Juvenile Fiction Books

THE ROAD TO ROME; OR, THESILLY STOWAWAYWeBastables have only two uncles, and neither of them, are our own natural-born relatives. One is a great-uncle, and the other is the uncle from his birth of Albert, who used to live next door to us in the Lewisham Road. When we first got to know him (it was over some baked potatoes, and is quite another story) we called him Albert-next-door's-Uncle, and then... more...

I "Hope is very cheap. There's always plenty of it about." "Fortunately for poor men. Good morning." With this mild retort and civil salutation John Henry Overholt rose and went towards the door, quite forgetting to shake hands with Mr. Burnside, though the latter made a motion to do so. Mr. Burnside always gave his hand in a friendly way, even when he had flatly refused to do what... more...

A HUNDRED FABLES OF The Grasshopper and the Ant.A grasshopper gaySang the summer away,And found herself poorBy the winter's first roar.Of meat or of bread,Not a morsel she had!So a-begging she went,To her neighbour the ant,For the loan of some wheat,Which would serve her to eat,Till the season came round."I will pay you," she saith,"On an animal's faith,Double weight in the... more...

THE SCHOOL. The house was long and low and rambling. In parts at least it must have been quite a hundred years old, and even the modern portion was not built according to the ideas of the present day, for in 1870 people were not so aesthetic as they are now, and the lines of beauty and grace were not considered all essential to happiness. So even the new part of the house had square rooms destitute of... more...

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 FIRST    "I never saw an eye so bright,     And yet so soft as hers;   It sometimes swam in liquid light,     And sometimes swam in tears;   It seemed a beauty set apart     For softness and for sighs."                                 —MRS. WELBY. The school-room at Roselands was a very pleasant apartment; the ceiling, it is... more...

CHAPTER I. "Give me a flounder, Johnny?" said a little girl of eleven, dressed in coarse and ragged garments, as she stooped down and looked into the basket of the dirty young fisherman, who sat with his legs hanging over the edge of the pier. "I'll bet I won't," replied Johnny, gruffly, as he drew the basket out of the reach of the supplicant. "You needn't come round... more...

CHAPTER I. THE LITTLE COLOUR GRINDER T was a bright morning of early April, many hundred years ago; and through all the fields and meadows of Normandy the violets and cuckoo-buds were just beginning to peep through the tender green of the young grass. The rows of tall poplar-trees that everywhere, instead of fences, served to mark off the farms of the country folk, waved in thespring wind like great,... more...

Introduction Many years have passed by since, delivering the Inaugural Lecture of the Irish Literary Society in London, I advocated as one of its chief aims the recasting into modern form and in literary English of the old Irish legends, preserving the atmosphere of the original tales as much as possible, but clearing them from repetitions, redundant expressions, idioms interesting in Irish but... more...

CHAPTER I. Bébée sprang out of bed at daybreak. She was sixteen. It seemed a very wonderful thing to be as much as that—sixteen—a woman quite. A cock was crowing under her lattice. He said how old you are!—how old you are! every time that he sounded his clarion. She opened the lattice and wished him good day, with a laugh. It was so pleasant to be woke by him, and to think that no one in all... more...