Juvenile Fiction Books

Valuable Booty. A good many years ago, before, indeed, I can remember, His Majesty’s Ship Laurel, a corvette of eighteen guns and a hundred and thirty men, commanded by Captain Blunt, formed one of the West India squadron. She, with another corvette, and a brig in company, came one fine morning off a beautiful island, then in possession of the French, although, as Dick Driver, from whom I got the... more...

Self and Friends. Bigley Uggleston always said that it was in 1753, because he vowed that was the hot year when we had gone home for the midsummer holidays from Barnstaple Grammar-school. Bob Chowne stuck out, as he always would when he knew he was wrong, that it was in 1755, and when I asked him why he put it then, he held up his left hand with his fingers and thumb spread out, which was always his... more...

A FRAGMENT Part I"Those never lovedWho dream that they 'loved once.'"—E. B. Browning."Youwon't be long any way, dear Auntie?" said Sylvia with a little sigh. "I don't half like your going. Couldn't you wait till the day after to-morrow?""Or at least take me with you," said Molly, Sylvia's younger sister, eagerly. Auntie hesitated—she... more...

The Play Commences. Blown to bits; bits so inconceivably, so ineffably, so “microscopically” small that—but let us not anticipate. About the darkest hour of a very dark night, in the year 1883, a large brig lay becalmed on the Indian Ocean, not far from that region of the Eastern world which is associated in some minds with spices, volcanoes, coffee, and piratical junks, namely, the Malay... more...

Introductory. We belong to a Cornish family of the greatest respectability and high antiquity—so say the county records, in which we have every reason to place the most unbounded confidence. The Tregellins have possessed the same estate for I do not know exactly how long; only I suppose it must have been some time after Noah disembarked from the ark, and, at all events, for a very long time. The... more...

THE PICTURE. H, Madge, just stay as you are; there—your head a little more turned this way.""But, Raymond, I can't possibly make the toast if I do." "Never mind the toast; I shan't be many minutes," said the boy who was painting in the window, while he mixed some colours in an excited, eager manner. "The fire is very hot. Mayn't I move just to one side?"... more...

his is such a capital night for a story, papa," said Robert Lincoln to his father, who had laid away his newspaper and seemed inclined to take an extra forty winks. "Indeed, Robert," said Mr. Lincoln, smiling, "I wonder if you would ever tire of hearing stories. I don't think I have one left; you and Lily have managed to exhaust my store." "O papa, please don't say... more...

THE WRECK OF A FEAST. What a sad sight it is to see a young child who does not know how to keep a check on the wish that tempts him to do wrong. The first rule that they who love a child should teach him, is the rule of self. It is the want of this self-rule that is the cause of so much that is bad in the world. It is this that makes girls and boys think more of what they want to do, than of what they... more...

CHAPTER I. AT HOME. On the evening of a dismal, rainy day in spring, a mother and her son were sitting in their log-cabin home in the southern portion of the present State of Missouri. The settlement bore the name of Martinsville, in honor of the leader of the little party of pioneers who had left Kentucky some months before, and, crossing the Mississippi, located in that portion of the vast territory... more...

THE PLAY COMMENCES. Blown to bits; bits so inconceivably, so ineffably, so "microscopically" small that—but let us not anticipate. About the darkest hour of a very dark night, in the year 1883, a large brig lay becalmed on the Indian Ocean, not far from that region of the Eastern world which is associated in some minds with spices, volcanoes, coffee, and piratical junks, namely, the Malay... more...