The Manor "Five hundred faces, and all so strange!Life in front of me—home behind,I felt like a waif before the windTossed on an ocean of shock and change. "Chorus. Yet the time may come, as the years go by,When your heart will thrillAt the thought of the Hill,And the day that you came so strange and shy." The train slid slowly out of Harrow station. Five minutes before, a man and a boy had been walking up and down the long platform.... more...

THE HILL CHAPTER I THE MANOR   "Five hundred faces, and all so strange!    Life in front of me—home behind,    I felt like a waif before the wind  Tossed on an ocean of shock and change.   "Chorus. Yet the time may come, as the years go by,    When your heart will thrill    At the thought of the Hill,  And the day that... more...

THE WISE GRASSHOPPER "Come, Billy!" Billy dropped his tin-soldier on the ground and ran in to help his mother wipe the dishes. She gave him a nice, fresh towel and he began to rub the tin plates as fast as he could. He never put one down until he could see himself in it. As for the tin cups, his mother sometimes thought he would rub them entirely away! But he never did quite that. You see, Billy's mother allowed him to dry only the tin dishes... more...

I.  HIGH AND DRY. A gallant ship, some three feet in length, with full equipment of white sails and sturdy masts, rigging, pennon, and figurehead; but it had never seen the sea—never!  It had “cast anchor” nearly a year before my story begins in the Leslies’ nursery—a very pleasant, airy room, with nice pictures on the wall and a good many toys scattered about, but certainly not the very least resembling... more...

PONY’S MOTHER, AND WHY HE HAD A RIGHT TO RUN OFF If there was any fellow in the Boy’s Town fifty years ago who had a good reason to run off it was Pony Baker. Pony was not his real name; it was what the boys called him, because there were so many fellows who had to be told apart, as Big Joe and Little Joe, and Big John and Little John, and Big Bill and Little Bill, that they got tired of telling boys apart that way; and after one of... more...

Preface. The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic’s is a story of public-school life, and was written for the Boy’s Own Paper, in the Fourth Volume of which it appeared. The numbers containing it are now either entirely out of print or difficult to obtain; and many and urgent have been the requests—from boys themselves, as well as from parents, head masters, and others—for its re-issue as a book. Of the story itself little need... more...

CHAP. I. In the year 1807 there stood on the beautiful banks of the river Esk, in Dumfriesshire, one of the most southern counties in Scotland, a small cottage. The neat white walls, well-thatched roof, and clean casement-windows, ornamented as they were with honeysuckles and roses, attracted the admiration of a few strangers, who, from the uncommon beauty and grandeur of the scenery, were tempted to turn off the direct road from Langholm to... more...

CHAPTER I In a deep wooded valley in the north of Devon stands the village of Ashacombe. It is but a little village, of some twenty or thirty cottages with white cob walls and low thatched roofs, running along the sunny side of the valley for a little way, and then curving downward across it to a little bridge of two tiny pointed arches, on the other side of which stands a mill with a water-wheel. For a little stream runs down this valley as... more...

Chapter One. Two Men and a Boy. “Steady there! Stop! Hold hard!” “What’s the matter, Mr Dale?” “Matter, Saxe, my boy? Well, this. I undertook to take you back to your father and mother some day, sound in wind and limb; but if you begin like that, the trip’s over, and we shall have to start back for England in less than a week—at least, I shall, with my luggage increased by a case containing... more...

Chapter I The beginning—My early life and character—I thirst for adventure in foreign lands, and go to sea. Roving has always been, and still is, my ruling passion, the joy of my heart, the very sunshine of my existence. In childhood, in boyhood, and in man's estate, I have been a rover; not a mere rambler among the woody glens and upon the hilltops of my own native land, but an enthusiastic rover throughout the length and breadth... more...