Juvenile Fiction Books

Chapter I The Dimplesmithy Grown people have such an exasperating way of saying, "Now, when I was a little girl—" Then, just as you prick up the little white ears of your mind for a story, they finish, loftily, "I did—or didn't do—so-and-so." It is certainly an underhand way of suggesting that you stop doing something pleasant, or begin doing something unpleasant; and you... more...

FRANK ASKS QUESTIONS. September was again at hand, and the cadets at Fardale Military Academy had broken camp, and returned to barracks. For all of past differences, which had been finally settled between them—for all that they had once been bitter enemies, and were by disposition and development as radically opposite as the positive and negative points of a magnetic needle, Frank Merriwell and... more...

The Fur Countries. Boy reader, you have heard of the Hudson’s Bay Company? Ten to one, you have worn a piece of fur, which it has provided for you; if not, your pretty little sister has—in her muff, or her boa, or as a trimming for her winter dress. Would you like to know something of the country whence come these furs?—of the animals whose backs have been stripped to obtain them? As I feel... more...

ROBINSON WITH HIS PARENTS There once lived in the city of New York, a boy by the name of Robinson Crusoe. He had a pleasant home. His father and mother were kind to him and sent him to school. They hoped that he would study hard and grow up to be a wise and useful man, but he loved rather to run idle about the street than to go to school. He was fond of playing along the River Hudson, for he there saw... more...

CHAPTER I A Tornado Towards the end of a long hot day, a shabby mixed train stopped at one of the most wonderful townships in the world, Hergott Springs, the first of the great cattle-trucking depots of Central Australia. It was dark, but a hurricane lantern, swung under a veranda, showed that the men who were waiting for the train were not ordinary men. They were men of the desert. Most of them were... more...

1. UP TO LONDON. 1. In the reign of the famous king Edward the Third, there was a little boy named Dick Whitt-ing-ton, whose father and mother died when he was very young. 2. He knew nothing about them, and he was left, a poor little ragged, dirty fellow, to run about the streets of a small country village. 3. As poor Dick was not old enough to work, he was in a sad state; he got but little for his... more...

CHAPTER I. DON JOHN OF BELFAST, AND FRIENDS. "Why, Don John, how you frightened me!" exclaimed Miss Nellie Patterdale, as she sprang up from her reclining position in a lolling-chair. It was an intensely warm day near the close of June, and the young lady had chosen the coolest and shadiest place she could find on the piazza of her father's elegant mansion in Belfast. She was as pretty as... more...

The succession of mountain ranges, precipitous and rugged, which extend from the shores of the Irish Sea to the boundaries of England, rising tier above tier, and culminating, at different points, in the heights of Snowdon, Cader Idris, and Plinlimmon, gives to wild Wales that romantic beauty for which it is so justly celebrated. That mountain region, too, guarded by the strong arms and undaunted... more...

1 There was a new boy baby at the Lincoln cabin! By cracky! thought Dennis Hanks as he hurried up the path, he was going to like having a boy cousin. They could go swimming together. Maybe they could play Indian. Dennis pushed open the cabin door. "Where is he?" he shouted. "Where is he?" "Sh!" A neighbor, who had come in to help, put her finger to her lips. "The baby is... more...

CHAPTER I. WE MAKE A START. I was sitting on the deck of a Savannah steam-ship, which was lying at a dock in the East River, New York. I was waiting for young Rectus, and had already waited some time; which surprised me, because Rectus was, as a general thing, a very prompt fellow, who seldom kept people waiting. But it was probably impossible for him to regulate his own movements this time, for his... more...