CHAPTER I. Little Dot had lost her way in the bush. She knew it, and was very frightened. She was too frightened in fact to cry, but stood in the middle of a little dry, bare space, looking around her at the scraggy growths of prickly shrubs that had torn her little dress to rags, scratched her bare legs and feet till they bled, and pricked her hands and arms as she had pushed madly through the bushes, for hours, seeking her home. Sometimes she... more...

CHAPTER I Little Dot had lost her way in the bush. She knew it, and was very frightened. She was too frightened in fact to cry, but stood in the middle of a little dry, bare space, looking around her at the scraggy growths of prickly shrubs that had torn her little dress to rags, scratched her bare legs and feet till they bled, and pricked her hands and arms as she had pushed madly through the bushes, for hours, seeking her home. Sometimes she... more...

CHAPTER I THE SAME OLD TAVIA "She very probably will miss her train, we will miss her at the station, she will take a ride up with old Bill Mason, stay talking to him until dinner is too cold to wait any longer; then—then—well, she may steal in through a window and give you a midnight scare, just for a joke. That's my recollection of Miss Tavia." "Nat, you're too mean—Tavia is not always late, and she doesn't purposely upset... more...

AT THE CLEVERTON THE great hotel on the crest of the hill was bathed in sunlight that poured from a rift in the clouds, as if sent for the sole purpose of showing the grand portico, the broad piazza, and the flag that floated gracefully on the summer breeze. Its many windows seemed to be looking across the valley to opposite mountain peaks, and one could easily imagine that its wide, open doorway, smiled genially as if offering a welcome to all... more...

CHAPTER I. IN WHICH NONE OF THE CHARACTERS APPEAR.   HE door of the study was closed, and only Nero was to be seen. He, poor dog, stood in the wide hall gazing wistfully at the knob, and pricking up his ears whenever sounds of movement in the room aroused his hope of being admitted. Suddenly he gave a yelp of delight. Somebody surely was approaching the door. The steps—they were a man's—halted. There was a soft, rolling sound,... more...

CHAPTER I THE WOLF PATROL ELECTS A baseball rose gracefully in the air, carried on a way, and dropped. Three scouts back from a hike halted under the maple tree that bordered the village field, and unslung their haversacks. "Gee!" cried Fred Ritter. "Did you see Ted Carter make that catch?" "And did you see Tim Lally get that one?" demanded Wally Woods. Andy Ford grinned. "Ted's the boy to keep them working. Chester will have a real town... more...

CHAPTER I. THE WAY IT BEGAN. Nobody except Miss Lucy Armacost would have thought of starting an orphan asylum with one orphan. Even she might not have done it but for Molly Johns. As for Molly, she never dreamed of such a thing. She was just careering down the avenue one windy afternoon in early December, upon one roller skate, and Miss Lucy was just coming up the block, walking rather unsteadily upon her two small feet. The dear little old... more...

CHAPTER I. SOMETHING TO LOVE. "There, take that, and be off with you! And no dawdling, mind. It's ten minutes late, and you'll have to step it to be there by one. That's your dinner, and more than you deserve." Dick Crosby took the one thick slice she offered, slipped the handle of the tin of tea on his arm, and with the big basin, tied up in a blue handkerchief, in his other hand, marched off in the direction of the tin works, while... more...

CHAPTER I THE CHUMS "Come in!" The doctor's voice had a note of sternness which was not lost on the two boys waiting outside his study door. The taller of the two, Ned Barstow, turned the handle and stepped into the study, followed immediately by Dick Williams. The doctor, sitting behind his desk, looked decidedly uncompromising as he said: "Now, Barstow and Williams, you were absent from your room last night. Where were you?" "Camping in... more...

A WORD TO PARENTS. The story of “Dick Whittington and his Cat” has so often amused the little ones, who never wearied of its repetition, that the author of the following version thought she might extend the pleasure derived from it by putting it in language which they could read for themselves. No word contains more than four letters, and none is over one syllable in length, so that any child who has the least knowledge of reading... more...