Juvenile Fiction
- Action & Adventure 179
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- Biographical 1
- Boys / Men 133
- Classics 1
- Fairy Tales & Folklore 11
- Family 123
- General 262
- Girls & Women 187
- Historical 141
- Holidays & Celebrations 72
- Humorous Stories 2
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- Legends, Myths, & Fables 48
- Lifestyles 253
- Mysteries, Espionage, & Detective Stories 12
- Nature & the Natural World 3
- Religious 81
- School & Education 127
- Science Fiction, Fantasy, & Magic 12
- Short Stories 6
- Sports & Recreation 31
- Toys, Dolls, & Puppets 10
- Transportation 44
Juvenile Fiction Books
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CHAPTER I Anne and her uncle were standing side by side on the deck of the steamship Caronia due to sail in an hour. Both had their eyes fixed on the dock below. Anne was looking at everything with eager interest. Her uncle, with as intent a gaze, seemed watching for something that he did not see. Presently he laid his hand on Anne's shoulder. "I'm going to walk about, Nancy pet," he...
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THE FOURTH VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY "I wonder why the yaks are so wild and difficult to handle this morning?" said George, as he stopped the wagon and tried to calm them by soothing words. At that moment Harry, who was in the lead, sprang back with a cry of alarm, and quietly, but with-evident excitement, whispered: "There are some big animals over to the right!" The Professor was out of the...
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Preparations for the Chase. Fred Temple was a tall, handsome young fellow of about five-and-twenty. He had a romantic spirit, a quiet gentlemanly manner, a pleasant smile, and a passionate desire for violent exercise. To look at him you would have supposed that he was rather a lazy man, for all his motions were slow and deliberate. He was never in a hurry, and looked as if it would take a great deal to...
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Beginning—My early life and character—I thirst for adventure in foreign lands, and go to sea. Roving has always been, and still is, my ruling passion, the joy of my heart, the very sunshine of my existence. In childhood, in boyhood, and in man’s estate I have been a rover; not a mere rambler among the woody glens and upon the hill-tops of my own native land, but an enthusiastic rover throughout...
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THE MOTHER OF HEROES For a man whose thirtieth year was still not far behind him, the man's face was over careworn. It suggested that he felt life's difficulties more keenly than a man should at that age. But it may have been that this was a necessary part of the keenness with which the whole of life appealed to him; its good things, as well as its worries. He rose from his writing-table...
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LITTLE BOY BLUE Little Boy Blue was not his real name. Oh, no! His real name was Richard Snow. But his mother always called him "Little Boy Blue." His father called him "Boy Blue," too. Every one called him "Little Boy Blue," and so I will. Boy Blue's eyes were as blue as the sky on a summer day. When he was a baby he always wore a blue ribbon in his hair. When he was five...
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Carolyn Wells
CHAPTER I A GAY HOUSEHOLD “Isn’t Mrs. Phelps too perfectly sweet! That is the loveliest fan I ever laid eyes on, and to think it’s mine!” “And will you look at this? A silver coffee-machine! Oh, Nan, mayn’t I make it work, sometimes?” “Indeed you may; and oh, see this! A piece of antique Japanese bronze! Isn’t it great?” “I don’t like it as well as the sparkling, shiny things....
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One Captain Purlrose. About as rugged, fierce-looking a gang of men as a lad could set eyes on, as they struggled up the steep cliff road leading to the castle, which frowned at the summit, where the flashing waters of the Gleame swept round three sides of its foot, half hidden by the beeches and birches, which overhung the limpid stream. The late spring was at its brightest and best, but there had...
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Kate Greenaway
CHAPTER I. THE MAN IN THE MOON. Children, down on the planet which you call Earth, allow me to introduce myself to you! I am the Man in the Moon. I have no doubt that you know a good deal about me, in an indirect way, and that your nurses have told you all sorts of nonsense about my inquiring the way to Norwich—as if I didn't know the way to Norwich! and various things equally sensible. But now...
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Louise Brooks
AT THE COUNTRY-HOUSE ON THE RHINE. The golden sunshine of a glorious June morning flooded the roses of the beautiful garden that surrounded a handsome stone villa on the banks of the Rhine. A thousand sweet perfumes borne upon the gentle breeze mounted like incense to the open windows, and sought entrance there. From a great basin in the middle of the garden, a slender shaft of water rose straight up...
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