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Roy Blakeley's Motor Caravan by Percy Keese FitzhughGee whiz, whenever I see that fellow Harry Domicile, I know there’s going to be a lot of fun. Just the same as I can always tell if we’re going to have mince turnovers for dessert. That’s one thing I’m crazy about—mince turnovers. I can tell when I go through the kitchen if we’re going to have them, because our cook has a kind of a look on her face. I can eat five of those things at a sitting, but that isn’t saying how many I can eat standing up. Pee-wee Harris can eat seven, even while he’s talking at the same time. Anyway, that hasn’t got anything to do with Harry Donnelle.Maybe you’re wondering why I named this chapter “Some Expedition.” If it was about Pee-wee Harris, I’d name it “Some Exhibition,” because that kid is a regular circus. So now I guess I’ll tell you.One afternoon I was sitting on the railing of our porch taking a rest after mowing the lawn. I was thinking how it would be a good idea if they had lawn mowers that run by gas engines. We’ve got a great big lawn at our house. At Doc Carson’s house they have a little bit of a lawn—he’s lucky. Gee whiz, you could cut that lawn with a safety razor.All of a sudden I saw Harry Donnelle coming up the street. I guess maybe you know who he is, because we had some adventures with him in other stories. He’s a big fellow, I guess he’s about twenty-five. He was a lieutenant in the war. My sister likes him a lot only she said I mustn’t say so in a story. I should worry about her. He comes up to our house a lot. Believe me, that fellow’s middle name is adventure. He says all his ancestors were crazy about adventures. He says he wouldn’t have any ancestors unless they were. He says that’s why he picked them out. Gee williger, you ought to hear him jollying Pee-wee. He told Pee-wee that once he lived in obscurity and Pee-wee wanted to know where that was. Can you beat that? Harry told him it was in Oregon. Good night!

A Fair Mystery - The Story of a CoquetteCharlotte Mary Brame (usually known as Charlotte M. Brame, last name sometimes mistakenly given as Braeme; appeared under pseudonyms in America, notably Bertha M. Clay, and was sometimes identified by the name of her most famous novel, Dora Thorne) (November 1, 1836 - November 25, 1884) was an English novelist.Her stories appeared in popular weekly publications such as Bow Bells, the London Reader, and the Family Herald. She was incredibly prolific, writing somewhere in the region of 130 novels during her lifetime. Charlotte Brame's fiction was invariably set in English country houses... Against this milieu, she reworked the theme of love in all of its multifarious aspects—old love, young love, jealousy, suspicion, misalliance, and improvident marriage. High morals such as honour, a sense of duty, and self-sacrifice are lauded as the greatest of virtues. The books also contain strong descriptive passages, some of which are drawn from her associations with Leicestershire... Her literary endeavours, in a male-dominated field, her works of charity, and her personal stamina and resilience, in the face of family tragedy and ill health, represent a triumph in adversity.

The Count of the Saxon Shore by Alfred John Church“Count of the Saxon Shore” was a title bestowed by Maximian (colleague of Diocletian in the Empire from 286 to 305 A.D.) on the officer whose task it was to protect the coasts of Britain and Gaul from the attacks of the Saxon pirates. It appears to have existed down to the abandonment of Britain by the Romans.So little is known from history about the last years of the Roman occupation that the writer of fiction has almost a free hand. In this story a novel, but, it is hoped, not an improbable, view is taken of an important event—the withdrawal of the legions. This is commonly assigned to the year 410, when the Emperor Honorius formally withdrew the Imperial protection from Britain. But the usurper Constantine had actually removed the British army two years before; and, as he was busied with the conquest of Gaul and Spain for a considerable time after, it is not likely that they were ever sent back.

Minimum Gauge Railways by Arthur HeywoodSome four years have elapsed since the second edition of this pamphlet was exhausted. During this period I have constructed and equipped at Eaton Hall, Cheshire, a line which has been in regular use since May, 1896, exactly similar to my own at Duffield. This railway having been made wholly for practical purposes and on strictly economic principles, I am in a position to present more reliable data, both in regard to cost and working, than I could obtain from my own experimental line, which has been continually altered and only irregularly worked.I desire to take this opportunity of expressing my thanks to the Duke of Westminster for the free hand accorded me in regard to the arrangement of all details of the Eaton Railway; a liberty which has resulted in a symmetrical and entirely successful carrying out of the work.What I am now able to advance will, I trust, amply demonstrate the really solid advantages which, under suitable conditions, may be reaped from the installation of little railways of the kind described.In the year 1881, when the Royal Agricultural Society held their show in Derby, it was represented to me that, as many of the members were interested in the cheap transport offered by narrow gauge railways, it would be appreciated if I opened my experimental line at Duffield to inspection during the week.In order to facilitate the comprehension of the objects of this little railway, the late Secretary of the Society suggested that I should draw up a short descriptive pamphlet to place in the hands of visitors. This was done with success and much saving of verbal explanation.Thirteen years later, having added considerably to the rolling stock and improved many of the details, I decided to give a three days exhibition, and to issue a general invitation to all interested in the promotion of such lines, at the same time taking the opportunity to revise and amplify the first edition of this pamphlet.

Adventures in Alaska by Samuel Hall YoungThe author puts forth this little book of actual adventures in the great new land of Alaska with the hope that it will afford healthy-minded young people a true idea of some phases of human and animal life there. These stories are picked out of an experience of forty years and selected with a view to both unity and variety.The first three chapters are an attempt to draw in bold outline some dramatic episodes of the author's experience in the second of the three great gold stampedes of the Northwest. All these struggles for gold have in them richly dramatic elements. Life in such camps pulses strongly with all human ambitions, affections and passions. The missionary, if he is really to commend himself to the men who rush into the wilderness for gold, and do them good, must, first of all, prove himself a man, ready and able to do and suffer everything that falls to the lot of the gold seekers. He must live their life and play the game with them. He must cheerfully put up with the privations they endure, must take the lead in their healthy sports, must alleviate their sufferings, and, keeping himself free from the deadly gold-lust, must show that he has in himself and can give to his fellow pioneers something better than gold. His heart must be, for himself and those about him, a living fountain of joy and peace.As in his earlier work, "The Klondike Clan," the author endeavored to draw a true picture not only of the life and conditions of the first Northwestern gold-rush, but also of the minister's aims and field of duty; so in this short sketch of the second Stampede his aim has been, above all things, truth. Every incident is actual history, and even the names are real. The dog story is also conscientiously true history, and belongs to one of the minor gold stampedes.The second section of the book—the three bear stories and the walrus story—are also bits of history. Every pioneer missionary in Alaska should be an ardent hunter. The author's life has often depended upon his gun and fishing tackle. For ten years in Southeastern Alaska he and his family had no beef or pork or mutton, but the game—animals, birds and fish—more than made up for the lack of these.In Interior Alaska the same conditions prevail. The wild animals furnish not only the food of the people, both natives and whites, but also their winter clothing. Life would be unbearable there in "sixty-below weather" were the inhabitants unable to procure the warm coats provided by kindly Mother Nature for the use both of her four-footed and her human children.

The Mystery of Carlitos - Mexican Mystery Stories 2 by Virginia Fairfax & Helen Randolph & Helen A. RipleyJo Ann jerked the crude, hand-made chair off the oxcart and set it down in the shade of the thatched roof of the house.“Your throne’s ready, Your Majesty,” she called over gaily to the pale, worn-looking Mrs. Blackwell whose daughter Florence was helping her off the burro.“Whoever heard of a throne looking like that?” laughed the slender, hazel-eyed girl beside Jo Ann. “Wait a minute.” She spread a bright rainbow-hued Mexican blanket over the chair. “Now that looks more like a throne.”Jo Ann nodded her dark curly bob. “You’re right, Peg—as usual.” She turned to Mrs. Blackwell. “I know you’re dead tired. That long automobile trip over the rough roads was bad enough, but the ride up the mountain on that poky donkey was worse yet.”

The Sorceress of Rome by Nathan GallizierThe darkness of the tenth century is dissipated by no contemporary historian. Monkish chronicles alone shed a faint light over the discordant chaos of the Italian world. Rome was no longer the capital of the earth. The seat of empire had shifted from the banks of the Tiber to the shores of the Bosporus, and the seven hilled city of Constantine had assumed the imperial purple of the ancient capital of the Cæsars.Centuries of struggles with the hosts of foreign invaders had in time lowered the state of civilization to such a degree, that in point of literature and art the Rome of the tenth century could not boast of a single name worthy of being transmitted to posterity. Even the memory of the men whose achievements in the days of its glory constituted the pride and boast of the Roman world, had become almost extinct. A great lethargy benumbed the Italian mind, engendered by the reaction from the incessant feuds and broils among the petty tyrants and oppressors of the country.Together with the rest of the disintegrated states of Italy, united by no common bond, Rome had become the prey of the most terrible disorders. Papacy had fallen into all manner of corruption. Its former halo and prestige had departed. The chair of St. Peter was sought for by bribery and controlling influence, often by violence and assassination, and the city was oppressed by factions and awed into submission by foreign adventurers in command of bands collected from the outcasts of all nations.From the day of Christmas in the year 800, when at the hands of Pope Leo III, Charlemagne received the imperial crown of the West, the German Kings dated their right as rulers of Rome and the Roman world, a right, feebly and ineffectually contested by the emperors of the East. It was the dream of every German King immediately upon his election to cross the Alps to receive at the hand of the Pope the crown of a country which resisted and resented and never formally recognized a superiority forced upon it. Thus from time to time we find Rome alternately in revolt against German rule, punished, subdued and again imploring the aid of the detested foreigners against the misrule of her own princes, to settle the disputes arising from pontifical elections, or as protection against foreign invaders and the violence of contending factions.

The Secret of Casa Grande - Mexican Mystery Stories 1 by Virginia Fairfax & Helen Randolph & Helen A. RipleyThe Mexican Mystery Stories for Girls series follows the adventures that are shared by Jo Ann Cutrer, her friend Peggy, and Peggy's old friend Florence Blackwell as the three girls explore Mexico. Jo Ann is adventurous and always looking for a mystery to solve. Florence is a native American who has lived half of her life in Mexico and speaks both English and Spanish fluently. Florence proves to be a great aid to Jo Ann since she is able to speak both languages. Peggy is more timid and tries unsuccessfully to convince Jo Ann to stay away from trouble.

The Lost Cabin Mine by Frederick NivenThis early western by Scots-Canadian writer Frederick Niven (1878-1944) is a character study of a frontier outlaw with “good” bad man credentials. The Apache Kid is a congenial train robber, bank robber, and road agent, But he’s never been convicted of any crimes and socializes freely with any law-abiding citizens who care to have his acquaintance. The novel is set in what we take to be British Columbia; the year is 1900. The narrator, known only as Francis, is a young adventuring Scotsman. Looking for work, he signs on with the Kid and his partner Larry Donoghue to accompany them on a two-month expedition.The two men, driving a freight wagon, once encountered another man, Mike Canlan, who’d come upon a prospector stumbling out of the mountains. Perishing and deranged, he professed knowledge of a fabulous gold mine. It’s believed that he revealed the location of the mine—the “lost mine” of the title—to at least one of the three men. But so far no one has gone in search of it for fear he’ll be followed.

Through the Yukon Gold Diggings - A Narrative of Personal Travel by Josiah Edward SpurrAs a geologist of the United States Geological Survey, I had the good fortune to be placed in charge of the first expedition sent by that department into the interior of Alaska. The gold diggings of the Yukon region were not then known to the world in general, yet to those interested in mining their renown had come in a vague way, and the special problem with which I was charged was their investigation. The results of my studies were embodied in a report entitled: "Geology of the Yukon Gold District," published by the Government.It was during my travels through the mining regions that the Klondike discovery, which subsequently turned so many heads throughout all of the civilized nations, was made. General conditions of mining, travelling and prospecting are much the same to-day as they were at that time, except in the limited districts into which the flood of miners has poured. My travels in Alaska have been extensive since the journey of which this work is a record, and I have noted the same scenes that are herein described, in many other parts of the vast untravelled Territory. It will take two or three decades or more, to make alterations in this region and change the condition throughout.In recording, therefore, the scenes and hardships encountered in this northern country, I describe the experiences of one who to-day knocks about the Yukon region, the Copper River region, the Cook Inlet region, the Koyukuk, or the Nome District. My aim has been throughout, to set down what I saw and encountered as fully and simply as possible, and I have endeavored to keep myself from sacrificing accuracy to picturesqueness. That my duties led me to see more than would the ordinary traveller, I trust the following pages will bear witness.Let the reader, therefore, when he finds tedious or unpleasant passages, remember that they record tedious or unpleasant incidents that one who travels this vast region cannot escape, as will be found should any of those who peruse these pages go through the Yukon Gold Diggings.

With Wellington in Spain / A Story of the Peninsula by Captain F. S. BreretonNo cooler spot could be imagined on the hottest midsummer day than the picturesque forecourt of the premises occupied by Septimus John Clifford & Son, wine merchants, importers and exporters.Behind the forecourt, crowding the latter closely towards the edge of the River Thames, some few hundred yards below the point where the stream swept and swirled through the arches of the bridge, stretched an irregular block of buildings, that portion farthest from the court presenting a somewhat severe frontage to the river, its many floors, its narrow windows, and its winches and hoists dangling outside serving to show that it was there that Septimus John Clifford & Son stored their goods from oversea. Huge doors leading by wide, shallow steps to the basement hinted that it was through these easy portals that the wines of France, of Spain, and of Portugal found access to the vast vaults stretching away behind the muddy bank of the river.

The Adventures of Billy Topsail by Norman DuncanYOU must not be surprised because the adventures of Billy Topsail and a few of his friends fill this book. If all the adventures of these real boys were written the record would fill many books. This is not hard to explain. The British Colony of Newfoundland lies to the north of the Gulf of St. Lawrence and to the east of the Canadian Labrador. It is so situated that the inhabitants may not escape adventures. On the map, it looks bleak and far away and inhospitable—a lonely island, outlying in the stormy water of the Atlantic. Indeed, it is all that. The interior is a vast wilderness—a waste place. The folk are fishermen all. They live on the coast, in little harbours, remote, widely scattered, not connected by roads; communication is only by way of the sea. They are hospitable, fearless, tender, simple, willing for toil; and, surely, little else can be said of a people. Long, long ago, their forbears first strayed up that forbidding shore in chase of the fish; and the succeeding generations, though such men as we are, have there lived their lives, apart from the world's comforts and delights as we know them. The land is barren; sustenance is from the sea, which is moody and cold and gray: thus life in that far place has many perils and deprivations and toilsome duties. The boys of the outports are like English-speaking boys the world over. They are merry or not, brave or not, kind or not, as boys go; but it may be that they are somewhat merrier and braver and kinder than boys to whom self-reliance and physical courage are less needful. At any rate, they have adventures, every one of them; and that is not surprising—for the conditions of life are such that every Newfoundland lad intimately knows hardship and peril at an age when the boys of the cities still grasp a hand when they cross the street.