Juvenile Fiction
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Animals Books
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CHAPTER I. THIS IS THE STORY THAT DAGO TOLD TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON MONDAY. Here I am at last, Ring-tail! The boys have gone to school, thank fortune, and little Elsie has been taken to kindergarten. Everybody in the house thinks that I am safe up-stairs in the little prison of a room that they made for me in the attic. I suppose they never thought how easy it would be for me to swing out of the...
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Laura Lee Hope
TOY-SHOP FUN Toot! Toot! Tootity-toot-toot! "Goodness me! who is blowing the horn?" asked the Talking Doll, as she sat up on the shelf in the toy shop. "This isn't Friday; and we don't want any fish!" "Speak for yourself, if you please," said a large, white China Cat, who had just finished washing a few specks of dirt off her shiny coat with her red tongue. "I...
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Edith Carrington
1. UP TO LONDON. 1. In the reign of the famous king Edward the Third, there was a little boy named Dick Whitt-ing-ton, whose father and mother died when he was very young. 2. He knew nothing about them, and he was left, a poor little ragged, dirty fellow, to run about the streets of a small country village. 3. As poor Dick was not old enough to work, he was in a sad state; he got but little for his...
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Beatrix Potter
THE STORY OF MISS MOPPET This is a Pussy called Miss Moppet, she thinks she has heard a mouse! This is the Mouse peeping out behind the cupboard, and making fun of Miss Moppet. He is not afraid of a kitten. This is Miss Moppet jumping just too late; she misses the Mouse and hits her own head. She thinks it is a very hard cupboard! The Mouse watches Miss Moppet from the top of the cupboard. Miss Moppet...
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Anonymous
Ida was a kind-hearted girl, and one day when crossing a bridge near her home, she saw two boys on the banks of the stream, trying to drown a little dog. Ida, like all good girls, could not bear to see anything suffer, and was brave enough to try and prevent it. So, she ran to the shore, wringing her hands, and crying loudly, "Oh! you bad, wicked boys! how can you be so cruel to that poor little...
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There once lived happily together, in a fine house, a tortoise-shell Cat and a pretty white Dog: the Cat’s name was Tittums; the Dog’s, Fido. In course of time the pretty Dog fell in love with the Cat, and only waited for a good chance to disclose his affections. This came one day, when Tittums had put her paws on the fender, dropped her head a little on one side, half closed her eyes, and seemed...
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Anna Sewell
01 My Early Home The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master's house, which stood by the roadside; at the top of the meadow was a grove of fir...
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Mayne Reid
Souvenirs. Land of the nopal and maguey—home of Moctezuma and Malinché!—I cannot wring thy memories from my heart! Years may roll on, hand wax weak, and heart grow old, but never till both are cold can I forget thee! I would not; for thee would I remember. Not for all the world would I bathe my soul in the waters of Lethe. Blessed be memory for thy sake! Bright land of Anahuac! my spirit mounts...
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Down at my feet on the red tiles in front of a roaring great fire sit a great black cat and a soft white Angora pussy. They are named Ebony and Snowball and are as different in nature as they are in colour, but are devoted friends for all that. Possibly because of it! for where Snowball is timid, Ebony will bravely lead the way; while if Ebony is cross, Snowball will purr and coax and cuddle until he...
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THE MOTHER OF HEROES For a man whose thirtieth year was still not far behind him, the man's face was over careworn. It suggested that he felt life's difficulties more keenly than a man should at that age. But it may have been that this was a necessary part of the keenness with which the whole of life appealed to him; its good things, as well as its worries. He rose from his writing-table...
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