Holiday Stories for Young People

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Holiday Stories for Young People

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Holiday Stories for Young People, by Various This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
Title: Holiday Stories for Young People
Author: Various
Editor: Margaret E. Sangster
Release Date: September 4, 2005 [EBook #16648]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Janet Blenkinship and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

Holiday Stories
Compiled and Edited by
Copyright, 1896, BY LOUIS KLOPSCH.

To John and Jane, to Fred and Frank, To Theodore and Mary, To Willie and to Reginald, To Louis, Sue and Gary; To sturdy boys and merry girls, And all the dear young people Who live in towns, or live on farms, Or dwell near spire or steeple; To boys who work, and boys who play, Eager, alert and ready, To girls who meet each happy day With faces sweet and steady; To dearest comrades, one and all, To Harry, Florrie, Kate, To children small, and children tall, This book I dedicate.

Boys and girls, I am proud to call a host of you my personal friends, and I dearly love you all. It has been a great pleasure to me to arrange this gift book for you, and I hope you will like the stories and ballads, and spend many happy hours over them. One story, "The Middle Daughter," was originally published in Harper's "Round Table," and is inserted here by consent of Messrs. Harper and Brothers. Two of the ballads, "Horatius," and "The Pied Piper," belong to literature, and you cannot afford not to know them, and some of the fairy stories are like bits of golden coin, worth treasuring up and reading often. Miss Mary Joanna Porter deserves the thanks of the boys for the aid she has given in the making of this volume, and the bright stories she has contributed to its pages.
A merry time to you, boys and girls, and a heart full of love from your steadfast friend,

PAGE 1. The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale. By M.E. Sangster 9
2. The Lighthouse Lamp. By M.E. Sangster. 71
3. The Family Mail-bag. By Mary Joanna Porter 73
4. A Day's Fishing. By Mary Joanna Porter 79
5. Why Charlie Didn't Go. By Mary Joanna Porter 85
6. Uncle Giles' Paint Brush. By Mary Joanna Porter 91
7. The Pied Piper of Hamelin. By Robert Browning 95
8. A Girl Graduate. By Cynthia Barnard 104
9. A Christmas Frolic. By M.E. Sangster 116
10. Archie's Vacation. By Mary Joanna Porter 119
11. A Birthday Story. By M.E. Sangster 124
12. A Coquette. By Amy Pierce 130
13. Horatius. Ballad. By T.B. Macaulay 131
14. A Bit of Brightness. By Mary Joanna Porter 151
15. How Sammy Earned the Prize. By M.E. Sangster 157
16. The Glorious Fourth 162
17. The Middle Daughter. By M.E. Sangster 163
18. The Golden Bird. By the Brothers Grimm. 226
19. Harry Pemberton's Text. By Elizabeth Armstrong 239
20. Our Cats 246
21. Outovplace 252
22. The Boy Who Dared to be a Daniel. By S. Jennie Smith 254
23. Little Red Cap. By the Brothers Grimm. 259
24. New Zealand Children 266
25. The Breeze from the Peak 271
26. The Bremen Town Musicians. By the Brothers Grimm 276
27. A Very Queer Steed and Some Strange Adventures. Told after Ariosto, by Elizabeth Armstrong 282
28. Freedom's Silent Host. By M.E. Sangster 292
29. Presence of Mind. By M.E. Sangster 294
30. The Boy Who Went from the Sheepfold to the Throne. By M.E. Sangster 312

Holiday Stories for Young People

The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale
My name is Milly Van Doren, and I am an only child. I won't begin by telling you how tall I am, how much I weigh, and the color of my eyes and hair, for you would not know very much more about my looks after such an inventory than you do without it, and mother says that in her opinion it is pleasantest to form one's own idea of a girl in a story book. Mother says, too, that a good rule in stories is to leave out introductions, and so I will follow her advice and plunge into the middle of my first morning. It was early summer and very lovely, and I was feeling half-sad and half-glad, with the gladness surpassing the sadness, because I had never before been half so proud and important.
Father and mother, after talking and planning and hesitating over it a long while, were actually going on a journey just by themselves and without me; and I, being now considered old enough and steady enough, was
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