Frank in the Woods
Category： Author：Harry Castlemon
OUR scene opens in the swamp that stretches away for miles north of Lawrence.
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Category： Author：Harry Castlemon
OUR scene opens in the swamp that stretches away for miles north of Lawrence.
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Category： Author：Lucy Maud Montgomery
MRS. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies’ eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secret...
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Category： Author：novel
The words faded into a groan, and the tottering youth slumped to his knees, then pitched forward and sprawled out limply in the sandy trail.
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Category： Author：novel
The real trouble was that Jorgenson saw things as a business man does. But also, and contradictorily, he saw them as right and just, or as wrong and intolerable. As a business man, he should have kept his mind on business and never bothered about Ganti. As a believer in right and wrong, it would have been wiser for him to have stayed o...
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Category： Author：novel
The sound came from the exhaust pipe of the little steamer.
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Category： Author：novel
Petulantly Nancy Howard cast aside her letter and buried her chin in her cupped palms. “Oh, the woes of having a learned father!” she sighed. “Here is Joe’s letter, telling me how everything is starting up at home; and here am I, Nancy Howard, buried in this picturesque, polyglot wilderness, just because ...
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Category： Author：novel
Chip Merriwell, in running togs, had just taken a rail fence at a flying leap. As he dropped into the road beyond the fence, he halted suddenly and gave vent to a startled exclamation.
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Category： Author：novel
“Harvest is ended and summer is gone,” quoted Anne Shirley, gazing across the shorn fields dreamily. She and Diana Barry had been picking apples in the Green Gables orchard, but were now resting from their labors in a sunny corner, where airy fleets of thistledown drifted by on the wings of a wind that was still summe...
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Category： Author：novel
A tall, slim girl, “half-past sixteen,” with serious gray eyes and hair which her friends called auburn, had sat down on the broad red sandstone doorstep of a Prince Edward Island farmhouse one ripe afternoon in August, firmly resolved to construe so many lines of Virgil.
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Category： Author：novel
"Thanks be, I'm done with geometry, learning or teaching it," said Anne Shirley, a trifle vindictively, as she thumped a somewhat battered volume of Euclid into a big chest of books, banged the lid in triumph, and sat down upon it, looking at Diana Wright across the Green Gables garret, with gray eyes that were like a m...
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