Juvenile Fiction
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Girls & Women Books
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CHAPTER I ELOQUENT "Father, what d'you think we'd better call him?" Mrs Gallup asked, when the baby was a week old; "have you thought of a name?" "I've fixed on a name," her husband replied, triumphantly. "The child shall be called Eloquent." "Eloquent," Mrs Gallup repeated, dubiously. "That's a queer name, isn't it? 'Tisn't...
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CHAPTER I Walking slowly down a broad stairway, a girl carried three old silver candlesticks in her hands. And although the hallway was in semi-darkness, the candles had not yet been lighted. It was a cold November afternoon and the great house was chill and silent. Entering the drawing room, she placed the candles upon the mantelpiece. Her breath was like a small gray cloud before her; and her dress,...
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Alice B. Emerson
“HERE COMES THE BRIDE” The sudden joyous pealing of the organ could be heard upon the sidewalk before the stately church. As there was a broad canopy from the door to the curb, with a carpet laid down and motor-cars standing in line, it took no seer to proclaim that a wedding was in progress within. Idlers halted to wait for the appearance of the wedding party, which was about to come forth. Some...
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Laura Lee Hope
CHAPTER I ANTICIPATIONS Three girls were strolling down the street, and, as on the occasion when the three fishermen once sailed out to sea, the sun was going down. The golden rays, slanting in from over the western hills that stood back of the little town of Deepdale, struck full in the faces of the maids as they turned a corner, and so bright was the glare that one of them—a tall, willowy lass,...
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John Goss
THE WANDERER Blue Bonnet put her head out of the car window for the hundredth time that hour, and drew it back with a sigh of utter exasperation. "Uncle Cliff," she declared impatiently, "if The Wanderer doesn't move a little faster I'll simply have to get out and push!" "Better blame the engine, Honey," said Uncle Cliff in his slow, soothing way. "The Wanderer is...
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THE CAMP IN THE FOREST “Wohelo—wohelo—wo-he-lo!” The clear, musical call, rising from the green tangle of the forest that fringed the bay, seemed to float lingeringly above the treetops and out over the wide stretch of gleaming water, to a girl in a green canoe, who listened intently until the last faint echo died away, then began paddling rapidly towards the wooded slope. The sun, just...
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L. T. Meade
EARLY DAYS. The three girls were called after flowers. This is how it came about: When Primrose opened her eyes on the world she brought back a little bit of spring to her mother's heart. Mrs. Mainwaring had gone through a terrible trouble—a trouble so dark and mysterious, so impossible to feel reconciled to, that her health had been almost shattered, and she had almost said good-bye to hope....
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