Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I A CRY IN THE AIR  "Well, Bob, here we are again. And no word from Jack yet." "That's right, Frank. But the weather has been bad for sending so great a distance for days. When these spring storms come to an end the static will lift and well stand a better chance to hear from him." "Righto, Bob. Then, too, the Hamptons may not have finished their station on time."... more...

FOREWORD On a cold January morning of 1848, James Wilson Marshall picked up two yellow bits of metal, about the size and the shape of split peas, from the tail-race of the sawmill he was building on the South Fork of the American River, some forty-five miles northeast of Sutter's Fort, now Sacramento City. These two yellow pellets proved to be gold; and soon it was discovered that all the region... more...

Chapter First. "Meantime a smiling offspring rises round,And mingles both their graces. By degreesThe human blossom blows, and every day,Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm,The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom."—Thomson's Seasons "Mamma! Papa too!" It was a glad shout of a chorus of young voices as four pairs of little feet came pattering up the avenue... more...

CHAPTER I THE PRIZE DETAIL "The United States Government doesn't appear very anxious to claim its property, does it, sir?" asked Captain Jack Benson. The speaker was a boy of sixteen, attired in a uniform much after the pattern commonly worn by yacht captains. The insignia of naval rank were conspicuously absent. "Now, that I've had the good luck to sell the 'Pollard' to... more...

CHAPTER I FULL SPEED FOR FOUR CORNERS Four straight country roads running at right angles. You cannot see where they begin because they have their beginning “over the hills and far away,” but you can see where they end at “Four Corners,” the hub of that universe, for there stand the general store, which is also the postoffice, the “tavern,” as it is called in that part of the world, the... more...

CHAPTER I THE WOLF PATROL ELECTS A baseball rose gracefully in the air, carried on a way, and dropped. Three scouts back from a hike halted under the maple tree that bordered the village field, and unslung their haversacks. "Gee!" cried Fred Ritter. "Did you see Ted Carter make that catch?" "And did you see Tim Lally get that one?" demanded Wally Woods. Andy Ford grinned.... more...

Chapter One. The First Room. “I take them for rheumatic gout,” said a slight, dark-haired woman to her neighbour, as she leant back in a low lounging-chair, and sipped some water an attendant had just brought her. “You would not suppose I suffered from such a complaint, would you?”—and she held up a small arched foot, with a scarcely perceptible swelling in the larger joint. She laughed... more...

CHAPTER I A STRANGE RESCUE "Can't I have a ride now, Russ? You said it would be my turn after Mun Bun." "Yes, but, Margy, I haven't had enough ride yet!" declared Mun Bun. "But when can I get in and have my ride?" The three little children, two girls and a boy, stood in front of their older brother, Russ, watching him tying an old roller skate on the end of a board.... more...

The Visitor from the Cellar. The whole house in London was dull and gloomy, its lofty rooms and staircases were filled with a sort of misty twilight all day, and the sun very seldom looked in at its windows. Ruth Lorimer thought, however, that the very dullest room of all was the nursery, in which she had to pass so much of her time. It was so high up that the people and carts and horses in the street... more...

CHAPTER I. Melody, My Dear Child:I   SIT down to write my story for you, the life-story of old Rosin the Beau, your friend and true lover. Some day, not far distant now, my fiddle and I shall be laid away, in the quiet spot you know and love; and then (for you will miss me, Melody, well I know that!) this writing will be read to you, and you will hear my voice still, and will learn to know me better... more...