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Showing: 31-40 results of 123

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; there is only a little to... more...

From Pretence to Reality. “Berengaria, what do you generally do with your old court trains? How do you use them up?” The fire had died down to a dull red glow; only one tiny flame remained, which, flickering to and fro, showed a wide expanse of floor, and two easy-chairs drawn up before the fender, on which reclined vague, feminine figures. The voice which had asked the question was slow and languid, and breathed a wearied... more...

THE ESKIMO TWINS This is the true story of Menie and Monnie and their two little dogs, Nip and Tup. Menie and Monnie are twins, and they live far away in the North, near the very edge. They are five years old. Menie is the boy, and Monnie is the girl. But you cannot tell which is Menie and which is Monnie,—not even if you look ever so hard at their pictures! That is because they dress alike. When they are a little way off even their... more...

The Great American Desert. There is a great desert in the interior of North America. It is almost as large as the famous Saära of Africa. It is fifteen hundred miles long, and a thousand wide. Now, if it were of a regular shape—that is to say, a parallelogram—you could at once compute its area, by multiplying the length upon the breadth; and you would obtain one million and a half for the result—one million and a half of... more...

THE BLUE LIGHT "Mother, make Ted stop!" "I'm not doing anything at all, Mother!" "Yes he is, too! Please call him in. He's hurting my doll." "Oh, Janet Martin, I am not!" "You are so, Theodore Baradale Martin; and you've just got to stop!" Janet, or Jan, as she was more often called, stood in front of her brother with flashing eyes and red cheeks. "Children! Children! What are you doing now?" asked their mother, appearing in the doorway of... more...


THE CURLYTOPS AND THEIR PLAYMATESCHAPTER ITROUBLE IN TROUBLE "When do you s'pose it'll come, Teddy?" "Oh, pretty soon now, I guess. We're all ready for it when it does come," and Ted Martin glanced from where he sat over toward a slanting hill made of several long boards nailed to some tall packing boxes. The boxes were piled high at one end, and on top was a little platform, reached by some steps made of smaller boxes. "It's a good while... more...

CHAPTER I UNCLE TOBY'S LETTER "What you going to put on your ship, Ted?" "Oh, swords and guns and gunpowder and soldiers. What you going to load on your ship, Jan?" "Oranges and lemons and pineapples," answered the little girl, who was playing with her brother at sailing boats in the brook that ran back of the house. "And maybe I'll have gold and diamonds and chocolate cake on my ship, Teddy," went on Janet Martin. "If you do I'll be a... more...

THE DAME'S DEPARTURE.   MERRY life had Dame Desley and her four children led in their rural home. The sound of their cheerful voices, the patter of their little feet, the laugh, the shout, and the song, had been heard from morning till night. I will not stop to tell of all the daisy-chains and cowslip-balls made by the children under the big elm-tree that grew on their mother's lawn; or how they gathered ripe blackberries in autumn; or in... more...

Prehistoric Man. This is a story about things that happened ages and ages ago, before any of us were born, or our great-great-grandfathers either, for that matter. It was so very long ago that there were no houses, or farms, or roads from one place to another, and there was not a single city, or a town, or even a village in the whole earth. There was just the great, round world, all fresh and new, and covered with growing things; and there were... more...

A Supplanter 'For troubles wrought of men,Patience is hard.'—J. Ingelow. The firelight shone upon a comfortably-furnished drawing-room in one of the quiet London squares, and upon four girlish figures grouped around a small tea-table. Agatha Dane, the eldest, sat back in her chair with a little wrinkle of perplexity upon her usually placid brow. Rather plump and short of stature, with no pretensions to beauty, there was yet something... more...