Juvenile Fiction Books

Chapter I: The House by the Bridge. "Holy Church has never forbidden it," said John Clarke, with a very intent look upon his thoughtful, scholar's face. A young man who stood with his elbow on the mantelshelf, his eye fixed eagerly on the speaker's face, here broke in with a quick impetuosity of manner, which seemed in keeping with his restless, mobile features, his flashing dark... more...

AT THE CLEVERTONTHE great hotel on the crest of the hill was bathed in sunlight that poured from a rift in the clouds, as if sent for the sole purpose of showing the grand portico, the broad piazza, and the flag that floated gracefully on the summer breeze.Its many windows seemed to be looking across the valley to opposite mountain peaks, and one could easily imagine that its wide, open doorway, smiled... more...

CHAPTER I MARY ENTERS WARWICK HALL The bus running between Warwick Hall Station and Warwick Hall school drew up at the door of the great castle-like building with as grand a flourish as if it carried the entire Senior class, and deposited one lone passenger upon the steps. As it was several days before the opening of the Fall term, no pupils were expected so soon, and but few of the teachers had... more...

A party of travellers were wending their way across a wide-spreading prairie in the north-west territory of America. As far as the eye could reach, the ground was covered with waving tufts of dark-green grass, interspersed with flowers of varied hue, among which could be distinguished the yellow marigold and lilac bergamot, with bluebells, harebells, and asters, innumerable; while here and there... more...

PROLOGUE. [To be skipped by children if they like.] It was a very silent old house. Outside, the front windows stared gravely down upon the tidy drive with its rhododendron shrubberies, the well-kept lawn with the triangular beds, and the belt of gloomy fir trees edging the high brick wall that ran along the public road. The windows were always draped and curtained, and opened one foot at the top with... more...

Their Boy. “Well, why not be a soldier?” Philip Hexton shook his head. “No, father. There’s something very brave in a soldier’s career; but I should like to save life, not destroy it.” “You would save life in times of trouble; fight for your country, and that sort of thing.” “No, father; I shall not be a soldier.” “A sailor, then?” “I have not sufficient love of adventure,... more...

Merry Stories And Funny PicturesWhen the children have been good,That is, be it understood,Good at meal-times, good at play,Good all night and good all day—They shall have the pretty thingsMerry Christmas always brings. Naughty, romping girls and boysTear their clothes and make a noise,Spoil their pinafores and frocks,And deserve no Christmas-box.Such as these shall never lookAt this pretty... more...

CHAPTER THE FIRST. hree birds of very favourable repute in these regions met together one evening—a Thrush, a Lark, and a Nightingale. And all for what purpose, think you? It was a queer one—to hold a solemn conference about a Dewdrop! Yes, it must be allowed it was an original thought which brought these three feathered friends thus into council; and a pretty talk to be sure they had about it.... more...

CHAPTER I A SPARK PUTS THREE BOYS AND A BOAT ON THE JUMP “Ho, ho, ho—hum!” grumbled Hank Butts, vainly trying to stifle a prodigious yawn. “This may be what Mr. Seaton calls a vacation on full pay, but I’d rather work.” “It is fearfully dull, loafing around, in this fashion, on a lonely island, yet in plain sight of the sea that we long to rove over,” nodded Captain Tom Halstead of the... more...

This work, labourious as it may appear, has been to me a labour of love, an unfailing source of solace and satisfaction. During my long years of official banishment to the luxuriant and deadly deserts of Western Africa, and to the dull and dreary half clearings of South America, it proved itself a charm, a talisman against ennui and despondency. Impossible even to open the pages without a vision... more...