Juvenile Fiction
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Juvenile Fiction Books
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by:
W. Burton
Two Travellers. “Don’t they bite, sir?” “Bite?” Smick! smack! flap! “Oh, murder!” “What’s the matter, sir?” “My hand.” “Hurt it, sir?” “I should think I have.” “You should wait till they’ve sucked ’emselves full and then hit ’em; they’re lazy then. Too quick for you now.” “The wretches! I shall be spotted all over, like a currant dumpling. I say, Shaddy, do...
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nce upon a time there lived in the city of Bagdad a young man called Jalaladdeen. It was not his native place; but, in his early days, his father had taken up his abode there. He was, however, little acquainted with the town, in which he had grown up a sturdy youth; for his father inhabited a small house in one of the suburbs, and lived a very retired and frugal life. They managed their household...
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T was getting very near to Christmas-time, and all the boys at Miss Ware's school were talking excitedly about going home for the holidays, of the fun they would have, the presents they would receive on Christmas morning, the tips from Grannies, Uncles, and Aunts, of the pantomimes, the parties, the never-ending joys and pleasures which would be theirs."I shall go to Madame Tussaud's and...
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by:
Harry Castlemon
CHAPTER I. A NOVEL BATTLE. "Pull him along, Carlos! Pull him along!" shouted a young gentleman about sixteen years of age, as he danced about on the back porch of his uncle's house, in a state of great excitement; "why don't you pull him along?" "He'll come, after awhile," replied the person addressed; "but he is very wild and obstinate." The boy on the...
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HERO IS LOST "Where do you suppose Hero can be, Aunt Deborah? He isn't anywhere about the house, or in the shed or the garden," and Ruth Pennell's voice sounded as if she could hardly keep back the tears as she stood in the doorway of the pleasant kitchen where Aunt Deborah was at work. "Do you suppose the British have taken him?" she asked a little fearfully; for it was the...
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by:
Edgar Jepson
CHAPTER ONE "It is," said Lord Crosland, "deucedly odd." "What?" said Sir Tancred Beauleigh. "That after seeing nothing of one another for nearly three years, we should arrive at this caravanserai from different stations at the same time, to find that our letters engaging this set of rooms came by the same post." "It comes of having been born on the same day,"...
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by:
Gordon Browne
Chapter 1: The Wreck on the Devon Coast. It was a Stormy morning in the month of May, 1572; and the fishermen of the little village of Westport, situate about five miles from Plymouth, clustered in the public house of the place; and discussed, not the storm, for that was a common topic, but the fact that Master Francis Drake, whose ships lay now at Plymouth, was visiting the Squire of Treadwood, had...
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by:
Harry Castlemon
CHAPTER I. MARCY HAS A VISITOR. The boys who have read the first volume of this series of books, in which we followed the fortunes of our Union hero, Marcy Gray, and described the persevering but unsuccessful efforts he made to be true to his colors in deed as well as in spirit, will remember that we left him at his home near Nashville, North Carolina, enjoying a brief respite from the work he so...
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THE McGREGORS "Carl!" "Coming, Ma!" Mrs. McGregor waited a moment. "But you aren't coming," protested she fretfully. "You never seem to come when you're wanted. Drat the child! Where is he? Carl!" "Yes, Ma." "Yes, Ma! Yes, Ma!" the woman mimicked impatiently. "It's easy enough to shout Yes, Ma; but where are you—that's what I...
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by:
Mayne Reid
A Chase. In mid-ocean—the Pacific. Two ships within sight of one another, less than a league apart. Both sailing before the wind, running dead down it with full canvas spread—not side by side, but one in the wake of the other. Is it a chase? To all appearance, yes; a probability strengthened by the relative size and character of the vessels. One is a barque, polacca-masted, her masts raking back...
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