blue suit, with a big shining star of metal on his coat, tapped the emblem with his club. Two boys, who had just joined each other, after having called at... more...

On the morning of the 15th of July, 1718, anyone who had been standing on the low rocks of the Penobscot bay shore might have seen a large, clumsy boat of hewn planking making its way out against the tide that set strongly up into the river mouth. She was loaded deep with a shifting, noisy cargo that lifted white noses and huddled broad, woolly backs—in fact, nothing less extraordinary than fifteen... more...

THE STORY OF THE THREE GOBLINS. Once upon a time there were three little goblins. Their names were Red-Cap, Blue-Cap and Yellow-Cap, and they lived in a mountain. The goblins had a great friend—a green frog whose name was Rowley. Rowley came every year to see the little goblins, and told them stories about the Big World where he lived. The goblins had never seen the Big World, and often asked their... more...

Down the Line. “Bob!” The noise of the train, however, drowned Nellie’s voice; besides which Master Bob was further prevented from hearing this appeal to him by reason of his head and shoulders being at that precise instant projected out of the window of the railway-carriage, in utter defiance of the Company’s bye-laws to the contrary and of his sister’s solicitous entreaties to the same... more...

AT NEW CONSTANTINOPLE IT had been snowing hard for twenty-four hours at Dead Man’s Gulch. Beginning with a few feathery particles, they had steadily increased in number until the biting air was filled with billions of snowflakes, which whirled and eddied in the gale that howled through the gorges and cañons of the Sierras. It was still snowing with no sign of cessation, and the blizzard blanketed... more...