Juvenile Fiction Books

INTRODUCTORY With the possible exception of the deer family, the bear is the most widely disseminated big game, known to hunters. He makes his home within the Arctic Circle, often living upon the great ice-floe, or dwells within a tropical jungle, and both climates are agreeable to him, while longitudinally he has girdled the world. Of course bruin varies much, according to the climate in which he... more...

Preface. In writing this book, my aim has been to give a true picture in outline of the Slave Trade as it exists at the present time on the east coast of Africa. In order to do this I have selected from the most trustworthy sources what I believe to be the most telling points of “the trade,” and have woven these together into a tale, the warp of which is composed of thick cords of fact; the woof of... more...

Two Good Homes. “It’s as black as ink,” said Dennis, lifting one of the kittens out of its warm bed in the hay; “there’s not a single white hair upon it.” “Madam’s never had a quite black one before, has she?” said his sister Maisie, who knelt beside him, before the cat and her family. It was a snug and cosy home Madam had chosen for her children, in a dark corner of the hayloft,... more...

CHAPTER I: Blacky The Crow Makes A Discovery Blacky the Crow is always watching for things not intended for his sharp eyes. The result is that he gets into no end of trouble which he could avoid. In this respect he is just like his cousin, Sammy Jay. Between them they see a great deal with which they have no business and which it would be better for them not to see. Now Blacky the Crow finds it no easy... more...

THE PLAY COMMENCES. Blown to bits; bits so inconceivably, so ineffably, so "microscopically" small that—but let us not anticipate. About the darkest hour of a very dark night, in the year 1883, a large brig lay becalmed on the Indian Ocean, not far from that region of the Eastern world which is associated in some minds with spices, volcanoes, coffee, and piratical junks, namely, the Malay... more...

The Play Commences. Blown to bits; bits so inconceivably, so ineffably, so “microscopically” small that—but let us not anticipate. About the darkest hour of a very dark night, in the year 1883, a large brig lay becalmed on the Indian Ocean, not far from that region of the Eastern world which is associated in some minds with spices, volcanoes, coffee, and piratical junks, namely, the Malay... more...

THE WAIL OF THE WE ARE SEVENS Blue Bonnet raised the blind of the car window, which had been drawn all the afternoon to shut out the blazing sun, and took a view of the flying landscape. Then she consulted the tiny watch at her wrist and sat up with a start. "Grandmother!" she said excitedly, "we'll soon be in Woodford; that is, in just an hour. We're on time, you know.... more...

THE WANDERER Blue Bonnet put her head out of the car window for the hundredth time that hour, and drew it back with a sigh of utter exasperation. "Uncle Cliff," she declared impatiently, "if The Wanderer doesn't move a little faster I'll simply have to get out and push!" "Better blame the engine, Honey," said Uncle Cliff in his slow, soothing way. "The Wanderer is... more...

The False Step. There is a dividing ridge in the great northern wilderness of America, whereon lies a lakelet of not more than twenty yards in diameter. It is of crystal clearness and profound depth, and on the still evenings of the Indian summer its surface forms a perfect mirror, which might serve as a toilet-glass for a Redskin princess. We have stood by the side of that lakelet and failed to note... more...

his is such a capital night for a story, papa," said Robert Lincoln to his father, who had laid away his newspaper and seemed inclined to take an extra forty winks. "Indeed, Robert," said Mr. Lincoln, smiling, "I wonder if you would ever tire of hearing stories. I don't think I have one left; you and Lily have managed to exhaust my store." "O papa, please don't say... more...