Juvenile Fiction
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Holidays & Celebrations Books
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THE THIN SANTA CLAUS Mrs. Gratz opened her eyes and looked out at the drizzle that made the Christmas morning gray. Her bed stood against the window, and it was easy for her to look out; all she had to do was to roll over and pull the shade aside. Having looked at the weather she rolled again on to the broad flat of her back and made herself comfortable for awhile, for there was no reason why she...
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I. A cabin. A cabin in the woods. In the cabin a great fireplace piled high with logs, fiercely ablaze. On either side of the broad hearthstone a hound sat on his haunches, looking gravely, as only a hound in a meditative mood can, into the glowing fire. In the center of the cabin, whose every nook and corner was bright with the ruddy firelight, stood a wooden table, strongly built and solid. At the...
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Leona Dalrymple
Uncle Noah's Christmas Inspiration I The twilight of a Christmas Eve, gray with the portent of coming snow, crept slowly over the old plantation of Brierwood, softening the outlines of a decrepit house still rearing its roof in massive dignity and a tumbledown barn flanked by barren fields. A quiet melancholy hovered about the old house as if it brooded over a host of bygone Yuletides alive with...
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That was the message that came to me from an editor last December just as I was going on a journey. Why he sent it to me I don't know. Perhaps it was because, when I was a little chap, my home was way up toward that white north where even the little boys ride in sleds behind reindeer, as they are the only horses they have. Perhaps it was because when I was a young lad I knew Hans Christian...
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CHAPTER I WHICH SHALL SPEAK FIRST? Ronald West stood at the window of his wife's sitting-room, looking across the bright garden-borders to the wide park beyond, and wondering how on earth he should open the subject of which his mind had been full during their morning ride. He had swung off his own horse a few moments before; thrown the bridle to a waiting groom, and made his way round to her...
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A TOAST TO SANTA CLAUSWhene'er I find a man who don'tBelieve in Santa Claus,And spite of all remonstrance won'tYield up to logic's laws,And see in things that lie aboutThe proof by no means dim,I straightway cut that fellow out,And don't believe in him.The good old Saint is everywhereAlong life's busy way.We find him in the very airWe breathe day after dayâWhere...
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I Now the day of the birth of our Lord dawned that year grey and dreary, and a Saturday. But, despite the weather, in the town at the foot of the hill there was rejoicing, as befitted so great a festival. The day before a fat steer had been driven to the public square and there dressed and trussed for the roasting. The light of morning falling on his carcass revealed around it great heaps of fruits and...
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Henry Van Dyke
THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL It was the hour of rest in the Country Beyond the Stars. All the silver bells that swing with the turning of the great ring of light which lies around that land were softly chiming; and the sound of their commotion went down like dew upon the golden ways of the city, and the long alleys of blossoming trees, and the meadows of asphodel, and the curving shores of the River of Life. At...
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Fanny Y. Cory
SONNYA CHRISTMAS GUEST A boy, you say, doctor? An' she don't know it yet? Then what 're you tellin' me for? No, sir—take it away. I don't want to lay my eyes on it till she's saw it—not if I am its father. She's its mother, I reckon! Better lay it down somew'eres an' go to her—not there on the rockin'-cheer, for somebody to set on—'n'...
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Leona Dalrymple
I Polly, the Doctor's old white mare, plodded slowly along the snowy country road by the picket fence, and turned in at the snow-capped posts. Ahead, roofed with the ragged ermine of a newly-fallen snow, the Doctor's old-fashioned house loomed gray-white through the snow-fringed branches of the trees, a quaint iron lantern, which was picturesque by day and luminous and cheerful by night,...
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