Kategoria BISAC: Juvenile Fiction >> Readers - Chapter Books

For nine-year-old Angus McBride and his best friend, Andrew Sills, the...

Help Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose solve mysteries from A to Z

Kids love collecting the entire alphabet and super editions With over 8 million copies in print, the A to Z Mysteries(R) have been hooking chapter book readers on mysteries and reading for years. Now this classic kid favorite is back with a bright new look

E is for Envelope . . . Who is sending letters to Dink? All week long, Dink has been getting strange mail. The envelopes are addressed to "D. Duncan," but the letters inside are for someone named Doris. Plus, one envelope is empty ...

In this third and final Mouse novel from Newbery Medal-winning author Beverly Cleary, Ralph heads to school to see what humans do all day . . . and to discover what the S in Ralph S. Mouse stands for

With his rowdy cousins constantly wearing out his motorcycle and the Mountain View Inn manager threatening to take care of the mouse infestation once and for all, Ralph decides it's time to get away for a while. He convinces his human friend Ryan to take him along to school, where Ralph instantly becomes the center of attention. But when Ryan's class decides to see how smart Ralph is by...

• Lily, who wants to be a poet
• Tess, who wants to be a Broadway star
• Rosie, who wants a little cottage with flowers by the door

Heidi is a delightful story for children of life in the Alps, one of many tales written by the Swiss authoress, Johanna Spyri, who died in her home at Zurich in 1891. She had been well known to the younger readers of her own country since 1880, when she published her story, Heimathlos, which ran into three or more editions, and which, like her other books, as she states on the title page, was written for those who love children, as well as for the youngsters themselves. Her own sympathy with the instincts and longings of the child's heart is shown in her picture of Heidi. The record of the...

"Be still, be still," said the woman. The child's mother was gone, lost to the fierceness of the winter. "I shall find something pretty for you presently; then you must sit down quietly and play with it, and not go outside, not one step, do you hear? Pshaw there is nothing but rubbish here " "Well, then give us the rose," said the little girl, still scowling. The woman looked about the room. "There are no roses here," she said. "How should there be, in March?" she added, half vexed at having looked for them. "There," said the child, pointing towards a book that the woman had but a moment...