Juvenile Fiction Books

Chapter XII. The Prince and his deliverer. As soon as Miles Hendon and the little prince were clear of the mob, they struck down through back lanes and alleys toward the river.  Their way was unobstructed until they approached London Bridge; then they ploughed into the multitude again, Hendon keeping a fast grip upon the Prince's—no, the King's—wrist.  The tremendous news was already... more...

CHAPTER I. During the noon intermission of a sunny April day a small group of boys assembled near the steps of Oakdale Academy to talk baseball; for the opening of the season was at hand, and the germ of the game had already begun to make itself felt in their blood. Roger Eliot, the grave, reliable, steady-headed captain of the nine, who had scored such a pronounced success as captain of the eleven the... more...

CHAPTER I THE HUNTER "Dick, why do you study Arabic so closely?" "To understand Arabic." "And further?" Dick Compton closed his book and placed it carefully in a leather case. "It is a pity you were born curious, Venning, otherwise you would have made an excellent companion for a studious man. 'Why do I wish to understand Arabic?' Why do you stand on one leg... more...

CHAPTER I. Little Dot had lost her way in the bush. She knew it, and was very frightened. She was too frightened in fact to cry, but stood in the middle of a little dry, bare space, looking around her at the scraggy growths of prickly shrubs that had torn her little dress to rags, scratched her bare legs and feet till they bled, and pricked her hands and arms as she had pushed madly through the bushes,... more...

CHAPTER I "Here we go!" "We're off!" "Look quick, or we'll be out of your sight." The long, low motor-boat glided smoothly out from the dock to which it had been made fast. Behind it the water boiled as if it had been stirred by some invisible furnace. The graceful lines of the boat, its manifest power and speed, formed a fitting complement to the bright sunshine and... more...

CHAPTER I. A STORM ON LAKE ERIE. "Dick, do you notice how the wind is freshening?" "Yes, Sam, I've been watching it for ten minutes. I think we are in for a storm." "Exactly my idea, and I shouldn't be surprised if it proved a heavy one, too. How far are we from shore?" "Not over three miles, to my reckoning." "Perhaps we had better turn back," and Sam... more...

CHAPTER I THE CROSS-COUNTRY RUNNERS "I see you're limping again, Fred." "That's right, Bristles. I my toe at the very start of this cross-country run, and that lost me all chance of coming in ahead. That's why I fell back, and have been loafing for a stretch." "And let me catch up with you; eh? Well, I reckon long-legged Colon will have a cinch in this race,... more...

A BOY SCOUT CAMP On a sunny September afternoon two shelter tents stood in a mountain valley, on the south bank of a creek which, miles and miles below, becomes the Sweetwater river. Above the flap of each tent lifted a yellow pennant, in the center of which a blue beaver stood in an alert and listening attitude, his flat tail outstretched. A campfire blazed in front of the two tents, and some distance... more...

FALSE FRIENDS. "Thorns and snares are in the way of the froward."—PROV. xxii. 5. Reflection. Page 25. "Philip, your conduct has distressed me exceedingly," said Lady Grange, laying her hand on the arm of her son, as they entered together the elegant apartment which had been fitted up as her boudoir. "You could not but know my feelings towards those two men—I will not call them... more...

The Diver’s Rock. Boom! with a noise like thunder. Plash! directly after; but the sounds those two words express, multiplied and squared if you like, till the effect upon the senses is, on the first hearing, one of dread mingled with awe at the mightiness of the power of the sea. For this is not “how the waters come down at Lodore,” but how they come in at Carn Du, a little fishing town on the... more...