Sara Ware Bassett eBooks

Mrs. McGregor waited a moment. «But you aren't coming,» protested she fretfully. «You never seem to come when you're wanted. Drat the child! Where is he? Carl!» «Yes, Ma.» «Yes, Ma! Yes, Ma!» the woman >>

Christopher Mark Antony Burton was a tremendously imposing name to give a baby. When he lay in his crib, wee and helpless, he looked as if he might never survive the weight of it. Even later, when he began >>

It was the vision of a monthly paper for the Burmingham High School that first turned Paul Cameron's attention toward a printing press. «Dad, how much does a printing press cost?» he inquired one evening >>

Steve Tolman had done a wrong thing and he knew it.

Peter Coddington sat in the afternoon sunshine on the steps of his big colonial home looking absently out over the circular drive, and the quaint terraced garden, to the red-tiled roof of the garage beyond. >>

Madame Antoinette Bretton went for the third time to the door of her tiny cottage and, shading her eyes, looked anxiously up the side of the ice-capped mountain that flanked the garden. There was still >>

Donald Clark glanced up from his Latin grammar and watched his father as he tore open the envelope of a telegram and ran his eye over its contents. Evidently the message was puzzling. Again Mr. Clark read >>