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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CHAPTER I OVER THE 'PHONE Mrs. Forbes, Mr. Evringham's housekeeper, answered the telephone one afternoon. She was just starting to climb to the second story and did not wish to be hindered, so her "hello" had a somewhat impatient brevity. "Mrs. Forbes?" "Oh," with a total change of voice and face, "is that you, Mr. Evringham?" "Please send Jewel to the...
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Horatio Alger
CHAPTER I. THE POST OFFICE AT WAYNEBORO. "If we could only keep the post office, mother, we should be all right," said Herbert Carr, as he and his mother sat together in the little sitting room of the plain cottage which the two had occupied ever since he was a boy of five. "Yes, Herbert, but I am afraid there won't be much chance of it." "Who would want to take it from you,...
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John B. Greene
On the Pier. It was a gloomy evening. A small group of fishermen were standing—at the end of a rough wooden pier projecting out into the water and forming the southern side of the mouth of a small river. A thick mist, which drove in across the German Ocean, obscured the sky, and prevented any object being seen beyond a few hundred fathoms from the shore, on which the dark leaden-coloured waves broke...
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Oliver Optic
CHAPTER . MR. WITTLEWORTH GETS SHAVED. "Next gentleman!" said André Maggimore, one of the journeyman barbers in the extensive shaving saloon of Cutts & Stropmore, which was situated near the Plutonian temples of State Street, in the city of Boston. "Next gentleman!" repeated André, in tones as soft and feminine as those of a woman, when no one responded to his summons. "My...
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Walter Crane
BABY TED."Where did you get those eyes so blue?""Out of the sky as I came through."Christmas week a good many years ago. Not an "old-fashioned" Christmas this year, for there was no snow or ice; the sky was clear and the air pure, but yet without the sharp, bracing clearness and purity that Master Jack Frost brings when he comes to see us in one of his nice, bright, sunny...
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Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER I. INTRODUCING OUR HEROES. "Hip, hurrah! Hip, hurrah!" "Well, I declare; Mont Folsom, what is the matter with you?" "Matter? Nothing is the matter, Tom, only I'm going to a boarding school—just the best place on the face of the earth, too—Nautical Hall, on the seacoast." "Humph! I didn't know as how a boarding school was such a jolly place,"...
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Robert Barnes
CHAPTER I. THE HOUSE IN THE LANE. It stood not very far from the corner—the corner where the lane turned off from the high-road. And it suited its name, or its name suited it. It was such a pretty, cosy-looking house, much larger really than it seemed at the first glance, for it spread out wonderfully at the back. It was red too—the out-jutting front, where the deep porch was, looking specially...
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F. D. Bedford
In the present volume will be found twenty stories from early writers for children, the period being roughly 1790 to 1830, with three later and more sophisticated efforts added. Having so recently made remarks on the character of these old books—in the preface last year to Old-Fashioned Tales, a companion volume to this—I have very little to say now, except that I hope the selection will be found...
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Horatio Alger
CHAPTER I. SAM'S NEW CLOTHES. "If I'm goin' into a office I'll have to buy some new clo'es," thoughtSam Barker. He was a boy of fifteen, who, for three years, had been drifting about the streets of New York, getting his living as he could; now blacking boots, now selling papers, now carrying bundles—"everything by turns, and nothing long." He was not a model...
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Horatio Alger
CHAPTER I. THE TELEGRAM. "A telegram for you, Andy!" said Arthur Bacon, as he entered the room ofAndy Grant in Penhurst Academy. "A telegram!" repeated Andy, in vague alarm, for the word suggested something urgent—probably bad news of some kind. He tore open the envelope and read the few words of the message: "Come home at once. Something has happened. "MOTHER." "What...
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