Juvenile Fiction
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- General 262
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- Nature & the Natural World 3
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- Short Stories 6
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Family Books
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Thelma Gooch
FINDING THE NEW HOME The late afternoon sunshine sent its slanting, golden rays through the car windows on to the map that Mary Jane and her sister Alice had spread out on the table between the seats of the Pullman in which they were riding. “And all that wiggly line is water?” Mary Jane was asking. “Every bit water,” replied their father, who bent over their heads to explain what they were...
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CHAPTER I. Up and down, to and fro, backwards and for wards over the sunny garden the butterflies, white, sulphur, and brown, flitted and fluttered, lightly poising on currant-bush or flower, loving life as they basked in the sunshine; and Penelope lay and watched them. What did it matter to them that the garden was neglected, the grass rank and uncut, the currant-bushes barren from neglect, the lilacs...
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A NEW GAME "Mother, what can we do now?" "Tell us something to play, please! We want to have some fun!" As Harry and Mabel Blake said this they walked slowly up the path toward the front porch, on which their mother was sitting one early Spring day. The two children did not look very happy. "What can we do?" asked Hal, as he was called more often than Harry. "There...
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The Hunters. It was on a cold winter morning long ago, that Robin Gore, a bold hunter of the backwoods of America, entered his parlour and sat him down to breakfast. Robin’s parlour was also his dining-room, and his drawing-room, besides being his bedroom and his kitchen. In fact, it was the only room in his wooden hut, except a small apartment, opening off it, which was a workshop and lumber-room....
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Margaret Sidney
A FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA "I wish," said Phronsie slowly, "that you'd come in, little girl." "Can't." The girl at the gate peered through the iron railings, pressing her nose quite flat, to give the sharp, restless, black eyes the best chance. "Please do," begged Phronsie, coming up quite close; "I very much wish you would." "Can't," repeated...
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L. T. Meade
CHAPTER I. Philip Ogilvie and his pretty wife were quarrelling, as their custom was, in the drawing-room of the great house in Belgrave Square, but the Angel in the nursery upstairs knew nothing at all about that. She was eight years old, and was, at that critical moment when her father and mother were having words which might embitter all their lives, and perhaps sever them for ever, unconsciously and...
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Thelma Gooch
CHAPTER I Doctor Hugh leaned back in his swivel chair and looked anxiously at his mother. "I don't believe you realize how incessant the noise will be," he urged. "Every morning hammering and sawing and the inevitable shouting and argument that seem to attend all building operations, especially when the job is one of alteration, like this." "I shall not mind the noise,...
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Carolyn Wells
CHAPTER I A JOLLY GOOD GAME "What do you say, King, railroad smash-up or shipwreck?" "I say shipwreck, with an awfully desert island." "I say shipwreck, too," said Kitty, "but I don't want to swim ashore." "All right," agreed Marjorie, "shipwreck, then. I'll get the cocoanuts." "Me, too," chimed in Rosy Posy. "Me tumble in the wet...
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CHAPTER I LOOKING THE FUTURE IN THE FACE Lilian Boyd entered the small, rather shabby room, neat, though everything was well worn. Her mother sat by a little work table busy with some muslin sewing and she looked up with a weary smile. Lilian laid a five-dollar bill on the table. “Madame Lupton sails on Saturday,” she said. “Oh how splendid it must be to go to Paris! Mrs. Cairns is to finish up;...
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Margaret Sidney
PHRONSIE'S PIE "Jefferson," said Phronsie, with a grave uplifting of her eyebrows, "I think I will go down into the kitchen and bake a pie; a very little pie, Jefferson." "Bless you, Miss," replied the cook, showing his white teeth in glee, "it is the making of the kitchen when you come it." "Yes, Jefferson," said Phronsie slowly, "I think I will go down...
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