Juvenile Fiction
- Action & Adventure 179
- Animals 188
- Biographical 1
- Boys / Men 133
- Classics 1
- Fairy Tales & Folklore 11
- Family 123
- 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:
Susan Warner
Chapter I. A single cloud on a sunny day When all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear, When skies are blue and earth is gay. Byron. Come, dear grandpa!—the old mare and the wagon are at the gate—all ready." "Well, dear!"—responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I haven't got my...
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Oliver Optic
PROUD AND LAZY. I. Tommy Woggs was a funny little boy. He was very proud and very lazy. He seemed to think he was a great man, and that other people lived only to serve and obey him. None of the boys and girls liked him, because he used to order them round, and because he thought himself so much better than they were. Tommy's father was a doctor, and a rich man. He could afford to have servants to...
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Arlo Bates
I. It was certainly not strange that Prince Vance was so stupefied with astonishment that he sat for a full half-hour foolishly staring before him, without an effort to move a muscle or to stir from his seat. Indeed, it is probable that any other prince in the same circumstances would have been equally struck dumb with amazement,—as any one may see who will attend while I go back to the beginning,...
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Helen Ashe Hays
CHAPTER I Of all the illustrious families who have shone like gems upon the earth's surface, none have been more distinguished in their way than the Lazybones family; and were I so disposed I might recount their virtues and trace their talents from a long-forgotten period. But interesting as the study might prove, it would be a difficult task, and the attention I crave for Prince Leo would be...
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John Gilbert
FANNY'S BIRTHDAY. Here is a nice new book! It is mine. Papa has just given it to me, for this is my birth-day, and I am five years old. Oh, how pretty it is! Here are boys and girls at play, like Willie and me; and here is nurse, with baby on her knee. They will call me a dunce if I do not learn to read well, so I will try my very best; for what is the use of a nice book like this, if I cannot...
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Oliver Optic
CHAPTER I. "Give me a flounder, Johnny?" said a little girl of eleven, dressed in coarse and ragged garments, as she stooped down and looked into the basket of the dirty young fisherman, who sat with his legs hanging over the edge of the pier. "I'll bet I won't," replied Johnny, gruffly, as he drew the basket out of the reach of the supplicant. "You needn't come round...
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KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN. It is an advantage for an author to have known many places and different sorts of people, though the most vivid impressions are commonly those received in childhood and youth. Mrs. Wiggin, as she is known in literature, was Kate Douglas Smith; she was born in Philadelphia, and spent her young womanhood in California, but when a very young child she removed to Hollis in the State of...
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by:
Anonymous
LITTLE JANE AND THE POOR MAN. This is little Jane Anderson and her sister. They have been out this morning to take a walk. As they were coming home they saw a poor man lying upon the ground. He was lame, and unable to walk. Jane and her sister felt very sorry for him, and when they were about leaving they gave him a few pennies which they had in their bags.—This was very kind in the little girls. We...
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by:
Anonymous
“Why, Phebe, are you come so soon,Where are your berries, child?You cannot, sure, have sold them all,You had a basket pil’d.”“No, mother, as I climb’d the fence,The nearest way to town,My apron caught upon a stake,And so I tumbled down.“I scratched my arm, and tore my hair,But still did not complain;And had my blackberries been safe,Should not have cared a grain.Phebe and her Mother.“But...
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by:
James Durden
My early days at home. Brother Jack, a seaman’s bag over his shoulders, trudged sturdily ahead; father followed, carrying the oars, spars, sails, and other gear of the wherry, while as I toddled alongside him I held on with one hand to the skirt of his pea-jacket, and griped the boat-hook which had been given to my charge with the other. From the front of the well-known inn, the “Keppel’s...
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