Juvenile Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. A GREAT MISFORTUNE. It was an intensely hot July day—not a cloud appeared in the high blue vault of the sky; the trees, the flowers, the grasses, were all motionless, for not even the gentlest zephyr of a breeze was abroad; the whole world seemed lapped in a sort of drowsy, hot, languorous slumber. Even the flowers bowed their heads a little weariedly, and the birds after a time ceased... more...

Preface. So extraordinary are the adventures of my hero, Master Richard Cheveley, son of the Reverend John Cheveley, vicar of the parish of S—, in the county of D—, that it is possible some of my readers may be inclined to consider them incredible, but that they are thoroughly probable the following paragraph which appeared in the evening edition of the Standard early in the month of November,... more...

TO CHILDREN. The Author of this book is also the Editor of the Blue, Red, Greenland Yellow Fairy Books. He has always felt rather an impostor, because so many children seem to think that he made up these books out of his own head. Now he only picked up a great many old fairy tales, told in French, German, Greek, Chinese, Red Indian, Russian, and other languages, and had them translated and printed,... more...

THE STRANGE TRACKS There was great excitement in the neighborhood of Farmer Green's house. Rusty Wren had found some strange tracks. And nobody knew whose they were. Now, when they were puzzled like that the field- and forest-folk usually went straight to Mr. Crow for advice. But this time it happened that the old gentleman had gone on an excursion to the further side of Blue Mountain, where... more...

CHAPTER I A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR "Boys! B-o-y-s!" There was no response to the imperative summons. Professor Zepplin sat up in his cot, listening intently. Something had awakened him suddenly, but just what he was unable to decide. "Be quiet over there, young men," he admonished, adding in a lower tone, "I'm sure I heard some one moving about." The camp of the Pony Rider Boys... more...

Berryman Livingstone was a successful man, a very successful man, and as he sat in his cushioned chair in his inner private office (in the best office-building in the city) on a particularly snowy evening in December, he looked it every inch. It spoke in every line of his clean-cut, self-contained face, with its straight, thin nose, closely drawn mouth, strong chin and clear gray eyes; in every... more...

CHAPTER I. WARWICK HALL Warwick Hall looked more like an old English castle than a modern boarding-school for girls. Gazing at its high towers and massive portal, one almost expected to see some velvet-clad page or lady-in-waiting come down the many flights of marble steps leading between stately terraces to the river. Even a knight with a gerfalcon on his wrist would not have seemed out of place, and... more...

CHAPTER I: Whitefoot Spends A Happy Winter In all his short life Whitefoot the Wood Mouse never had spent such a happy winter. Whitefoot is one of those wise little people who never allow unpleasant things of the past to spoil their present happiness, and who never borrow trouble from the future. Whitefoot believes in getting the most from the present. The things which are past are past, and that is... more...

CHAPTER I. The backwoods settlement--Crusoe's parentage, and earlyhistory--The agonizing pains and sorrows of his puppyhood,and other interesting matters. The dog Crusoe was once a pup. Now do not,courteous reader, toss your head contemptuously,and exclaim, "Of course he was; I could have told you that." You know very well that you have often seen aman above six feet high, broad and... more...

CHAPTER I. OFF FOR EUROPE. "Off———" "At last!" "Hurrah!" The tramp steamer "Eagle" swung out from the pier and was fairly started en her journey from New York to Liverpool. On the deck of the steamer stood a group of five persons, three of whom had given utterance to the exclamations recorded above. On the pier swarmed a group of Yale students, waving hands, hats,... more...