Juvenile Fiction Books

The Alarm. Whitewing was a Red Indian of the North American prairies. Though not a chief of the highest standing, he was a very great man in the estimation of his tribe, for, besides being possessed of qualities which are highly esteemed among all savages—such as courage, strength, agility, and the like—he was a deep thinker, and held speculative views in regard to the Great Manitou (God), as well... more...

Chapter I. "What I want, you know," said Mr. Tulliver of Dorlcote Mill—"what I want is to give Tom a good eddication. That was what I was thinking of when I gave notice for him to leave th' academy at Lady Day. I meant to put him to a downright good school at Midsummer. "The two years at th' academy 'ud ha' done well enough," the miller went on, "if... more...

CHAPTER I "Santa Claus brought them," said Sunny Boy. He was lying flat on the floor, trying to reach under the bookcase where his marble had rolled. The marble was a cannon ball and Sunny Boy had been showing Nelson Baker, the boy who lived next door, how to knock over lead soldiers. Nelson Baker picked up the lead general and examined him carefully. "They're nicer soldiers than I had... more...

CHAPTER I A GREAT SURPRISE FOR THE PLUMMERS Mamma Plummer read a letter at the dinner-table before she touched her soup. She had been having visitors and had not had time to look at it before. And she was always in a hurry to hear from Aunt Kate. Aunt Kate! All seven of the young Plummers pricked up their ears. Aunt Kate was “the right kind,” as Tom Plummer said. She remembered all the young... more...

In the West Countree. “Derry down, derry down, derry down!” A cheery voice rolling out the chorus of an old west-country ditty. Then there was a run of a few yards, a sudden stoppage, and a round, red missile was thrown with considerable force after a blackcock, which rose on whirring wings from among the heather, his violet-black plumage glistening in the autumn sun, as he skimmed over the moor,... more...

THE ROAD TO ROME; OR, THESILLY STOWAWAYWeBastables have only two uncles, and neither of them, are our own natural-born relatives. One is a great-uncle, and the other is the uncle from his birth of Albert, who used to live next door to us in the Lewisham Road. When we first got to know him (it was over some baked potatoes, and is quite another story) we called him Albert-next-door's-Uncle, and then... more...

INTRODUCTIONMy Dear Boys:This story is complete in itself, but forms the sixth volume in a line issued under the general title of "Putnam Hall Series." As mentioned several times, this line was started because many young folks wanted to know what happened at Putnam Hall Military School previous to the arrival at that institution of the Rover boys, as already related in my "Rover Boys... more...

CHAPTER I WHERE, OH, WHERE? Field day was past and gone and the senior class of Central High, Centerport’s largest and most popular school, was thinking of little but white dresses, bouquets, and blue-ribboned diplomas. The group of juniors, however, who had made the school’s athletic record for the year in the Girls’ Branch Athletic League, had other matters to discuss—and in their opinion... more...

CHAPTER I A DELIGHTFUL MYSTERY "I think we are ready to start, girls." Miss Elting folded the road map that she had been studying and placed it in a pocket of her long dust coat. There was a half-smile on her face, a merry twinkle in her eyes. "Which way do I drive?" questioned Jane McCarthy. "Straight ahead out of the village," answered Miss Elting, the guardian of the party of... more...

Never stop upon your way,Just to fool around and play.Learn to quickly go to school;Never, never break this rule. But, oh dear me. One morning when Little Jack Rabbit met the Squirrel Brothers, Featherhead, the naughty gray squirrel, asked him to stop and play a game of marbles. “Where are your marbles?” asked the little rabbit. “Here they are,” answered Featherhead, taking some red and yellow... more...