Juvenile Fiction
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General Books
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by:
Walter S. Rogers
CHAPTER I "Phil, your father seems to be a good deal worried this morning. I hope it isn't on account of the way we cut up on this ship last evening." "Not at all, Dave," returned Phil Lawrence. "I don't believe he noticed our monkey-shines. He is worried over the letter he received in the mail we got at our last stopping-place." "No bad news I hope?" said...
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Eleanor Gates
Halfway up the shining surface of the gilt-framed pier glass was a mark—a tiny ink-line that had been carefully drawn across the outer edge of the wide bevel. As Gwendolyn stared at the line, the reflection of her small face in the mirror grew suddenly all white, as if some rude hand had reached out and brushed away the pink from cheeks and lips. Arms rigid at her sides, and open palms pressed hard...
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Aunt Fanny
THE LITTLE KITTENS. Only to think! A letter from Aunt Fanny to the little ones, which begins in this fanny way: "You Darling Kittens—" All the small children looked at Mary O'Reilly—who sat staring at the fire, with her whiskers sticking up in the air, and then felt their faces with their little fat hands. They did not find the least scrap of a whisker anywhere on their round cheeks;...
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CHAPTER I PLANS FOR AN OUTING "Whoop! hurrah! Zip, boom, ah! Rockets!" "For gracious' sake, Tom, what's all the racket about? I thought we had all the noise we wanted last night, when we broke up camp." "It's news, Dick, glorious news," returned Tom Rover, and he began to dance a jig on the tent flooring. "It's the best ever." "It won't be...
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Alice B. Emerson
CHAPTER I ON THE LUMANO RIVER The steady turning of the grinding-stones set the old Red Mill a-quiver in every board and beam. The air within was full of dust—dust of the grain, and fine, fine dust from the stones themselves. Uncle Jabez Potter, the miller, came to the door and looked across the grassy yard that separated the mill and the farmhouse attached from the highroad. Under a broad-spreading...
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THE OLD GARRET. "Pray, dear Mother," said the boys, "tell us what else you heard in the old garret." "You know," said she, "it was on a rainy Sunday when my mother sent me up there with my book, Pilgrim's Progress. This book always delighted me, and set my fancy to work in some way or other. After reading a while, I began to look at the queer old things in the garret....
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This little story I have translated from the French of Mademoiselle Montgolfier. If children enjoy it as much as I have, and think it as pretty, they will not regret that I have preferred it to any thing I could write for them. Mademoiselle Montgolfier says in her preface to the little book, "Notwithstanding the fanciful character of this story, it is, in fact, simply a little lesson in Natural...
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CHAPTER I ALF AND HIS "MAKINGS OF MANHOOD" "Say, got the makings?" "Eh?" inquired Tom Reade, glancing up in mild astonishment. "Got the makings?" persisted the thin dough-faced lad of fourteen who had come into the tent. "I believe we have the makings for supper, if you mean that you're hungry," Tom rejoined. "But you've just had your dinner."...
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A sound through the darkness. “Phew!” ejaculated Mr Perry, first lieutenant of His Britannic Majesty’s corvette Psyche, as he removed his hat and mopped the perspiration from his streaming forehead with an enormous spotted pocket-handkerchief. “I believe it’s getting hotter instead of cooler; although, by all the laws that are supposed to govern this pestiferous climate, we ought to be close...
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Chapter One. Grannie Malone and the Twins. One day of the world, when it was young summer in Ireland, old Grannie Malone sat by her fireplace knitting. She was all alone, and in her lap lay a letter. Sometimes she took the letter in her hands, and turned it over and over, and looked at it. Then she would put it down again with a little sigh. “If I but had the learning,” said Grannie Malone to...
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