Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I MYSELF I am Bawn Devereux, and I have lived as long as I remember at Aghadoe Abbey with my grandfather and grandmother, the Lord and Lady St. Leger. At one time we were a family of five. There was my Uncle Luke, and there was my cousin Theobald. Theobald was my boy cousin, and we played together up and down the long corridors in winter, and in the darkness of the underground passage, in... more...

CHAPTER I THE SAME OLD TAVIA "She very probably will miss her train, we will miss her at the station, she will take a ride up with old Bill Mason, stay talking to him until dinner is too cold to wait any longer; then—then—well, she may steal in through a window and give you a midnight scare, just for a joke. That's my recollection of Miss Tavia." "Nat, you're too mean—Tavia... more...

Chapter One. On the banks of the river Saal, in Merseburg, forming part of Saxony, at the time of which we speak, governed by the aged and excellent Elector Frederick, stood the Castle of Lindburg. It was one of those feudal piles of the Middle Ages, impregnable to the engines of ancient warfare, but which were destined to crumble before the iron shots with which cannon assailed them, as the system... more...

Chapter XVIII. The Prince with the tramps. The troop of vagabonds turned out at early dawn, and set forward on their march.  There was a lowering sky overhead, sloppy ground under foot, and a winter chill in the air.  All gaiety was gone from the company; some were sullen and silent, some were irritable and petulant, none were gentle-humoured, all were thirsty. The Ruffler put 'Jack' in... more...

The Backwoods Settlement—Crusoe’s Parentage and Early History—The agonising pains and sorrows of his puppyhood, and other interesting matters. The dog Crusoe was once a pup. Now do not, courteous reader, toss your head contemptuously, and exclaim, “Of course he was; I could have told you that.” You know very well that you have often seen a man above six feet high, broad and powerful as a... more...

CHAPTER I BREWSTER'S CENTRE Maybe you think just because scouts go camping in the summer time, and take hikes and all that, that there's nothing to do in the winter. But I'm always going to stick up for winter, that's one sure thing. Anyway, this story isn't exactly a winter story, it's a kind of a fall story—lightweight. Maybe after this I'll write a heavyweight... more...

CHAPTER I. It was a cold, bleak and freezing day, was that second day of the year 1764, in the good town of Bennington. The first day of the year had been celebrated in a devout fashion by nearly all the inhabitants of the district. Truly, some stayed away from the meeting-house, and especially was the absence of one family noticed. "It seems to me kind of strange and creepy-like that those Allen... more...

CHAPTER I "DO YOU SPEAK GERMAN?" "Hey, there, Mister!" called out Jabez Holt, from one of the two office windows in the little hotel at Dunhaven. As there was only one other man in the office, that other man guessed that he might be the one addressed. With a slight German accent the stranger, who was well-dressed, and looked like a prosperous as well as an educated man, turned and... more...

THE HOME IN ALSACE In the southwestern corner of the domains of Kaiser Bill, in a fair district to which he has no more right than a highwayman has to his victim's wallet, there is a quaint old house built of gray stone and covered with a clinging vine. In the good old days when Alsace was a part of France the old house stood there and was the scene of joy and plenty. In these evil days when... more...

"Of all the joys that brighten suffering earth,What joy is welcom'd like a new-born child."—MRS. NORTON. A merry scene in the nursery at Viamede, where the little Travillas are waiting for their morning half hour with "dear mamma." Mammy coming in smiling and mysterious, her white apron thrown over something held carefully in her arms, bids the children guess what it is. "A... more...