Juvenile Fiction
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- Mysteries, Espionage, & Detective Stories 12
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Lifestyles Books
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CHAPTER I BILLY WRITES A LETTER Billy Neilson was eighteen years old when the aunt, who had brought her up from babyhood, died. Miss Benton's death left Billy quite alone in the world—alone, and peculiarly forlorn. To Mr. James Harding, of Harding & Harding, who had charge of Billy's not inconsiderable property, the girl poured out her heart in all its loneliness two days after the...
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by:
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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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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Maria Edgeworth
INTRODUCTION Maria Edgeworth came of a lively family which had settled in Ireland in the latter part of the sixteenth century. Her father at the age of five-and-twenty inherited the family estates at Edgeworthstown in 1769. He had snatched an early marriage, which did not prove happy. He had a little son, whom he was educating upon the principles set forth in Rousseau’s “Emile,” and a...
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CHAPTER I. AN ARITHMETICAL PUZZLE. A sunny and a dark head, both bent over a much-befigured, much-besmeared slate, the small brows beneath the curls puckered,—the one in perplexity, the other with sympathy; opposite these two a third head whose carrotty hue betrayed it to be Jim's, although the face appertaining thereto was hidden from my view, as its owner, upon his hands and knees, also peered...
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How Spring was Coming. “Hallo, old Yellowbill! what’s brought you out so early?” said a fine fat thrush, one bright spring morning, stopping for a moment to look at his companion, and leaving the great broken-shelled snail he had rooted out of the ivy bush curling about upon the gravel path. “Hallo, old Yellowbill! what’s brought you out so early?” “What’s that to you, old...
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Introduction Mrs. Fenwick, like Mrs. Turner (some of whose Cautionary Stories have already been published in this series), lived and wrote at the beginning of this century. Mrs. Turner practised verse, Mrs. Fenwick prose. I can tell nothing of Mrs. Fenwick's life, except that among her books were Infantine Stories, the Life of Carlo, Mary and her Cat, Presents for Good Boys and Girls, Rays from...
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by:
Thomas Bewick
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by:
L. T. Meade
CHAPTER I. NAN'S GOLDEN MANE. It was a perfect summer's evening. The sun had just set, and purple, gold, violet, rose colour still filled the sky in the west. There was a tender new moon, looking like a silver bow, also to be seen; before long the evening star would be visible. Hester Thornton stepped out of the drawing-room at the Grange, and, walking a little way down the broad gravel...
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by:
Vesper L. George
CHAPTER ONE The five McAlisters were gathered in the dining-room, one rainy night in late August. In view of the respective dimensions of the family circle and the family income, servants were few in the McAlister household, and division of labor was the order of the day. Old Susan had cleared away the table and brought in the lamp; then she retired to the kitchen, leaving the young people to...
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