Children's periodicals Books

Chapter I. "The truth is, John," said Mr. Wilson to his brother, "I am troubled about my boy. Here it is the first of July, and he can't go back to school until the middle of September. He will be idle all that time, and I'm afraid he'll get into mischief. Now the other day I found him reading a wretched story about pirates. Why should a son of mine care to read about... more...

The kite fever visited Hagarstown every year, and caught all the boys over five before it subsided. It generally crept in slowly, a boy and a kite at a time; but this year it came as if a big wind brought it. Yesterday there had been three kites up at one time in the main street, and Squire Jones's pony had been scared into a canter. The Squire, and Mrs. Jones, and the three Misses Jones, and Aunt... more...

It was a terrific storm. The wind swept down the river, raising a ridge of white water in its path. The rain came down harder, so the boys thought, than they had ever seen it come down before, and the glare of the lightning and the crash of the thunder were frightful. "What luck it is that we got the tent pitched in time!" exclaimed Joe. "We're as dry and comfortable here as if we were... more...

The policeman did not return, and the boys slept until an hour after sunrise. They then rowed down the river to the steamboat landing, where they left their boat in charge of a boatman, and went to a hotel for breakfast. The waiters were rather astonished at the tremendous appetites displayed by the four sunburned boys, and there is no doubt that the landlord lost money that morning. After breakfast,... more...

CHAPTER VIII.—ESCAPE. When Elsie awoke in the morning, after at last falling into a dull, heavy sleep, she had not an opportunity of seeing what sort of weather it was. There was no light in their rude sleeping-place, except the dim one that came through the aperture from the other room. She listened, and hearing sounds of life below, she hastily rose, and creeping down the ladder, went in search of... more...

THE HOSTLER'S STORY. By J. T. Trowbridge. What amused us most at the Lake House last summer was the performance of a bear in the back yard. He was fastened to a pole by a chain, which gave him a range of a dozen or fifteen feet. It was not very safe for visitors to come within that circle, unless they were prepared for rough handling. He had a way of suddenly catching you to his bosom, and picking... more...

OLD FATHER TIME. "Professor," said May, turning on the sofa where she was lying, "Jack has brought me a calendar that runs for ever so many years. You know the doctor says I'll not be well for two whole years, or perhaps three. I have been wondering what month among them all I shall be able to run about in; and then I began to think who could have made the first calendar, and what led... more...

His real name is Wallace, but his mates always called him "Wally," and although he is now a big broad-shouldered young mariner, he is still pointed out as the "wreck-boy." One summer not long ago Wally sailed with me for a week out upon the blue waters across the bar after blue-fish, or among the winding tide-water creeks for sheep's-head, and it was then, by means of many... more...

III.—THE CHAMOIS-HUNTERS. Early the next morning the door of the little mountain cottage grated on its hinges, and Mr. Seymour entered the small apartment, eagerly welcomed by Walter, who ran forward to meet him. "What! you are up already, my boy, and as fresh and lively as if nothing had happened!" said he. "I fully expected to find you knocked up and ill after all the exertion and... more...

"I say, Tad Murray, what's made you so late with your cows this morning?" "Late? Well, I guess you'd be late if you'd had such a time as I did. It was all old Ben's fault." "Ben's? Why, there he is now, chasing the brindled heifer. If she'd only turn on him, she could pitch him over the fence like a forkful of hay." "He's a better cow-dog... more...