Books with author Margaret Penrose

"He, he, he!" giggled Tavia."What is the matter now, child?" demanded Dorothy Dale, haughtily. "There are no 'hes' in this lane. The road is empty before us——""And the world would be, too, if it wasn't for the possible 'hes' that are to come into our lives," quoth Tavia, with shocking frankness."You talk like a cave girl," declared her chum. "Is there nothing on your mind but boys?""Yes'm! More boys!" chuckled Tavia. "It is June. The bridal-wreath is in bloom. If 'In spring the young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love,' can't our girls' fancies turn in June to thoughts of white lace veils, shoes that pinch your feet horribly—and can't we dream of hobbling up to the altar to the sound of Mendelssohn's march?""Hobble to the haltar, you mean," sniffed Dorothy, with her best suffragette air."How smart!" crowed her chum. "But you2 mustn't blame me for giggling this morning—you mustn't!""Why not? What particular excuse have you?"

Dorothy Dale is the daughter of an old Civil War veteran who is running a weekly newspaper in a small Eastern town. Her sunny disposition, her fun-loving ways and her trials and triumphs make clean, interesting and fascinating reading.The Dorothy Dale series was published by the Stratemeyer Syndicate under the house pseudonym Margaret Penrose. This was Stratemeyer's first 'Girls Series'. "Dorothy Dale in the West" is the tenth book in the series.

"Of all things, to have that happen just now! Isn't it too mean!" sighed Dorothy, perching herself on the high shelf at the side of the pump, and gazing dejectedly beyond the wire fence into the pigeon loft, where a few birds posed in real "Oh fair dove, Oh, fond dove!" fashion."Mean?" repeated Tavia, who was inside the wire fence, calling live birds, and looking for dead ones, both of which efforts were proving failures. "It is awful, Dorothy, such a doings as this. They are gone, sure enough," and she crawled through the low gate that was intended as an emergency exit for chickens or pigeons. "I'd just like to know who took them," she finished."So would I," and Dorothy shook her blonde head with a meaning clearer than mere words might impart. "Yes, I would like to know, and I've just a notion of finding out."2 Tavia reached for the clean little drinking pan that rested on the shelf at Dorothy's elbow. She held it under the pump spout while Dorothy worked the pump handle up and down. Then, with the fresh water in her hand, Tavia crawled inside the wire enclosure again. A few tame bantams flew across the yard to the treat. Then the doves left their perch and joined the party around the pan."How lonely they look without the others," remarked Dorothy, as she, too, crept through the wire gate. "And I did love the Archangels. I never saw prettier doves. They always reminded me of real Paradise birds. No wonder they were called by a heavenly name.""And to have taken both pairs!" denounced Tavia. "My favorites were the fantails—they always made me think of—What do you think?""Think? I know."

The train started a second after the two almost breathless girls entered the half-empty chair car. They came in with a rush, and barely found their seats and got settled in them before the easily rolling train had pulled clear of the station and the yards."Back to dear old Glenwood School, Doro!" cried Tavia Travers, fairly hugging her more sober companion. "How do you feel about it?""De-lighted, Miss," laughed Dorothy Dale. "After our trying experiences in New York——Well! a country life is strenuous enough for me, I guess.""But we did have some fun, Doro. And how we got the best of that hateful Akerson man! I just hate that fellow. I could beat him!""Your feeling is not scriptural," groaned Dorothy,2 though her eyes twinkled. "Don't you know, if you are struck on one cheek you should turn the other also?""But suppose you're hit on the nose?" demanded Tavia. "One hasn't two noses!""Well, Aunt Winnie is well rid of that Akerson," said Dorothy, with a little sigh of satisfaction."And your cousins, Ned and Nat, have you to thank for the salvation of their income," returned Tavia."Us, you mean," laughed Dorothy. "You had more to do with the showing up of that real estate agent than I had, Tavia.""Nonsense—— Oh, here's the station where the girls may join us. Do let me open that window, Doro! I don't care if it is cold outsid