Juvenile Fiction Books

GOOD NEWS   HE Willis house was very quiet. The comfortable screened porch was deserted, though a sweater in the hammock and a box of gay paper dolls on the floor showed that it had served as a play-space recently. Inside, not a door banged, not a footfall sounded. The late afternoon June sunshine streamed in through the hall window and made a broad band to the stairway which was in the shadow. The... more...

CHAPTER I. Melody, My Dear Child:I   SIT down to write my story for you, the life-story of old Rosin the Beau, your friend and true lover. Some day, not far distant now, my fiddle and I shall be laid away, in the quiet spot you know and love; and then (for you will miss me, Melody, well I know that!) this writing will be read to you, and you will hear my voice still, and will learn to know me better... more...

Lieutenant George Underhill, commanding H.M. surveying ship Albatross, had an unpleasant shock when he turned out of his bunk at daybreak one morning. The barometer stood at 29.41'. For two or three days the vessel had encountered dirty weather, but there had been signs of improvement when he turned in, and it was decidedly disconcerting to find that the glass had fallen. His vessel was a small... more...

CHAPTER XVIII.  SCOUT LAW NUMBER THREE Now, I can tell you just exactly what Mr. Ellsworth said, because I remembered it and I wrote it down right afterwards. First I was afraid Westy would say something and I didn't want him to, because—well, you'll see. So now I'll copy what Mr. Ellsworth said. Oh, jiminy, you could hear a pin drop, everyone was so quiet. He said, "Wesleigh... more...

CHAPTER ITHE HOUSE IN THE LANE One fine day in the merry month of August when the birds were singing in the trees and all the schools were closed and hikes and camping and ice cream cones were in season, and the chickens were congregated on the platform of the Hicksville, North Carolina, post office, something of far reaching consequence happened. On that day Joshua Hicks, postmaster-general of that... more...

CHAPTER I TELLS YOU HOW WE GOT STARTED Maybe you fellows will remember about how I was telling you that our troop had a house-boat that was loaned to us for the summer, by a man that lives out our way. He said we could fix it up and use it to go to Temple Camp in. It was a peach of a boat and took the hills fine— that's what we said just to jolly Pee-wee Harris, who is in our troop.... more...

WE LOSE A MEMBER Now I’m going to tell you about the bee-line hike. Maybe you’ll say you don’t believe everything I tell you about it, but one thing sure, it’s a straight story. It wasn’t so long, that hike, but—oh, boy! Now the first thing I have to do in this story is to get rid of Charlie Seabury. That’s easy. Then the next thing I have to do is to tell you about Pee-wee Harris. Gee... more...

CHAPTER I BREWSTER'S CENTRE Maybe you think just because scouts go camping in the summer time, and take hikes and all that, that there's nothing to do in the winter. But I'm always going to stick up for winter, that's one sure thing. Anyway, this story isn't exactly a winter story, it's a kind of a fall story—lightweight. Maybe after this I'll write a heavyweight... more...

A LETTER. School was over, and the holidays were beginning once more, summer holidays, with all their promise of pleasure for dwellers in the country. The scent of sweet new hay was borne on the afternoon breeze, and the broad sunlight lay on fields of waving corn which would soon be ready for the sickle, and on green meadows from which the hay was being carried. Ruth Arnold slowly wended her way... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE LUMANO RIVER The steady turning of the grinding-stones set the old Red Mill a-quiver in every board and beam. The air within was full of dust—dust of the grain, and fine, fine dust from the stones themselves. Uncle Jabez Potter, the miller, came to the door and looked across the grassy yard that separated the mill and the farmhouse attached from the highroad. Under a broad-spreading... more...