General Books

LITTLE BOY BLUE Little Boy Blue was not his real name. Oh, no! His real name was Richard Snow. But his mother always called him "Little Boy Blue." His father called him "Boy Blue," too. Every one called him "Little Boy Blue," and so I will. Boy Blue's eyes were as blue as the sky on a summer day. When he was a baby he always wore a blue ribbon in his hair. When he was five... more...

THE YOUNG ALASKANS AT HOME IN ALASKA “ Steamboat! Steamboat!” Rob McIntyre had been angling for codfish at the top of Valdez dock for the past half-hour. Now, hearing the hoarse boom of the ocean vessel’s whistle out in the fog-bank which covered the mouth of the harbor, he pulled in his fishing-line, hurriedly threw together his heap of flapping fish, and, turning, sent shoreward the cry always... more...

INTRODUCTION. My dear boys: "The Rover Boys in the Mountains" is a complete story in itself, but forms the sixth volume of the "Rover Boys Series for Young Americans." This series of books for wide-awake American lads was begun several years ago with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School." At that time the author had in mind to write not more than three volumes, relating... more...

CHAPTER I OFF FOR A SLEIGH-RIDE “What is the matter, Dave? You look rather mystified.” “I am mystified, Laura,” replied Dave Porter. “I have a letter here that I can’t understand at all.” “Whom is it from?” questioned Laura Porter, as she came closer to her brother, who was ensconced in the largest easy-chair the Wadsworth library contained. “It’s from a shopkeeper in Coburntown,... more...

The Grateful Indian, A Tale of Rupert’s Land. By William H.G. Kingston. We cannot boast of many fine evenings in old England—dear old England for all that!—and when they do come they are truly lovely and worthy of being prized the more. It was on one of the finest of a fine summer that Mr Frampton, the owner of a beautiful estate in Devonshire, was seated on a rustic bench in his garden, his son... more...

CHAPTER I THE CUB ENGINEERS REACH CAMP "Look, Tom! There is a real westerner!" Harry Hazelton's eyes sparkled, his whole manner was one of intense interest. "Eh?" queried Tom Reade, turning around from his distant view of a sharp, towering peak of the Rockies. "There's the real thing in the way of a westerner," Harry Hazelton insisted in a voice in which there was some... more...

The Story of Nelson. My great ambition as a boy was to be a sailor; the idea of becoming one occupied my thoughts by day and influenced my dreams by night. I delighted in reading naval histories and exploits and tales of the sea, and I looked upon Rodney, Howe, Nelson, and Saint Vincent, as well as Duncan, Collingwood, Exmouth, and Sir Sidney Smith, as far greater men, and more worthy of admiration,... more...

UNGAVA BOB I It was an evening in early September twenty years ago. The sun was just setting in a radiance of glory behind the dark spruce forest that hid the great unknown, unexplored Labrador wilderness which stretched away a thousand miles to the rocky shores of Hudson's Bay and the bleak desolation of Ungava. With their back to the forest and the setting sun, drawn up in martial line stood the... more...

THE EVERGREEN RIVER ON THE RAMPAGE "What's the latest weather report down at the post office, Max?" "More rain coming, they say, and everybody is as gloomy as a funeral." "My stars! the poor old town of Carson is getting a heavy dose this spring, for a fact; nothing but rain, rain, and then some more rain." "Never was anything to beat it, Bandy-legs, and they say even... more...

CHAPTER I THE BROKEN BRIDGE "Aren't you glad, Nan? Aren't you terrible glad?" "Why, of course I am, Flossie!" "And aren't you glad, too, Bert?" Flossie Bobbsey, who had first asked this question of her sister, now paused in front of her older brother. She looked up at him smiling as he cut away with his knife at a soft piece of wood he was shaping into a boat for... more...