Books with title The Monster: Large Print

Lala dwells in a cave that lies deep below the ground, worlds away from the castle where three beautiful princesses live. She is the best krinkle-nut digger by far, but she longs for more: the dresses, the parties, the royal life. Up, up, up Lala climbs and sneaks into the castle. She tries on the princesses’ gowns…and is caught. But the princesses dress Lala up and let her attend a ball. She stumbles. She bumbles. She is laughed at. Can Lala find it in her heart to forgive the girls who tricked her? Will Lala find out what it means to be a real princess?

Lala dwells in a cave that lies deep below the ground, worlds away from the castle where three beautiful princesses live. She is the best krinkle-nut digger by far, but she longs for more: the dresses, the parties, the royal life. Up, up, up Lala climbs and sneaks into the castle. She tries on the princesses’ gowns…and is caught. But the princesses dress Lala up and let her attend a ball. She stumbles. She bumbles. She is laughed at. Can Lala find it in her heart to forgive the girls who tricked her? Will Lala find out what it means to be a real princess?

Winner of the Printz Award Winner of the Coretta Scott King Award National Book Award Finalist Steve Harmon's black. He's in jail, maybe forever. He's on trial for murder. And he's sixteen years old. Steve: "Sometimes I feel like I have walked into the middle of a movie. Maybe I can make my own movie. The film will be the story of my life. No, not my life, but of this experience. I'll call it what the lady prosecutor called me . . . MONSTER.

Lala dwells in a cave that lies deep below the ground, worlds away from the castle where three beautiful princesses live. She is the best krinkle-nut digger by far, but she longs for more: the dresses, the parties, the royal life. Up, up, up Lala climbs and sneaks into the castle. She tries on the princesses’ gowns…and is caught. But the princesses dress Lala up and let her attend a ball. She stumbles. She bumbles. She is laughed at. Can Lala find it in her heart to forgive the girls who tricked her? Will Lala find out what it means to be a real princess?

Through the treason of a handful of men, contact between Earth & the Moon had become a nightmare. The world became the tool of the Lunarians, whose plundering and cruelty reduced thieving nations to poverty stricken wastelands. The Moon Men is the astounding story of that tragedy, & of the exploits of Julian, the human who dared fight for freedom. It’s the story also of Red Hawk, Julian’s descendant, the nomad who attempted to bring the struggle to its final desperate conclusion.

Through the treason of a handful of men, contact between Earth & the Moon had become a nightmare. The world became the tool of the Lunarians, whose plundering and cruelty reduced thieving nations to poverty stricken wastelands. The Moon Men is the astounding story of that tragedy, & of the exploits of Julian, the human who dared fight for freedom. It's the story also of Red Hawk, Julian's descendant, the nomad who attempted to bring the struggle to its final desperate conclusion.

Through the treason of a handful of men, contact between Earth & the Moon had become a nightmare. The world became the tool of the Lunarians, whose plundering and cruelty reduced thieving nations to poverty stricken wastelands. The Moon Men is the astounding story of that tragedy, & of the exploits of Julian, the human who dared fight for freedom. It’s the story also of Red Hawk, Julian’s descendant, the nomad who attempted to bring the struggle to its final desperate conclusion.

My friend Lumley was particularly fond of warmth and of physical ease, yet he often expressed the opinion, with much emphasis, that there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a night in a snow-bed. Jack Lumley was my chum—a fine manly fellow with a vigorous will, a hardy frame, and a kindly heart. We had a natural leaning towards each other—a sort of undefinable sympathy—which inclined us to seek each other’s company in a quiet unobtrusive way. We were neither of us demonstrative; we did not express regard for each other; we made no protestations of undying friendship, but we drew together, somehow, especially in our hunting expeditions which were numerous.

IT WAS EARLY in March, 1969, that I set out from my bleak camp on the desolate shore some fifty miles southeast of Herschel Island after polar bear. I had come into the Arctic the year before to enjoy the first real vacation that I had ever had. The definite close of the Great War, in April two years before, had left an exhausted world at peace-a condition that had never before existed and with which we did not know how to cope.I think that we all felt lost without war-I know that I did; but I managed to keep pretty busy with the changes that peace brought to my bureau, the Bureau of Communications, readjusting its activities to the necessities of world trade uninfluenced by war. During my entire official life I had had to combine the two-communications for war and communications for commerce, so the adjustment was really not a Herculean task. It took a little time, that was all, and after it was a fairly well accomplished fact I asked for an indefinite leave, which was granted.My companions of the hunt were three Eskimos, the youngest of whom, a boy of nineteen, had never before seen a white man, so absolutely had the last twenty years of the Great War annihilated the meager trade that had formerly been carried on between their scattered settlements and the more favored lands of so-called civilization.

My friend Lumley was particularly fond of warmth and of physical ease, yet he often expressed the opinion, with much emphasis, that there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a night in a snow-bed. Jack Lumley was my chum—a fine manly fellow with a vigorous will, a hardy frame, and a kindly heart. We had a natural leaning towards each other—a sort of undefinable sympathy—which inclined us to seek each other’s company in a quiet unobtrusive way. We were neither of us demonstrative; we did not express regard for each other; we made no protestations of undying friendship, but we drew together, somehow, especially in our hunting expeditions which were numerous.

The Pond by Carl Ewald This was not because he really had anything to complain of. The sun was shining; there were flies in plenty; and no one was doing him harm. A little while before, a pretty girl, with jet-black eyes, had sat under the bush and listened to his song and kissed her hand to him. We are delighted to publish this classic book as part of our extensive Classic Library collection. Many of the books in our collection have been out of print for decades, and therefore have not been accessible to the general public. The aim of our publishing program is to facilitate rapid access to this vast reservoir of literature, and our view is that this is a significant literary work, which deserves to be brought back into print after many decades. The contents of the vast majority of titles in the Classic Library have been scanned from the original works. To ensure a high quality product, each title has been meticulously hand curated by our staff. Our philosophy has been guided by a desire to provide the reader with a book that is as close as possible to ownership of the original work. We hope that you will enjoy this wonderful classic work, and that for you it becomes an enriching experience.

Through the treason of a handful of men, contact between Earth & the Moon had become a nightmare. The world became the tool of the Lunarians, whose plundering and cruelty reduced thieving nations to poverty stricken wastelands. The Moon Men is the astounding story of that tragedy, & of the exploits of Julian, the human who dared fight for freedom. It’s the story also of Red Hawk, Julian’s descendant, the nomad who attempted to bring the struggle to its final desperate conclusion.