Juvenile Fiction Books

THE Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him,... more...

CHAPTER I TROUBLE "Daddy is late; isn't he, Ruth?" asked Alice DeVere of her sister, as she looked up from her sewing. "A little," answered the girl addressed, a tall, fair maid, with deep blue eyes, in the depths of which hidden meaning seemed to lie, awaiting discovery by someone. "A little!" exclaimed Alice, who was rather plump, and whose dark brown hair and eyes were... more...

CHAPTER I A GROUNDLESS JEALOUSY "I told you we were going to be happy here, didn't I, Zara?" The speaker was Dolly Ransom, a black-haired, mischievous Wood Gatherer of the Camp Fire Girls, a member of the Manasquan Camp Fire, the Guardian of which was Miss Eleanor Mercer, or Wanaka, as she was known in the ceremonial camp fires that were held each month. The girls were staying with her at... more...

CHAPTER I THE RUNAWAY CAR "The boys will be here in five minutes!" cried Mollie Billette, bursting in upon her friend, dark hair flying and eyes alight. "You'd better get on your hat." "What boys and why the hat?" returned Grace Ford who, pretty and graceful, as always, was provokingly calm. "I'll answer any and everything if you will only get ready. Oh, have you... more...

TOMMY TROT’S VISIT TO SANTA CLAUS I The little boy whose story is told here lived in the beautiful country of “Once upon a Time.” His name, as I heard it, was Tommy Trot; but I think that, maybe, this was only a nick-name. When he was about your age, he had, on Christmas Eve, the wonderful adventure of seeing Santa Claus in his own country, where he lives and makes all the beautiful things that... more...

CHAPTER I ANDY McNEAL It was in the time when the king's men had things pretty much their own way, and mystery and plot held full sway, that there lived, in a little house near McGown Pass on the upper end of Manhattan Island, a widow and her lame son. She was a tall, gaunt woman of Scotch ancestry, but loyal to the land that had given her a second home. She was not a woman of many opinions, but... more...

The Great Idea The village schoolroom was packed as full as it would hold, and the air was so thick that, as Sylvia said, it could almost be scooped up with a spoon. The lecturer was stout and perspiring freely, but he meant to do his duty at all costs, and he rose to the occasion with tremendous vigour, declaiming in really fine style: "It is a poor man's paradise, and there is no place on... more...

A Reversible Santa Claus Mr. William B. Aikins, alias "Softy" Hubbard, alias Billy The Hopper, paused for breath behind a hedge that bordered a quiet lane and peered out into the highway at a roadster whose tail light advertised its presence to his felonious gaze. It was Christmas Eve, and after a day of unseasonable warmth a slow, drizzling rain was whimsically changing to snow. The Hopper was... more...

CHAPTER I "Elmer said we'd take a vote on it!" "Yes, and tonight the next regular meeting of the Hickory Ridge Boy Scout Troop is scheduled to take place, so we'll soon know where we stand." "Thith hath been a pretty tame thummer for the cwowd, all told, don't you think, Lil Artha?" "It certainly has, as sure as your name's Ted Burgoyne. Our camping out... more...

CHAPTER I TO THE FRONT "I know it's utterly foolish and unreasonable," sighed Amy Blackford, laying down the novel she had been reading and looking wistfully out of the window, "but I simply can't help it." "What's the matter?" asked Mollie Billette, raising her eyes reluctantly from a book she was devouring and looking vaguely at Amy's profile. "Did you... more...