Bøger af Sophie May

"Fairy Book" is an ancient Fantasy, Adventure story book written by Sophie May. Through the book's pages, viewers are transported to interested regions teeming with dynamic creatures and wondrous pleasures. Sophie May develops fascinating narratives that captivate the emotions and brains of visitors of each generation. With her intellectual assets narrative fashion, May transports youngsters to attractive forests, legendary geographical regions, and fantasy change universes in which the whole thing is viable. Each of the testimonies inside the series is full of attraction, thriller, and a touch of fairy tale fascination. May's wealthy descriptions and colorful characters carry to existence an array of legendary individuals, from mischievous fairies to honorable knights and illuminated wizards. Her works of fiction are chock-complete of adventure, wonder, and undying topics like braveness, friendship, and the strength of notion. "Fairy Book" is a conventional paintings of artwork which has captivated and stimulated generations of listeners with its imaginitive tale and appealing atmosphere. Sophie May's undying poems illustrate the eternal magic of fairy stories and the limitless opportunities of the human thoughts.

First published in the late 19th century, 'The Doctor's Daughter' is a charming children's novel that follows the adventures of a young girl named Bessie who is the daughter of a country doctor. Along with her friends, Bessie explores the woods, attends Sunday school, and learns valuable lessons about kindness and honesty.This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it.This work is in the "public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.

Originally published in 1874, this classic children's book by Sophie May tells the story of Prudy, a young girl who is tasked with keeping house while her mother is away. Over the course of the book, Prudy learns important lessons about domestic responsibility, family life, and the challenges of growing up. This book is a charming and timeless tale that will delight readers of all ages.This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it.This work is in the "public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.

Dotty Dimple At Play is a children's book written by Sophie May. The story follows the adventures of a young girl named Dotty Dimple as she explores the world around her and engages in various activities. From playing with her friends to going on picnics and attending parties, Dotty Dimple is always on the move and eager to have fun. Along the way, she learns important lessons about friendship, kindness, and the importance of being true to oneself. This charming book is sure to delight young readers with its engaging storyline and lovable characters.The bed was on the floor, and was founded upon woolsacks and buffalo skins. The sleeping arrangements in this house were somewhat peculiar. Mrs. Rosenberg was like the old woman in the shoe, and she stowed her numerous family away for the night in as little space as possible. For instance, the four youngest children slept together in one trundle-bed, two at the top and two at the bottom, their feet coming together in the middle. But Mandoline had left the trundle bed, and was lying on the floor with her guest. The companion the trundle-bed--little Kosina--was quite indignant at being deserted, and made a loud outcry, in the hope of attracting her mother's attention.This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the old original and may contain some imperfections such as library marks and notations. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions, that are true to their original work.

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.

He did look so funny when they first put him into "pocket-clothes!" His green "breeches" were so tight that they made you think of two pods of marrow-fat peas, only they were topped off with a pair of "rocco" shoes, as red as bell-peppers. He had silver buckles on his shoes, and brass buttons on his green jacket, which was fastened at the back. He had a white collar about his neck as large as a small cape, and finished off around the edge with a ruffle. His mother had snipped his dark locks so they needn't look so much like a girl's; and then with his brown fur hat on, which his grandfather Cheever had sent from Boston, he looked in the glass and smiled at himself. Do you wonder he smiled?

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

We might begin this story of Susy Parlin on a New Year's day, only it is so hard to skip over Christmas. There is such a charm about Christmas! It makes you think at once of a fir tree shining with little candles and sparkling with toys, or of a droll Santa Claus with a pack full of presents, or of a waxen angel called the Christ-child. And it is just as well to date from the twenty-fifth of December, because, as "Christ was born on Christmas day," that is really the "Happy New Year." For a long while the three little Parlin girls had been thinking and dreaming of presents. Susy's wise head was like a beehive, full of little plans and little fancies, which were flying about like bees, and buzzing in everybody's ears. But it may be as well to give you a short description of the Parlin family. Susy's eyes were of an "evening blue," the very color of the sky in a summer night; good eyes, for they were as clear as a well which has the "truth" lying at the bottom of it. She was almost as nimble as a squirrel, and could face a northern snow storm like an engineer. Her hair was dark brown, and as smooth and straight as pine-needles; while Prudy's fair hair rippled like a brook running over pebbles. Prudy's face was sunny, and her mouth not much larger than a button-hole.

One of Mrs. Allen's bay windows stood open. Between the ivies, tuberoses, and lilies, you caught a glimpse of gilded walls and rare paintings. Better than all, you saw four young faces looking out at a snow-storm; Dotty with eyes like living diamonds, Prudy fair and sweet, Horace lordly and wise; and the little one "with dove's eyes" following every motion of his head, as if she were a sunflower, and he the sun. "Please shut the window, quick, Horace; the plants will freeze," said Prudy, drawing in her powdered head. "Things don't freeze in cloudy weather, Prue; but you children will catch cold; so here goes." "O, Hollis, don't those snow-specks look like little bits o' birdies, athout any wings or any feathers, too?" "Droll birds they would be," said Aunt Madge. "That reminds me of an old riddle, children,

Alice was the youngest of the Parlin family. When Grandma Read called the children into the kitchen, and told them about their new little sister, Susy danced for joy; and Prudy, in her delight, opened the cellar door, and fell down the whole length of the stairs. However, she rolled as softly as a pincushion, and was not seriously hurt. "But you can't go into mother's room," said Susy, "you're crying so hard." "Poh!" replied three-years-old Prudy, twinkling off the tears; "yes, I can neither. I won't go crying in! I didn't hurt me velly bad. I'm weller now!" So she had the first peep at the wee dot of a baby in the nurse's arms. "O, dear, dear," said she, "what shall I do? I are so glad! I wish I could jump clear up to the sky of this room! How do you do, little sister?" The baby made no reply.

O Auntie Prim, may I have a party? I'll give you a thou-sand kisses if you'll lemme have a party Auntie Prim looked as if one kiss would be more than she could bear. She was standing by the pantry window that opened upon the garden, rolling out pie-crust, and didn't like to be disturbed. She was a very good woman, but she never liked to be disturbed. Party? said she, gazing sternly at Flaxie Frizzle and her little cousin Milly. Saturday morning, and your mother gone, too I should think this was a queer time for a party Flaxie rolled her apron over at the corners and chewed it. Well, 'cause it's my birthday, and my mamma said-

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.

This failed to satisfy Miss Dimple. She would cry out again, in heart-broken tones, - "Is I your little comfort, mamma? Is I?" So, sooner or later, Mrs. Parlin was obliged, for the sake of peace, to kiss the child, and answer, "Yes." Then, perhaps, for twenty-four hours the lion would be curled up, asleep, and out of sight in his den, and the lamb would be playfully frisking about the house, a pet for everybody. But often and often, when Susy and Prudy came in from school or play, they found their baby sister in disgrace, perched upon the wood-box in the kitchen, with feet and hands firmly tied. There she would sit, throwing out the loudest noise possible from her little throat. It was the young lion again, roaring in his cage.

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 work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work.This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.

I am going to tell you something about a little girl who was always saying and doing funny things, and very often getting into trouble. Her name was Prudy Parlin, and she and her sister Susy, three years older, lived in Portland, in the State of Maine, though every summer they went to Willowbrook, to visit their grandmother. At the very first of our story, Susy was more than six years old, and Prudy was between three and four. Susy could sew quite well for a girl of her age, and had a stint every day. Prudy always thought it very fine to do just as Susy did, so she teased her mother to let her have some patchwork, too, and Mrs. Parlin gave her a few calico pieces, just to keep her little fingers out of mischief. But when the squares were basted together, she broke needles, pricked her fingers, and made a great fuss; sometimes crying, and wishing there were no such thing as patchwork.

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!

"You is goin' off, Dotty Dimpwil." "Yes, dear, and you must kiss me." "No, not now; you isn't gone yet. You's goin' nex' day after this day." Miss Dimple and Horace exchanged glances, for they had an important secret between them. "Dotty, does you want to hear me crow like Bantie? 'Cause," added Katie, with a pitying glance at her cousin, "'cause you can't bear me bimeby, when you didn't be to my house."

Katie Clifford sat on the floor, in the sun, feeding her white mice. She had a tea-spoon and a cup of bread and milk in her hands. If she had been their own mother she could not have smiled down on the little creatures more sweetly. "'Cause I spect they's hungry, and that's why I'm goin' to give 'em sumpin' to eat. Shut your moufs and open your eyes," said she, waving the tea-spoon, and spattering the bread and milk over their backs. "Quee, quee," squeaked the little mice, very well pleased when a drop happened to go into their mouths. "What are you doing there, Miss Topknot," said Horace: "O, I see; catching rats." Flyaway frowned fearfully, and the tuft of hair atop of her head danced like a war-plume. "I shouldn't think folks would call 'em names, Hollis, when they never did a thing to you. Nothing but clean white mouses!" "Let's see; now I look at 'em, Topknot, they are white. And what's all this paper?"

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1884 edition. Excerpt: ...the gentle clasp of Sadie Patten's tack-nails, and leaning over from the tops of the windows as if already tired of the sun and wanting a little rest. " Well, let's see your hammer." "No, I'm using it, I'm a young lady now and do as I please," cried Mary, springing up from the kitchen hearth, and scattering her walnuts broadcast, "catch me if you can." "Is that so? Well, then, now for 'a race from here to the sweet-apple tree. One, two, three, begin!" And Preston started off at the top of his speed, Mary just before him; her face aglow, her hair streaming in the wind. As she skimmed over the ground, shouting and laughing, she seemed for all the world like a little girl, and not in the least like a young lady. She was soon caught and obliged to surrender the hainmer, whereupon Preston nailed the curtains neatly, and went whistling about the house, giving finishing touches here and there to the rickety furniture. " O thank you. You 've been a great help. Now, in return, you shall have a spring-bed to sleep on, the only one we have in the house," said Lucy, with a mischievous glance at Sadie. The spring-bed did not fit the bedstead, and the chances were that it might fall through in the night. "You're too tremendously kind, too selfsacrificing," said Preston, suspecting at once that something was wrong. But he had-his revenge. The bedstead was extremely noisy, and the roguish youth, unable to sleep himself on account of mosquitoes, rejoiced to think that he was probably keeping his cousin Lucy awake. "Good morning, Preston, I hope you rested well," said she, as they all met next morning in the front yard. "O very.--it 's so quiet in the...

"I never saw a gold mine in my life; and now I'm going to see one," cried Lucy, skipping along in advance of the others. It was quite a large party; the whole Dunlee family, with the two Sanfords, -Uncle James and Aunt Vi, -making ten in all, counting Maggie, the maid. They had alighted from the cars at a way-station, and were walking along the platform toward the tallyho coach which was waiting for them. Lucy was firmly impressed with the idea that they were starting for the gold mines. The truth was, they were on their way to an old mining-town high up in the Cuyamaca Mountains, called Castle Cliff; but there had been no gold there for a great many years. Mr. Dunlee was in rather poor health, and had been "ordered" to the mountains. The others were perfectly well and had not been "ordered" anywhere: they were going merely because they wanted to have a good time. "Papa would be so lonesome without us children," said Edith, "he needs us all for company

This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book.

This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!

While Prudy was in Indiana visiting the Cliffords, and in the midst of her trials with mosquitoes, she said one day, - "I wouldn't cry, Aunt 'Ria, only my heart's breaking. The very next person that ever dies, I wish they'd ask God to please stop sending these awful skeeters. I can't bear 'em any longer, now, certainly." There was a look of utter despair on Prudy's disfigured face. Bitter tears were trickling from the two white puff-balls which had been her eyes; her forehead and cheeks were of a flaming pink, broken into little snow-drifts full of stings: she looked as if she had just been rescued from an angry beehive. Altogether, her appearance was exceedingly droll; yet Grace would not allow herself to smile at her afflicted little cousin. "Strange," said she, "what makes our mosquitoes so impolite to strangers! It's a downright shame, isn't it, ma, to have little Prudy so imposed upon? If I could only amuse her, and make her forget it!" "Oh, mamma," Grace broke forth again suddenly, "I have an idea, a very brilliant idea! Please listen, and pay particular attention; for I shall speak in a figure, as Robin says. There's a certain small individual who is not to understand." "I wouldn't risk that style of talking," said Mrs. Clifford, smiling; "or, if you do, your figures of speech must be very obscure, remember." "Well, ma," continued Grace with a significant glance at Prudy, "what I was going to say is this: We wish to treat certain young relatives of ours very kindly; don't we, now?-certain afflicted and abused young relatives, you know.