Juvenile Fiction
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Girls & Women Books
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CHAPTER I THEIR GREATEST, DEAREST DAY “And at this time next week we’ll all be back at work,” sighed Arline Thayer. “Not that I love work less, but the Sempers more,” she paraphrased half apologetically. “It’s been so perfectly splendid to gather home, and Elfreda was a darling to plan and carry out such a——” “Noble enterprise,” drawled Emma Dean. “Behold in me a living...
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HER TWELFTH BIRTHDAY "Oh, Tarbaby! Everybody has forgotten that it is my birthday! Even Papa Jack has gone off to town without saying a word about it, and he nevah did such a thing befo' in all his life!" As she spoke, the Little Colonel put her arm around her pony's neck, and for a moment her fair little head was pressed disconsolately against its velvety black mane. "It...
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The four children were lying on the grass. "... and the Prince went further and further into the forest," said the elder girl, "till he came to a beautiful glade—a glade, you know, is a place in the forest that is open and green and lovely. And there he saw a lady, a beautiful lady, in a long white dress that hung down to her ankles, with a golden belt and a golden crown. She was lying on...
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CHAPTER I. "Kate," said Aunt Deborah to me as we sat with our feet on the fender one rainy afternoon—or, as we were in London, I should say one rainy morning—in June, "I think altogether, considering the weather and what not, it would be as well for you to give up this Ascot expedition, my dear." I own I felt more than half inclined to cry—most girls would have cried—but Aunt...
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MARGARET'S DREAM FRIEND "Margaret Anstruther! Margaret Anstruther! Margaret Anstruther!" It was a sultry afternoon in early July. The sun was shining out of a cloudless blue sky, the air was so still and so overpoweringly hot that it seemed to have sent every living creature, save the owner of the voice that was calling upon Margaret Anstruther, to sleep, for no answer was returned to the...
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CHAPTER I. "MONEY, MONEY!""Shoe the horse and shoe the mare,And let the little colt go bare."East or West, it matters not where—the story may, doubtless, indicate something of latitude and longitude as it proceeds—in the city of Mishaumok, lived Henderson Gartney, Esq., one of those American gentlemen of whom, if she were ever canonized, Martha of Bethany must be the patron...
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by:
Temple Bailey
CHAPTER I THE JUDGE AND JUDY There was a plum-tree in the orchard, all snow and ebony against a sky of sapphire. Becky Sharp, perched among the fragrant blossoms, crooned soft nothings to herself. Under the tree little Anne lay at full length on the tender green sod and dreamed daydreams. "Belinda," she said to her great white cat, "Belinda, if we could fly like Becky Sharp, we would all go...
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THE LAST EVENING AT HOME "Now, then, everyone join in the chorus," commanded Hippy Wingate. There was an answering tinkle from Reddy's mandolin, the deeper notes of a guitar sounded, then eight care-free young voices were raised in the plaintive chorus of "My Old Kentucky Home." It was a warm night in September. Miriam Nesbit and seven of the Eight Originals were spending a last...
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by:
Lilian Garis
CHAPTER I JOYS AND JOY RIDING "Next to a honeymoon I think a vacation out in Bellaire is about the best," decided Grace. "And, pray, what is your idea of a honeymoon?" inquired Cleo. "Well, it's something like a trip to Europe in one way, because it's hard to arrange; that is, a real honeymoon is, and it's almost as thrilling because it's so entirely different....
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The Ugly Duckling. Pixie O’Shaughnessy was at once the joy and terror of the school. It had been a quiet, well-conducted seminary before her time, or it seemed so, at least, looking back after the arrival of the wild Irish tornado, before whose pranks the mild mischief of the Englishers was as water unto wine. Pixie was entered in the school-lists as “Patricia Monica de Vere O’Shaughnessy,” but...
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