Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I Sun and shower—sun and shower—Now rough, now smooth, is the winding way;Thorn and flower—thorn and flower—Which will you gather? Who can say?Wayward hearts, there's a world for your winning,Sorrow and laughter, love or woe:Who can tell in the day's beginningThe paths that your wandering feet shall go? —Mary Macleod. The village choir were practicing in the church—their... more...

LL the Fernald family go back to the old home for Christmas, now, every year. Last Christmas was the third on which Oliver and Edson, Ralph and Guy, Carolyn and Nan, were all at the familiar fireside, as they used to be in the days before they were married. The wives and husbands and children go too—when other family claims can be compromised with—and no one of them, down to Carolyn’s youngest... more...

CHAPTER I SPIES IN THE BOY SCOUT CAMP Gates, the United States Secret Service man, closed the door gently and remained standing just inside the room, his head bent forward in a listening attitude. Ned Nestor and Jimmie McGraw, Boy Scouts of the Wolf Patrol, New York City, who had been standing by a window, looking out on a crowded San Francisco street, previous to the sudden appearance of the Secret... more...

Chapter One. Cats. I have undertaken, my young friends, to give you a number of anecdotes, which will, I think, prove that animals possess not only instinct, which guides them in obtaining food, and enables them to enjoy their existence according to their several natures, but also that many of them are capable of exercising a kind of reason, which comes into play under circumstances to which they are... more...

CHAPTER I THE GRECIANS AND THE TROJANS There were three boys in the same class in the polytechnic school in the mountainous Odenwald country, in Hesse Darmstadt, who were such great friends and inseparable companions that the other pupils named them "the three-leaved clover." They were near of an age—about eleven—and near of a size; and their names were Fritz, Paul and Franz. Fritz was an... more...

A FAMOUS BITER That black rascal, Mr. Crow, was not the oldest dweller in Pleasant Valley. There was another elderly gentleman who had spent more summers—and a great many more winters—under the shadow of Blue Mountain than he. All the wild folk knew this person by the name of Timothy Turtle. And if they didn't see him so often as Mr. Crow it was because he spent much of his time on the muddy... more...

A LETTER. School was over, and the holidays were beginning once more, summer holidays, with all their promise of pleasure for dwellers in the country. The scent of sweet new hay was borne on the afternoon breeze, and the broad sunlight lay on fields of waving corn which would soon be ready for the sickle, and on green meadows from which the hay was being carried. Ruth Arnold slowly wended her way... more...

CHAPTER I.   think I'll get out here, young man." "All right, missus." The old carrier stopped his jolting cart—an easy thing to do, for the wearied horse was glad of the chance of halting—and the passenger leisurely descended. With her descended also a bulging umbrella and numerous packages. "Good night, young man!" she exclaimed. She thought this a very polite way of... more...

Lost. “Have you seen anything of our Sammul?” These words were addressed in a very excited voice to a tall rough-looking collier, who, with Davy-lamp in hand, was dressed ready for the night-shift in the Bank Pit of the Langhurst Colliery. Langhurst was a populous village in the south of Lancashire. The speaker was a woman, the regularity of whose features showed that she had once been... more...

A Castaway Crew. A boat upon the open sea—no land in sight! It is an open boat, the size and form showing it to be the pinnace of a merchant-ship. It is a tropical sea, with a fiery sun overhead, slowly coursing through a sky of brilliant azure. The boat has neither sail nor mast. There are oars, but no one is using them. They lie athwart the tholes, their blades dipping in the water, with no hand... more...