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Category： Author：John Habberton
TRIXY was not a babe, for she had passed her seventh birthday and was as wise and irrepressible as the only child of a loving father and mother usually becomes. Her parents and relations continued to allude to her as "the baby," and they might still be doing so had not certain of her deeds checked them, and compelled them to restrict t...
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Category： Author：Robert Michael Ballantyne
Somewhere about the middle of this nineteenth century, a baby boy was born on the raging sea in the midst of a howling tempest. That boy was the hero of this tale.
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Category： Author：novel
It had been a long, wearisome day at the Free Kindergarten, and I was alone in the silent, deserted room. Gone were all the little heads, yellow and black, curly and smooth; the dancing, restless, curious eyes; the too mischievous, naughty, eager hands and noisy feet; the merry voices that had made the great room human, but now l...
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Category： Author：novel
They were consulting about it in the nursery. Mr. Bird said that he had assisted in naming the three boys, and that he should leave this matter entirely to Mrs. Bird; Donald wanted the child called "Dorothy," after a pretty, curly-haired girl who sat next him in school; Paul choose "Luella," for Luella was the...
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Category： Author：novel
Snythergen’s mother was poor—so poor that she did not feel able to support her baby boy. So she put him in a basket—it had to be a large one—and left it on the doorstep of a little old couple who had long wished for a child.
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Category： Author：novel
The baby came in the spring-time, and the soft, velvety touch of the little face, and the sight of the round baby limbs, had made Mrs. Mainwaring smile: had caused her to pluck up heart, and to determine resolutely to take this new blessing, and to begin to live again.
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Category： Author：novel
Nicholas Ribsam was a comical fellow from his earliest babyhood, and had an original way of doing almost everything he undertook.
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Category： Author：novel
If you are ever in Brooklyn, that borough of superb sunsets and magnificent vistas of husband-propelled baby-carriages, it is to be hoped you may chance upon a quiet by-street where there is a very remarkable bookshop.
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Category： Author：novel
Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo....
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Category： Author：novel
Whar\'s Hiram, Het?\' Deacon Zephaniah Winthrop asked of his wife, tartly. \'Pears to me that boy\'s allus off somewhar, whenever he\'s wanted to do anything. Can\'t git along without him, any way, when we\'ve got to weed the spring peppermint. Whar\'s he off, I say, Mehitabel?\'
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