Juvenile Fiction
- Action & Adventure 179
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- Biographical 1
- Boys / Men 133
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- Fairy Tales & Folklore 11
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- General 262
- Girls & Women 187
- Historical 141
- Holidays & Celebrations 72
- Humorous Stories 2
- Imagination & Play 3
- Legends, Myths, & Fables 48
- Lifestyles
- Mysteries, Espionage, & Detective Stories 12
- Nature & the Natural World 3
- Religious 81
- School & Education 127
- Science Fiction, Fantasy, & Magic 12
- Short Stories 6
- Sports & Recreation 31
- Toys, Dolls, & Puppets 10
- Transportation 44
Lifestyles Books
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by:
Oscar Wilde
CHAPTER 1 The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn. From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could...
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by:
Susan Coolidge
A TALK ON THE DOORSTEPS. t was one of those afternoons in late April which are as mild and balmy as any June day. The air was full of the chirps and twitters of nest-building birds, and of sweet indefinable odors from half-developed leaf-buds and cherry and pear blossoms. The wisterias overhead were thickly starred with pointed pearl-colored sacs, growing purpler with each hour, which would be flowers...
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by:
Ouida
CHAPTER I. Bébée sprang out of bed at daybreak. She was sixteen. It seemed a very wonderful thing to be as much as that—sixteen—a woman quite. A cock was crowing under her lattice. He said how old you are!—how old you are! every time that he sounded his clarion. She opened the lattice and wished him good day, with a laugh. It was so pleasant to be woke by him, and to think that no one in all...
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by:
Susan Coolidge
ON THE "EOLUS." T was on one of the cool, brilliant days which early June brings to the Narragansett country, that the steamer "Eolus" pushed out from Wickford Pier on her afternoon trip to Newport. The sky was of a beautiful translucent blue; the sunshine had a silvery rather than a golden radiance. A sea-wind blew up the Western Passage, so cool as to make the passengers on the upper...
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by:
Unknown
THE FOX AND THE COCK. A Fox, one day, saw a Cock on the roof of a barn. “Come to me, my dear Master Cock,” said he; “I have always heard you are such a clever fellow; and I want to ask you a riddle.” Glad to hear himself praised, the foolish Cock came down, and the Fox caught him, and ate him in a moment. The praise of the wicked is always dangerous. A Dwarf one day met a Giant. “Let me come...
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by:
Susan Coolidge
It wanted but five minutes to twelve in Miss Fitch's schoolroom, and a general restlessness showed that her scholars were aware of the fact. Some of the girls had closed their books, and were putting their desks to rights, with a good deal of unnecessary fuss, keeping an eye on the clock meanwhile. The boys wore the air of dogs who see their master coming to untie them; they jumped and quivered,...
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by:
Sarah Tytler
CAIN'S BRAND I.—ON THE MOOR. CAIN'S BRAND! that is no fact of the far past, no legend of the Middle Ages, for are there not Cains among us; white-faced, haggard-featured Cains to the last? Men who began with a little injury, and did not dream that their gripe would close in deadly persecution? Cains who slew the spirit, and through the spirit murdered the body? Cains unintentionally, whom...
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Chapter I: The House by the Bridge. "Holy Church has never forbidden it," said John Clarke, with a very intent look upon his thoughtful, scholar's face. A young man who stood with his elbow on the mantelshelf, his eye fixed eagerly on the speaker's face, here broke in with a quick impetuosity of manner, which seemed in keeping with his restless, mobile features, his flashing dark...
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by:
Amy Walton
Easney Vicarage. Quite close to the nursery window at Easney Vicarage there grew a very old pear-tree. It was so old that the ivy had had time to hug its trunk with strong rough arms, and even to stretch them out nearly to the top, and hang dark green wreaths on every bough. Some day, the children had been told, this would choke the life out of the tree and kill it; that would be a pity, but there...
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by:
Hannah More
BLACK GILES THE POACHER: CONTAINING SOME ACCOUNT OF A FAMILYWHO HAD RATHER LIVE BY THEIR WITS THAN THEIR WORK BY HANNAH MORE. This story exhibits an accurate picture of that part of the country where the author then resided; and where, by her benevolent zeal, a great reformation was effected among the poor inhabitants of at least twenty parishes, within a circle of thirty miles. Poaching Giles lives...
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