Juvenile Fiction Books

Showing: 931-940 results of 1873

IN WHICH PHIL COMES HOME WITH PLENTY OF FISH. "Hollo, Phil!" That was the name to which I answered, especially when it was spoken as decidedly as on the present occasion. "I'm coming," I replied, at the top of my lungs. I had been a-fishing in a stream which flowed into the Missouri about a mile above my home. I had been very successful, and had as many fish as I could carry. I was... more...

CHAPTER I NEWS The second arithmetic class had just come out to recite, when somebody knocked at the door. Miss Cardrew sent Delia Guest to open it. "It's a—ha, ha! letter—he, he! for you," said Delia, coming up to the desk. Exactly wherein lay the joke, in the fact that Miss Cardrew should have a letter, nobody but Delia was capable of seeing; but Delia was given to seeing jokes on... more...

CHAPTER I. THE SECRET MEETING.   wo days after the holidays began, the four younger members of the Danvers family received a note summoning them to a secret meeting at half-past seven the next morning in the summer-house. Drusie, who had written and delivered the notes, including one to herself, was the first to reach the appointed place; and when, a few minutes later, the other three arrived, they... more...

THE FLAG CHAPTER I Snow everywhere; freshly fallen, white and beautiful. It lay unsullied on the village roofs, and, trampled but not yet soiled, in the village streets. The spruce trees on the lawn at Bannerhall were weighted with it, and on the lawn itself it rested, like an ermine blanket, soft and satisfying. Down the steps of the porch that stretched across the front of the mansion, a boy ran,... more...

CHIRP THE FIRST The kettle began it! Don't tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle said. I know better. Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record to the end of time that she couldn't say which of them began it; but I say the kettle did. I ought to know, I hope? The kettle began it, full five minutes by the little waxy-faced Dutch clock in the corner, before the Cricket uttered a chirp. As if the clock... more...

CHAPTER I MR. TITMOUSE DOESN'T KNOW DICK "We thought ten dollars would be about right," Dick Prescott announced. "Per week?" inquired Mr. Titmouse, as though he doubted his hearing. "Oh, dear, no! For the month of August, sir." Mr. Newbegin Titmouse surveyed his young caller through half-closed eyelids. "Ten dollars for the use of that fine wagon for a whole month?"... more...

Chapter One. “You, Tom Jones, let that pot-lid alone.” It was a big brown-faced woman who said that crossly, and a big rough-looking bugler, in the uniform of the 200th Fusiliers, with belts, buttons and facings looking very clean and bright, but the scarlet cloth ragged and stained from the rain and mud, and sleeping in it anywhere, often without shelter, who dropped the lid as if it were hot and... more...

CHAPTER I THE AUNTS 'Child, be mother to this child.'—E. B. BROWNING.   t was seven o'clock on an autumn morning nearly a hundred years ago. A misty October morning, when the meadows looked grey with the heavy dew, and the sky was only just beginning to show pale blue through the haze which veiled it. There was a certain little hamlet, just a few cottages clustered together beside a... more...

THROUGH THE FIELDS The sunniest place upon the hillside was the little pasture in which the old mare was grazing, moving slowly about and nipping at the short grass as if that which lay directly under her nose could not be nearly as choice as that which she could obtain by constant perambulation. A blithe voice awoke the echoes with a fragment of an old song. The mare looked up and gave a welcoming... more...

AN INLAND VOYAGE The morning train from Benton, rumbling and puffing along its way through outlying farmland, and sending its billows of smoke like sea rollers across the pastures, drew up, ten miles from the city, at a little station that overlooked a pond, lying clear and sparkling at the base of some low, wooded hills. An old-fashioned, weather-beaten house, adjacent the station, and displaying a... more...