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Showing: 101-110 results of 134

CHAPTER I — ALL RIGHT! OFF WE GO! "Yet here... you are stayed for... There; my blessing with you,And these few precepts in thy memorySee thou character——-""Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.I rather would entreat thy companyTo see the wonders of the world abroad,Than living dully, sluggardis'd at home,Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.""Where unbruised youth, with unstuff'd brain,Doth couch his limbs, there... more...

Chapter IX. There ended his narrative. He started from the spot where he stood, and, without affording me any opportunity of replying or commenting, disappeared amidst the thickest of the wood. I had no time to exert myself for his detention. I could have used no arguments for this end, to which it is probable he would have listened. The story I had heard was too extraordinary, too completely the reverse of all my expectations, to allow me to... more...

CHAPTER I THE WOLF PATROL ELECTS A baseball rose gracefully in the air, carried on a way, and dropped. Three scouts back from a hike halted under the maple tree that bordered the village field, and unslung their haversacks. "Gee!" cried Fred Ritter. "Did you see Ted Carter make that catch?" "And did you see Tim Lally get that one?" demanded Wally Woods. Andy Ford grinned. "Ted's the boy to keep them working. Chester will have a real town... more...

CHAPTER I. SOMETHING TO LOVE. "There, take that, and be off with you! And no dawdling, mind. It's ten minutes late, and you'll have to step it to be there by one. That's your dinner, and more than you deserve." Dick Crosby took the one thick slice she offered, slipped the handle of the tin of tea on his arm, and with the big basin, tied up in a blue handkerchief, in his other hand, marched off in the direction of the tin works, while... more...

A Home at Sea. “Here, you, Vince!” cried Doctor Burnet, pausing in his surgery with a bottle in each hand—one large and the other small, the latter about to be filled for the benefit of a patient who believed himself to be very ill and felt aggrieved when his medical adviser told him that he would be quite well if he did not eat so much. “Yes, father.” The boy walked up to the surgery door at the end of the long,... more...


CHAPTER I THE FROG HUNTERS "How many greenback saddles does that last bullfrog Max shot make, Toby!" "T-t-thirteen, all t-t-told, Steve." "Ginger! that's going some for so early in the spring season, isn't it? I'd like to get about twenty before we quit, which would make just five for each of us, Max, Bandy-legs, you and myself. And seems like we ought to knock over seven more this Saturday afternoon." "Say, if only we were up in that old... more...

MAKING CANDY. Grace and Horace Clifford lived in Indiana, and so were called "Hoosiers." Their home, with its charming grounds, was a little way out of town, and from the front windows of the house you could look out on the broad Ohio, a river which would be very beautiful, if its yellow waters were only once settled. As far as the eye could see, the earth was one vast plain, and, in order to touch it, the sky seemed to stoop very low; whereas,... more...

CHAPTER I INTRODUCING THE BOYS "I say, Ned, this is beginning to grow wearisome," drawled Randy Moore as he tipped his chair against the wall, and crossed his feet on the low railing in front of him. "Clay promised to be here half an hour ago," he went on in an injured tone, "and if he doesn't come in a few minutes I'm going to have a spin on the river. It's aggravating to sit here and do nothing. I can count a dozen boats between the... more...

I. THE ORIGIN OF THE WAR A deadly feud was raging among the boys of Numedale. The East-Siders hated the West-Siders, and thrashed them when they got a chance; and the West-Siders, when fortune favored them, returned the compliment with interest. It required considerable courage for a boy to venture, unattended by comrades, into the territory of the enemy; and no one took the risk unless dire necessity compelled him. The hostile parties had... more...

A BOY SCOUT CAMP On a sunny September afternoon two shelter tents stood in a mountain valley, on the south bank of a creek which, miles and miles below, becomes the Sweetwater river. Above the flap of each tent lifted a yellow pennant, in the center of which a blue beaver stood in an alert and listening attitude, his flat tail outstretched. A campfire blazed in front of the two tents, and some distance away four bronchos fed noisily on the... more...