Juvenile Fiction Books

Chapter One. My father, Richard Truscott, was boatswain of the Royal George, one of the finest ships in the navy. I lived with mother and several brothers and sisters at Gosport. Father one day said to me, “Ben, you shall come with me, and we’ll make a sailor of you. Maybe you’ll some day walk the quarter-deck as an officer.” I did not want to go to sea, and I did not care about being an... more...

Chapter I. A Multitude of Good Reasons.   In accordance with many most excellent precedents, I might begin by claiming the sympathy due to an orphan alone in the world. I might even summon my unguided childhood and the absence of parental training to excuse my faults and extenuate my indiscretions. But the sympathy which I should thus gain would be achieved, I fear, by something very like false... more...

I It was Christmas Eve and a Saturday night when Mrs. Larrabee, the Beulah minister's wife, opened the door of the study where her husband was deep in the revision of his next day's sermon, and thrust in her comely head framed in a knitted rigolette. "Luther, I'm going to run down to Letty's. We think the twins are going to have measles; it's the only thing they... more...

THE PROJECT "I fear you are undertaking too much, Neal. When a fellow lacks two years of his majority—" "You forget that I have been my own master more than a year. Father gave me my time before he died, and that in the presence of Governor Wentworth himself." "Why before him rather than 'Squire White?" "I don't know. My good friend Andrew McCleary attended to... more...

CHAPTER I. A WARNING In the valley of the Rio Pecos, years ago, an attempt at founding a settlement was made by a number of hardy and daring New Englanders, whose leader was a sort of Don Quixote, who traveled hundreds of miles, passing by the richest land, the most balmy climate, where all were protected by the strong arm of law, for the sake of locating where the soil was only moderate, the climate... more...

Chapter I. The Seeking of Sword Helmbiter. Men call me "King Alfred's Viking," and I think that I may be proud of that name; for surely to be trusted by such a king is honour enough for any man, whether freeman or thrall, noble or churl. Maybe I had rather be called by that name than by that which was mine when I came to England, though it was a good title enough that men gave me, if it... more...

CHUNKY'S NEW IDEA Three of the ponies, they found, had been knocked down and so severely shocked that they were only just beginning to regain consciousness. "Why didn't you tell us?" demanded Ned, turning on Stacy savagely. "You wouldn't let me. Maybe next time I've got an idea, you'll stop and listen." Kris Kringle's face wore a broad grin. "Master... more...

CHAPTER I. THE GATHERING.—CHRISTMAS EVE.—CONSEQUENCES.—HOW DO YOU LIKE IT? Not many miles from Philadelphia, in a beautifully wooded and hilly country, may be seen a large rambling mansion, whose substantial walls show that it was built at a time when more attention was paid to the durability of dwellings than at present. It is, indeed, quite an ancient house for this part of the world, having... more...

HER TWELFTH BIRTHDAY "Oh, Tarbaby! Everybody has forgotten that it is my birthday! Even Papa Jack has gone off to town without saying a word about it, and he nevah did such a thing befo' in all his life!" As she spoke, the Little Colonel put her arm around her pony's neck, and for a moment her fair little head was pressed disconsolately against its velvety black mane. "It... more...

CHAPTER I. A single cloud on a sunny day,When all the rest of heaven is clear,A frown upon the atmosphere,That hath no business to appear,When skies are blue and earth is gay.BYRON. "Come, dear grandpa! the old mare and the wagon are at the gate all ready." "Well, dear! responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I haven't got my hat yet." "O, I'll get... more...