Books with author Mary F. Nixon-Roulet

"Jean, Our Little Australian Cousin" by Mary F. Nixon-Roulet. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

Example in this ebookWashed by the blue Mediterranean and kissed by the warm southern sun, the Iberian Peninsula lies at the southwestern corner of Europe. To this sunny land of Spain we owe much, for, from its hospitable shores, aided by her generous queen, Columbus sailed to discover that New World which is to-day our home. We should therefore be very friendly to the country which helped him, and American boys and girls should welcome the coming of Our Little Spanish Cousin.To be continue in this ebook..................................................................................

Our Little Brazilian Cousin lives in a land not so well known as the countries of Europe and Asia, but one of great natural beauty and charm. Through it flows the greatest river of the world, the Amazon, whose banks are covered with rich tropical vegetation, most beautiful to behold. Its forests are full of birds of brilliant plumage and strange animals, while the Indians, who were once the only people here, are not yet all civilized. The Little Brazilian Cousins are nearly all descended from the Portuguese who came to this land, and made it their own, before it finally became a republic like the United States. They built many great cities, and have cultivated the country so that now it is becoming rich and powerful. With such a beautiful home, and with such advantages, our Little Brazilian Cousin will soon become one of the most important of all the little cousins, as he is now one of the most picturesque and interesting.

Our Little Brazilian Cousin by Mary F. Nixon-RouletProbably the most important of the South American republics, Brazil has now won for herself world recognition and esteem. Though Costa Rica, Cuba, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Panama made formal declarations of war against the German Empire, Brazil alone was able to offer material service. Each brave ally offered her all to the cause of freedom, from the great navy and army, the brains, brawn, and resources of the British Empire, to the little army of three hundred men from the tiny principality of thirty-eight square miles, San Marino. Brazil's offering was her splendid navy, which did signal patrol service and was a valued reserve.We can be certain that two great nations, large and small brothers of the Western Hemisphere, the United States and Brazil, brought together in the fellowship of such a great cause, will ever show their mutual admiration, and keep bright their friendship. Our Little Brazilian Cousin lives in a land not so well known as the countries of Europe and Asia, but one of great natural beauty and charm.Through it flows the greatest river of the world, the Amazon, whose banks are covered with rich tropical vegetation, most beautiful to behold. Its forests are full of birds of brilliant plumage and strange animals, while the Indians, who were once the only people here, are not yet all civilized.The Little Brazilian Cousins are nearly all descended from the Portuguese who came to this land, and made it their own, before it finally became a republic like the United States. They built many great cities, and have cultivated the country so that now it is becoming rich and powerful.With such a beautiful home, and with such advantages, our Little Brazilian Cousin will soon become one of the most important of all the little cousins, as he is now one of the most picturesque and interesting.

Zoe sat in the doorway tending baby Domna as she lay asleep in her cradle. She was sleeping quietly, as any child should who has the cross on her cradle for good luck. Her skin was as white as milk, and this was because Zoe had taken care of her Marti. On the first day of March she had tied a bit of red ribbon about her little cousin’s wrist, for a charm. The keen March winds could not hurt the baby after that, nor could she have freckles nor sunburn. Early on the morning of April first, Zoe had dressed the baby and carried her out of doors. The dew lay over the flowers, the sun was just up, and his rosy beams turned the blossoming lemon trees to beauty. Zoe had sought the nearest garden and there hung the Marti on a rose bush, plucking a rose and pinning it to Domna’s cap. "Now, Babycoula," she had said, clapping her hands, "you shall have luck. Your Marti is upon a rose bush kissed with dew before the sun is high. The summer’s heat shall not touch you and you shall be cool and well." It was fortunate for Zoe as well as for the "Joy," which the Greek word for baby means, that Domna was a quiet baby. As most of the little girl’s time was taken up with caring for one or another of her aunt’s children, when they were cross it left her but little time for thinking and dreaming. Zoe’s thoughts were often sad ones, but her dreams were rose-coloured. When the little girl thought, she remembered the home she had once had. It was far in the sunny south where lemon groves lifted golden-fruited arms to the soft winds, and hillsides gleamed with purple and white currants.

A part of the great Austrian Empire, Hungary, is a kingdom in itself, with its own laws and its own government. Through this land runs the "beautiful blue Danube," with castles and towns upon its wooded banks; on one side the mountains, on the other the Great Plains. Here dwell many races with quaint customs and quainter costumes, and it is of these people that you will read in Our Little Hungarian Cousin.

What a wonderful time he had that day! First came the christening in the great Cathedral which towers above Granada, and in which lie buried the king and queen, Ferdinand and Isabella, in whose reign Columbus sailed away from Spain to discover America. The Cathedral was so grand that it always made Fernando feel very strange and quiet, and he thought it was shocking that the baby cried when the priest poured water on her and baptized her, Maria Dolores Concepcion Isabel Inez Juanita. This seems a long name for such a tiny little mite, but there was a reason for every single name, and not one could be left out. Nearly all Spanish children are named Maria, whether boys or girls, because the Spaniards are devoted to the Virgin Mary, and as the baby was born on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, she was called Concepcion. Isabel was for her aunt, and Inez was for her godmother, and Juanita for her father. Her name did not seem at all long to Fernando, for his name was Fernando Antonio Maria Allegria Francisco Ruy Guzman y Ximenez. Every one called him Fernando or Nando, and his long name had troubled him but once in all his gay little life. That time he had been naughty and had run away from his aya, the nurse who always watches little Spanish children like a faithful dog, and he had fallen into the deep ditch beside the great aloe hedge. The aloes are stalwart plants with long leaves, wide-extending and saw-toothed, and they are often planted close together so as to make hedgerows through which cattle cannot pass. The leaves of the aloe are sometimes a yard long, and they are very useful. From them are made strong cords, and also the alpagatas, or sandals, which the peasants wear; and the fibres of the leaf are separated from the pulp and made into many things to wear. The central stem of the aloe grows sometimes twenty feet high, and it has a number of stems on the ends of which grow yellow flowers. The leaves are a bluish-green in colour, and look like long blue swords. The long hedgerows look very beautiful against the soft blue of the Spanish sky, but little Fernando did not see anything pretty in them as he lay at the bottom of the ditch, roaring lustily.

Fergus and Jean were very tired of the long voyage. They stood at the taffrail looking over the dancing waves, longing for the sight of land. "It seems as if we would never get there, Father," said Fergus. "How long it is since we left home!" "And how far away Scotland seems," sighed his mother, as she took little Jean on her lap and stroked her fair hair. "But Australia is to be our home now," said Mr. Hume cheerfully. "See, there is the very first glimpse of it," and he pointed across the water to a dim line, as the look-out called "Land!"