Juvenile Fiction
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General Books
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CHAPTER I. RODNEY UNHAPPY IN A GOOD HOME. T was a lovely Sabbath morning in May, 1828, when two lads, the elder of whom was about sixteen years old, and the younger about fourteen, were wandering along the banks of a beautiful brook, called the Buttermilk Creek, in the immediate vicinity of the city of Albany, N. Y. Though there is no poetry in the name of this little stream, there is sweet music made...
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Jane Abbott
PROLOGUE A STORY BEFORE THE STORY On a green hillside a girl lay prone in the sweet grass, very still that she might not, by the slightest quiver, disturb the beauty that was about her. There was so very, very much beauty—the sky, azure blue overhead and paling where it touched the green-fringed earth; the whispering tree under which she lay, the lush meadow grass, moving like waves of a sea, the...
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Anonymous
I "I want to go home!" How many times in my life, I wonder, have these words come rushing up from the very bottom of my heart, tumbling everything out of the way, never listening to reason, never stopping for thought? How many times since that dreary afternoon in the great, big drawing-room at grandmamma's? And, oh dear me! what miserable heartache comes before that fearful want! Oh,...
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AN UNHERALDED CHAMPION Ted Turner lived at Freeman's Falls, a sleepy little town on the bank of a small New Hampshire river. There were cotton mills in the town; in fact, had there not been probably no town would have existed. The mills had not been attracted to the town; the town had arisen because of the mills. The river was responsible for the whole thing, for its swift current and foaming...
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MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF THE TEAM The boys looked at the Professor in amazement. They were too much excited and concerned at the new situation to be able to interpret what the sudden disappearance of their team meant. The Professor turned to the boys: "Are you sure the yaks were tied before we left them?" "I was particularly careful," answered Harry, "to tie both of them."...
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On the morning of the 15th of July, 1718, anyone who had been standing on the low rocks of the Penobscot bay shore might have seen a large, clumsy boat of hewn planking making its way out against the tide that set strongly up into the river mouth. She was loaded deep with a shifting, noisy cargo that lifted white noses and huddled broad, woolly backs—in fact, nothing less extraordinary than fifteen...
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Andrew Lang
The Arabian Nights In the chronicles of the ancient dynasty of the Sassanidae, who reigned for about four hundred years, from Persia to the borders of China, beyond the great river Ganges itself, we read the praises of one of the kings of this race, who was said to be the best monarch of his time. His subjects loved him, and his neighbors feared him, and when he died he left his kingdom in a more...
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Jimmy Rabbit wanted a new tail. To be sure, he already had a tail—but it was so short that he felt it was little better than none at all. Frisky Squirrel and Billy Woodchuck had fine, bushy tails; and so had all the other forest-people, except the Rabbit family. Jimmy had tried his hardest to get a handsome tail for himself. And once he had nearly succeeded. For he almost cut off Frisky...
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Wild Times. “Do I think it would be wise to put on a life-belt, Mr Lane?” “Yes.” The words were shouted into the ear of one of the speakers, and yelled back as, like others about the vessel, they clung to the side, now to be raised high, now to be plunged down again, as the Planet, with only a rag or two of storm canvas set, rode over a huge wave and seemed as if turned into some new and...
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THE RAINY DAY “I think it’s just horrid!” said Kristy, standing before the window, peering out into a world of drizzling rain. “Every single thing is ready and every girl promised to come, and now it has to go and rain; ’n’ I believe it’ll rain a week, anyway!” she added as a stronger gust dashed the drops against the glass. Kristy’s mother, who was sitting at her sewing-table at...
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