Juvenile Fiction Books

Showing: 891-900 results of 1873

Johnny Gruelle,Care of P. F. Volland Company.Chicago, Ill. Dear Johnny:When I saw your Raggedy Ann books and dolls in a store near here, I went right in and bought one of each, and when I had read your introduction to "Raggedy Ann" I went right up to an old trunk in my own attic and brought down the doll I am sending you with this letter. This doll belonged to my mother and she played with it... more...

INTRODUCTION Marcella liked to play up in the attic at Grandma's quaint old house, 'way out in the country, for there were so many old forgotten things to find up there. One day when Marcella was up in the attic and had played with the old spinning wheel until she had grown tired of it, she curled up on an old horse-hair sofa to rest. "I wonder what is in that barrel, 'way back in... more...

THE CAR stopped and a shaggy little dog named Rags was pushed into the street. Rags' owner was very angry. "That's the last slipper of mine that you'll chew up!" he said, and sped away. Rags stood in the street. "So that was it," he thought. "But he had so many slippers in his closet, how was I to know he'd mind if I just chewed a few?" The street was wide... more...

CHAPTER I Doctor Hugh leaned back in his swivel chair and looked anxiously at his mother. "I don't believe you realize how incessant the noise will be," he urged. "Every morning hammering and sawing and the inevitable shouting and argument that seem to attend all building operations, especially when the job is one of alteration, like this." "I shall not mind the noise,... more...

CHAPTER I. HOME AGAIN It was a clear, apple-green evening in May, and Four Winds Harbour was mirroring back the clouds of the golden west between its softly dark shores. The sea moaned eerily on the sand-bar, sorrowful even in spring, but a sly, jovial wind came piping down the red harbour road along which Miss Cornelia's comfortable, matronly figure was making its way towards the village of Glen... more...

CHAPTER I. "Must I do it, grandpa?" "Of course you must! I'm afraid you ain't a true Granger, Ralph, or you wouldn't ask no such question." "But why should I do it, grandpa?" "Listen at the boy." The sharp-eyed, grizzled old man rose from his seat before the fire, and took down an ancient looking, muzzle loading rifle from over the cabin door.... more...

The puffing, panting engine that dragged the long train of heavy cars into the busy little city of Bradford, in the State of Pennsylvania, one day last summer, witnessed through its one white, staring eye, sometimes called the head-light, many happy meetings between waiting and coming friends; but none was more hearty than that between two college mates—one who had graduated the year previous, and... more...

CHAPTER I NO. 999 “All aboard.” Ralph Fairbanks swung into the cab of No. 999 with the lever hooked up for forward motion, and placed a firm hand on the throttle. It looked as though half the working force of the railroad, and every juvenile friend he had ever known in Stanley Junction, had come down to the little old depot that beautiful summer afternoon to especially celebrate the greatest... more...

"Yes, we'll all feel gay when Johnnie comes marching home again," he finished, with a musing chuckle. "Did you, Grandpa?" the boy asked. "Did I what?" "Did you all feel gay when the army got home?" "It didn't get home all at once, precisely," the grandfather explained. "When the war was over I suppose we felt relieved, more than anything else."... more...

Chapter One. I was just sixteen when I ran away to sea. I did not do so because I had been treated unkindly at home. On the contrary, I left behind me a fond and indulgent father, a kind and gentle mother, sisters and brothers who loved me, and who lamented for me long after I was gone. But no one had more cause to regret this act of filial disobedience than I myself. I soon repented of what I had... more...