Juvenile Fiction Books

PART FIRST To begin with I wish to disclaim the possession of those high gifts of imagination and expression which would have enabled my pen to create for the reader the personality of the man who called himself, after the Russian custom, Cyril son of Isidor—Kirylo Sidorovitch—Razumov. If I have ever had these gifts in any sort of living form they have been smothered out of existence a long time... more...

CHAPTER I. BILLABONG Norah's home was on a big station in the north of Victoria—so large that you could almost, in her own phrase, "ride all day and never see any one you didn't want to see"; which was a great advantage in Norah's eyes. Not that Billabong Station ever seemed to the little girl a place that you needed to praise in any way. It occupied so very modest a position... more...

CHAPTER I "Brother," said Mother Morrison, "you haven't touched your glass of milk. Hurry now, and drink it before we leave the table." Brother's big brown eyes turned from his knife, which he had been playing was a bridge from the salt cellar to the egg cup, toward the tumbler of milk standing beside his plate. "I don't have to drink milk this morning, Mother,"... more...

CHAPTER I "LOOK AT THE SKYLIGHT!" With a joyful laugh, her curls dancing about her head, while her brown eyes sparkled with fun, a little girl danced through the hall and into the dining room where her brother was eating a rather late breakfast of buckwheat cakes and syrup. "Oh, Bunny, it's doing it! It's come! Oh, won't we have fun!" cried the little girl. Bunny Brown... more...

A   POMPOUS old gander who lived in a barn-yard thought himself wiser than the rest of the creatures, and so decided to instruct them.He called together all the fowls in the barn-yard, and the pigeons off the barn-roof, and told them to listen to him. They gathered around and listened very earnestly, for they thought they would learn a great deal of wisdom. "The first thing for you to learn,"... more...

THE KING'S DAUGHTER "I wish I were a princess!" Emma stood with the dust-brush in her hand, pausing on her way upstairs to her own pretty little white room, which she was required to put in order every day. "Why, my child?" asked her mother. "Because then I would never have to sweep and dust and make beds, but would have plenty of servants to do these things for me."... more...

THE FLY AND THE GAME. A knight of powder-horn and shotOnce fill'd his bag--as I would not,Unless the feelings of my breastBy poverty were sorely press'd--With birds and squirrels for the spitsOf certain gormandizing cits.With merry heart the fellow wentDirect to Mr. Centpercent,Who loved, as well was understood,Whatever game was nice and good.This gentleman, with knowing air,Survey'd the... more...

The End of the Holidays "Ingred! Ingred, old girl! I say, Ingred! Wherever have you taken yourself off to?" shouted a boyish voice, as its owner, jumping an obstructing gooseberry bush, tore around the corner of the house from the kitchen garden on to the strip of rough lawn that faced the windows. "Hullo! Cuckoo! Coo-ee! In-gred!" "I'm here all the time, so you needn't... more...

IN NEEDY CIRCUMSTANCES "How are you feeling this morning, father?" asked Fred Stanley as his parent came slowly into the dining-room, leaning heavily on a crutch. "Not so well, Fred. My leg pained me considerable last night, and I did not sleep much. You are up early, aren't you?" "Yes. I am going over to the new diggings and see if I can't get a job, so I want to start... more...

Sleeping in Snow. Cold comfort is naturally suggested by a bed of snow, yet I have enjoyed great comfort and much warmth in such a bed. My friend Lumley was particularly fond of warmth and of physical ease, yet he often expressed the opinion, with much emphasis, that there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a night in a snow-bed. Jack Lumley was my chum—a fine manly fellow with a vigorous will, a... more...