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Showing: 1-10 results of 123

Half a Dozen Daughters. There were six of them altogether—six great big girls,—and they lived in a great big house, in the middle of a long high road, one end of which loses itself in London town, while the other goes stretching away over the county of Hertford. Years ago, John Gilpin had ridden his famous race down that very road, and Christabel loved to look out of her bedroom window and imagine that she saw him flying along, with... more...

CHAPTER I. THE POOR INNOCENT. The four children had rather peculiar names. The eldest girl was called Iris, which, as everybody ought to know, means rainbow—indeed, there was an Iris spoken of in the old Greek legends, who was supposed to be Hera's chief messenger, and whenever a rainbow appeared in the sky it was said that Iris was bringing down a message from Hera. The Iris of this story was a very pretty, thoughtful little girl, aged... more...

AT THE PALACE “You may stay down here until nine o’clock if you like,” said Bridget. “It’s awful cold upstairs. Be sure to wrap yourself good in the old blanket. And put a little coal on the range. If you let my fire go out, I’ll skin you alive.” When Marilla first heard that threat she shuddered all over. If you scratched a little bit of skin off it hurt dreadfully. But Bridget never did it.... more...

The Adventure of a Kite.   ne evening, when Mary, her mamma, and Willie had all taken their seats near the window, and the story was about to begin, Mary reminded her mamma of a merry adventure that she had mentioned as having happened when she and her brother and Master White went out to fly their "new Kite." "Do, mamma, tell us about that," said Mary. Her mamma said she would, and after thinking for a few minutes, to recollect all... more...

WYGATE SCHOOL "Emily Underwood, 19; Stanley Smith, 20; Cyril Bruce, 21; Nellie Underwood, 22; Elizabeth Bruce, 23—bottom of the class!" Mr. Sharman took off his eyeglasses, rubbed them, and put them on again. Then he looked very hard at the little girl at the end of the furthest form, who was hanging her head and industriously biting a slate pencil. "Stand up, Elizabeth Bruce. Put down your pencil and fold your hands behind you."... more...


CHAPTER I MISS DOYLE INTERFERES "Daddy," said Patricia Doyle at the breakfast table in her cosy New York apartment, "here is something that will make you sit up and take notice." "My dear Patsy," was the reply, "it's already sitting up I am, an' taking waffles. If anything at all would make me take notice it's your own pretty phiz." "Major," remarked Uncle John, helping himself to waffles from a fresh plate Nora brought in, "you Irish are... more...

AUNT ANNE. Barbara entered the nursery with rather a worried look on her face. "Aunt Anne is coming to-morrow, children," she announced. "To-morrow!" exclaimed a fair-haired boy, rising from the window-seat. "Oh, I say, Barbe, that's really rather hard lines—in the holidays, too." "Just as we were preparing to have a really exciting time," sighed Frances, who was her brother's close companion and ally. "I know it's a little hard,"... more...

THE NEW FARMER.   The new house at Woodlawn was nearly completed; and Mr. Curtis now set to work in earnest, clearing the grounds of the rubbish, in order to make the terraces and lay out his avenue in front. Those who have read the other books about Bertie, will know that two wide avenues, enclosed by handsome iron gates, had been already made; one winding along on the shores of Lake Shawsheen, the other entering from a higher point... more...

THE RIDE.   When I was a child I used to glance at the first sentence in a new book to see whether it looked interesting. If it began, "There was once a boy, who lived in a fine house," I was encouraged to go on. Now I wish to make these little books very interesting to my young readers. I want to have the words so simple that they can be read and not skipped over, and at the same time my object is to give you useful information. As you... more...

Two Good Homes. “It’s as black as ink,” said Dennis, lifting one of the kittens out of its warm bed in the hay; “there’s not a single white hair upon it.” “Madam’s never had a quite black one before, has she?” said his sister Maisie, who knelt beside him, before the cat and her family. It was a snug and cosy home Madam had chosen for her children, in a dark corner of the hayloft, where she... more...