Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. THE DIARY OF FATHER CUTHBERT. All Saints' Day, 1002. Inasmuch as I, Cuthbert, by the long-suffering of the Divine goodness, am prior of the Benedictine house of St. Wilfrid at Aescendune, it seems in some sort my duty, following the example of many worthy brethren, to write some account of the origin and history of the priory over which it has pleased God to make me overseer, and to... more...

Chapter One. “Hi-lo!” The little boy raised his head with a sudden start. “Hilli—hi—ho! What cheer?” The little fellow started to his feet from where he had been sitting upon a sloping bank, and caught at the bars of the gate close by. He said nothing, but stared through the gloom of the autumn evening at the strange man, who now roared out: “What cheer, I says! What cheer?” The little... more...

CHAPTER I. MRS. REDWING'S SPECKLED EGG Old Mother West Wind came down from the Purple Hills in the golden light of the early morning. Over her shoulders was slung a bag—a great big bag—and in the bag were all of Old Mother West Wind's children, the Merry Little Breezes. Old Mother West Wind came down from the Purple Hills to the Green Meadows and as she walked she crooned a song:... more...

CHAPTER I. AN ADVERTISEMENT. On Saturday, the 18th day of June, 1859, the "State Banner and Delphian Oracle," published weekly at Oxbow Village, one of the principal centres in a thriving river-town of New England, contained an advertisement which involved the story of a young life, and stained the emotions of a small community. Such faces of dismay, such shaking of heads, such gatherings at... more...

A Tale of the Staked Plain. “Hats Off!” Within the city of Chihuahua, metropolis of the northern provinces of Mexico—for the most part built of mud—standing in the midst of vast barren plains, o’ertopped by bold porphyritic mountains—plains with a population sparse as their timber—in the old city of Chihuahua lies the first scene of our story. Less than twenty thousand people dwell within... more...

Introduces our Hero and his Kindred. The Giant was an Eskimo of the Arctic regions. At the beginning of his career he was known among his kindred by the name of Skreekinbroot, or the howler, because he howled oftener and more furiously than any infant that had ever been born in Arctic land. His proper name, however, was Chingatok, though his familiars still ventured occasionally to style him... more...

From his place on the floor of the Hemenway Gymnasium Mr. Elbridge G. Mavering looked on at the Class Day gaiety with the advantage which his stature, gave him over most people there. Hundreds of these were pretty girls, in a great variety of charming costumes, such as the eclecticism of modern fashion permits, and all sorts of ingenious compromises between walking dress and ball dress. It struck him... more...

SOMETHING WRONG Bass drums were booming, snare drums were rattling, above them sounded the shrill notes of the bugles. There was the rumble of big-wheeled wagons, now and then an elephant trumpeted or a lion gave a hungry roar. Gay banners fluttered, glistening spears flashed with points of light, gaily attired women and men sat on the backs of swaying, ugly camels, or galloped on mettlesome steeds.... more...

CHAPTER I UNCLE TOBY'S LETTER "What you going to put on your ship, Ted?" "Oh, swords and guns and gunpowder and soldiers. What you going to load on your ship, Jan?" "Oranges and lemons and pineapples," answered the little girl, who was playing with her brother at sailing boats in the brook that ran back of the house. "And maybe I'll have gold and diamonds and... more...

How our heroes enter upon more than one career. On a raw, damp morning in early spring, a rather forlorn group of three youngsters might have been seen on the doorstep of Mountjoy Preparatory School, casting nervous glances up and down the drive, and looking anything but a picture of the life and spirits they really represented. That they were bound on an important journey was very evident. They were... more...