Juvenile Fiction Books

THE RUNT He was the smallest of seven children. At first his mother thought she would call him "Runty." But she soon changed her mind about that; for she discovered that even if he was the runt of the family, he had the loudest grunt of all. So the good lady made haste to slip a G in front of the name "Runty." "There!" she exclaimed. "'Grunty' is a name that you... more...

CHAPTER I. THE ANGLO-SAXON HALL. It was the evening of Thursday, the fifth of October, in year of grace one thousand and sixty and six. The setting sun was slowly sinking towards a dense bank of clouds, but as yet he gladdened the woods and hills around the old hall of Aescendune with his departing light. The watchman on the tower gazed upon a fair scene outspread before him; at his feet rolled the... more...

CHAPTER I. he great cathedral bell was striking twelve. Slowly and solemnly it struck, and as it did so people looked at their watches and altered their clocks, for every one in the great city kept time by that grave old bell. Every one liked to hear it strike; but the school children liked it best of all, for they knew that with the last stroke of twelve lessons would be over, and they would be able... more...

"WHAT'S TRINGANU?" "I don't care what your orders are. Cap'n Hollinger sent for me, and I'm going aboard or I'll know the reason why!" "Well, ain't you just heard the reason why, son? He ain't here, and orders is orders. There ain't no one comin' aboard the Seamew, that's all. Nothin' was said about any Mart Judson, kid."... more...

CHAPTER I BOY SCOUTS IN A STRANGE LAND "Fine country, this—to get out of!" "What's the difficulty, kid?" Jimmie McGraw, the first speaker, turned back to the interior of the apartment in which he stood with a look of intense disgust on freckled face. "Oh, nothin' much," he replied, wrinkling his nose comically, "only Broadway an' the Bowery are too far away... more...

CAIN'S BRAND I.—ON THE MOOR. CAIN'S BRAND! that is no fact of the far past, no legend of the Middle Ages, for are there not Cains among us; white-faced, haggard-featured Cains to the last? Men who began with a little injury, and did not dream that their gripe would close in deadly persecution? Cains who slew the spirit, and through the spirit murdered the body? Cains unintentionally, whom... more...

Merry Stories And Funny PicturesWhen the children have been good,That is, be it understood,Good at meal-times, good at play,Good all night and good all day—They shall have the pretty thingsMerry Christmas always brings. Naughty, romping girls and boysTear their clothes and make a noise,Spoil their pinafores and frocks,And deserve no Christmas-box.Such as these shall never lookAt this pretty... more...

The maple-bordered street was as still as a country Sunday; so quiet that there seemed an echo to my footsteps. It was four o'clock in the morning; clear October moonlight misted through the thinning foliage to the shadowy sidewalk and lay like a transparent silver fog upon the house of my admiration, as I strode along, returning from my first night's work on the "Wainwright Morning... more...

CHAPTER I THE FINGER OF SUSPICION "Hello! there, Bristles!" "Hello! yourself, Fred Fenton!" "Why, what ails you this fine summer morning, Bristles? You don't look as jolly as you might." "Well, I was only waiting to see if you cared to speak to me, Fred." "Why in the wide world shouldn't I, when you're one of my chums, Bristles Carpenter?" Andy... more...

BLACK GILES THE POACHER: CONTAINING SOME ACCOUNT OF A FAMILYWHO HAD RATHER LIVE BY THEIR WITS THAN THEIR WORK BY HANNAH MORE.   This story exhibits an accurate picture of that part of the country where the author then resided; and where, by her benevolent zeal, a great reformation was effected among the poor inhabitants of at least twenty parishes, within a circle of thirty miles. Poaching Giles lives... more...