Amy Brooks is author of "Princess Polly," "Princess Polly at School," "Princess Polly by the Sea," "Princess Polly's Gay Winter," and "Princess Polly at Play." Brooks is also author of the Dorothy Dainty series for young girls. Polly Sherwood is a sweet little girl nicknamed Princess Polly by her friends. Young girls will enjoy her adventures and the quality of the writing and the wholesome adventures will please parents. This book is recommended for girls in elementary school

Unseen Arms Can you imagine being born without arms or legs? What would be the quality of your life? How would you cope? What would your attitude or personality be like? How about the depth of your humor, the level of your faith, or your compassion for others? Meet the lovely Miss Amy Brooks. Amy was born with an extremely rare condition called Tetraphocomelia-having no arms or legs. She was then left abandoned at the hospital by her birth parents where the staff was asked if they could "put her in a room and not feed her." In her inspiring, humorous, and uplifting autobiography, Amy takes...

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic, timeless works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic, timeless works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

THE great hotel on the crest of the hill was bathed in sunlight that poured from a rift in the clouds, as if sent for the sole purpose of showing the grand portico, the broad piazza, and the flag that floated gracefully on the summer breeze. Its many windows seemed to be looking across the valley to opposite mountain peaks, and one could easily imagine that its wide, open doorway, smiled genially as if offering a welcome to all arriving guests. Two little girls ran across the lawn, the one with flaxen curls, the other with sunny brown ringlets.

The great gateway stood wide open, and through it one could see the fine stone house with its vine-covered balconies, its rare flowers and stately trees. A light breeze swayed the roses, sending out their perfume in little gusts of sweetness, while across the path the merry sunbeams flickered, like little dancing elves.

The Stone House looked as fine, and its gardens as gay with flowers, as when the members of the household were to be at home for a season, for it always seemed at those times as if the blossoming plants did their best, because sure of loving admiration.

The sunniest place upon the hillside was the little pasture in which the old mare was grazing, moving slowly about and nipping at the short grass as if that which lay directly under her nose could not be nearly as choice as that which she could obtain by constant perambulation. A blithe voice awoke the echoes with a fragment of an old song. The mare looked up and gave a welcoming whinny as Randy Weston, Squire Weston's daughter, crossed the pasture, her pink sunbonnet hanging from her arm by its strings.