Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. A MILL-HAND'S MANSION. 'It's a dreadful thing to have a father you don't respect,' said Sarah Clay, as she walked into the gilded and beautifully painted drawing-room of the aforesaid father's mansion in Yorkshire. Her mother gave a little, sharp scream, and let fall the book she was holding in her hand. Sarah came forward swiftly, picked it up, and turned it... more...

THE PLANTATION OF REDLAWN. One soft summer evening, when Woodville was crowned with the glory and beauty of the joyous season, three strangers presented themselves before the Grant family, and asked for counsel and assistance. The party consisted of two boys and a girl, and they belonged to that people which the traditions of the past have made the "despised race;" but the girl was whiter and... more...

A Change. “Yes, she must go to school!” repeated Mr Chester. A plaintive sob greeted his words from the neighbourhood of the sofa. For once in her life Mrs Chester’s kindly, good-tempered face had lost its smiles, and was puckered up into lines of distress. She let one fat, be-ringed hand drop to her side and wander restlessly over the satin skirt in search of a pocket. Presently out came a... more...

THE OLD ORGAN. "Home, sweet home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home," played the unmusical notes of a barrel-organ in the top room of a lodging-house in a dreary back street. The words certainly did not seem to apply to that dismal abode; there were not many there who knew much of the sweets of home. It was a very dark, uncomfortable place, and as the lodgers in... more...

CHAPTER I. Philip Ogilvie and his pretty wife were quarrelling, as their custom was, in the drawing-room of the great house in Belgrave Square, but the Angel in the nursery upstairs knew nothing at all about that. She was eight years old, and was, at that critical moment when her father and mother were having words which might embitter all their lives, and perhaps sever them for ever, unconsciously and... more...

CRAZY JANE'S WILD DRIVE "Tommy, what are you doing?" demanded Margery Brown, shaking back a lock of unruly hair from her flushed face. "Conthulting the Oracle," lisped Grace Thompson, more familiarly known among her friends as Tommy. "I should think you would prefer to cool off in the shade after that climb up the hill. I'm perishing. If you knew what sight you are... more...

SILAS TRIPP. Probably the best known citizen of Wyncombe, a small town nestling among the Pennsylvania mountains, was Silas Tripp. He kept the village store, occasionally entertained travelers, having three spare rooms, was town treasurer, and conspicuous in other local offices. The store was in the center of the village, nearly opposite the principal church—there were two—and here it was that the... more...

KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN. It is an advantage for an author to have known many places and different sorts of people, though the most vivid impressions are commonly those received in childhood and youth. Mrs. Wiggin, as she is known in literature, was Kate Douglas Smith; she was born in Philadelphia, and spent her young womanhood in California, but when a very young child she removed to Hollis in the State of... more...

A New Neighbour. The night nurse was dusting the room preparatory to going off duty for the day, and Sylvia was lying on her water-bed watching her movements with gloomy, disapproving eyes. For four long weeks—ever since the crisis had passed and she had come back to consciousness of her surroundings—she had watched the same proceeding morning after morning, until its details had become almost... more...

CHAPTER I GETTING A MOTOR BOAT "If you are going with the boys on the river, Jack, you will have to get a motor-boat. Won't you let me buy you one?" "No, not a bit of it, Dick." "But you want one?" "Certainly, and I am going to have one." "But motor-boats cost money, Jack. Why, mine cost me——-" "Never mind what it cost, Dick. You spend a lot more... more...