Gutenberg Books for Kindle


Gutenberg’s directions for downloading their books to your device.

Youtube video on downloading Gutenberg books from their website to your Kindle 3:

Step by step directions for downloading Gutenberg books for Nook or Kindle using your USB cord

Or… save the book to the computer.  Be sure you have installed  the “send to kindle app” .  Turn on your Kindle and connect it to the internet. Right click the file, then click send to kindle.  This is handier (to me) than connecting via the USB and dragging and dropping files to Kindle, but it’s easy for me to access the internet with my Kindle.

There’s a long discussion here by other users, so if nothing above is useful to you, you might find good advice here.
A few recommended titles:
Children’s Stories in American History by Henrietta Christian Wright



Francisco Pizarro was a little Spanish boy who was very poor and very miserable. Living in a beautiful valley where the climate was agreeable, and where one might gather grapes and chestnuts and oranges at will, it might have been quite possible for him to be poor and happy, too, but there were many things about Francisco’s lot that were harder to bear than poverty. Many other children dwelt in this pleasant valley, some of them as poor and wretched and ragged as Francisco, and others who were rich and well clothed and happy. Not far from the little hut that was Francisco’s home was a stately castle, where a great duke lived, and the little boy would often go and stand by the stone wall that enclosed the grounds, and wonder how it would seem to live in that splendid mansion, and be allowed to walk in its beautiful parks. Once in a while, when the gates were opened to let in a crowd of gaily-dressed visitors, or when the duke, at the head of a laughing party, went forth on a merry hunting expedition, he would catch a glimpse of the velvet lawns and shady trees and gorgeous flowers, and could see children dressed in dainty garments, and sometimes wearing beautiful jewels, playing on the grass or swinging under the trees. And Francisco would look and look with eyes big with wonder till the gay party had passed and the gates swung back in his face, and he was left out there in the dusty road alone. And then he would turn and watch the hunting party until the brilliant scene faded quite away in the distance, and he was once more left alone. It always seemed to him that no matter how gay or happy this bit of the world might seem, it always ended in his being left outside of that gray stone wall, alone and hungry and ragged, and that in fact these glimpses of another, happier life were only after all just like his dreams, which were sure to fade away when morning came. He could not help sighing sometimes and wishing that the dream would go on for him just as it did for the other children inside the stone wall. Once it did go on just a moment or two, for one day as he stood dejectedly by the gates, they opened, and a beautiful child came out who spoke to him kindly. He was dressed in a suit of velvet, and his long hair fell in curls over his shoulders, and in his cap was a little pearl ornament which fastened a bird’s wing. And Francisco, as he looked at the wing, thought he had never in his life seen anything so wonderful, for the feathers were soft like velvet, but glowed and burned in the sunlight like the rubies in the ring on the child’s hand.

Wildflowers of the Farm by Arthur O. Cooke (illustrated)

Now it is June, and the blossoms of the Wallflower have faded and fallen. The old wall is, however, growing gay with another plant–the Red Valerian. We must be careful to remember that it is the Red Valerian, for there are other valerians. There is the Great Valerian which does not grow on walls or rocks, but in damp and shady places; its flowers are pale pink.

The blossoms of the Red Valerian on the wall are bright crimson, and they grow in rows on small stems which spring from a stout stalk a foot or two in height. Each blossom of five petals forms a little tube or corolla. The base or foot of each little tube appears as a point on the under side of the flower stem; the Red Valerian, like the Violet, is a spurred flower.

The leaves are long and pointed, and they grow in pairs, on opposite sides of the stalk. Sometimes the edges of the leaves are quite smooth; sometimes they are serrated, or toothed, like the edge of a saw. If we pulled a plant of Red Valerian from the wall we should find the roots very long and branching; they need to be so, for the plant often grows on rocks and other places where it is exposed to wind. If the roots had not a firm hold the tall stems laden with blossoms might be blown down.

The Red Valerian flowers all through the summer. Its clusters of crimson flowers are as great an ornament to the old wall as were the wallflowers in May.

Now let us go down the steps into the foldyard; there is a wall on either side of us as we descend. The wall which faces the north is nearly always in shadow, and there are ferns growing but of it between the stones. One of these is a beautiful Hartstongue fern, with large and shining leaves. We said just now, however, that ferns have no flowers, so we will turn to something that grows on the wall opposite.

This is the ivy-leaved Toadflax. It grows on walls and rocks, as the Red Valerian does, but it is a very different plant in appearance. The stems of the Red Valerian are tall and upright; those of the Toadflax are slender and drooping. There is a large mass of it on the side of the wall, and we find that the root is at the highest point of the whole mass. The stems with the flowers and leaves hang down below the root; it is a trailing plant.

The Yellow Fairy Book by Andrew Lang

No illustrations. Surely this one needs no introduction?

The Junior Classics — Volume 7: Stories of Courage and Heroism by William Patten

sample toc:
How Phidias Helped the Image-Maker Beatrice Harraden

The Fight at the Pass of Thermopylæ Charlotte M. Yonge

The Bravery of Regulus Charlotte M. Yonge

The Rabbi Who Found the Diadem Dr. A. S. Isaacs

How Livia Won the Brooch Beatrice Harraden

Julius Cæsar Crossing the Rubicon Jacob Abbott

Fearless Saint Genevieve, Patron Saint of Paris Charlotte M. Yonge

The Boy Viking—Olaf II of Norway E. S. Brooks

The Boy-Heroes of Crecy and Poitiers Treadwell Walden

The Noble Burghers of Calais Charlotte M. Yonge

The Story of Joan of Arc, the Maid Who Saved France Anonymous

How Joan the Maid Took Largess from the English Anonymous

Death of Joan the Maid Anonymous

How Catherine Douglas Tried to Save King James of Scotland Charlotte
M. Yonge

The Brave Queen of Hungary Charlotte M. Yonge

The Story of Christopher Columbus for Little Children Elizabeth

A Sea-Fight in the Time of Queen Bess Charles Kingsley

A Brave Scottish Chief Anonymous

The Adventure of Grizel Cochrane Arthur Quiller-Couch

With this many authors, one excerpt may not mean that much, but here’s one anyway:


By Treadwell Walden

Almost every one has heard of the famous battles of Crecy and Poitiers, which were so much alike in all that made them remarkable that they are generally coupled together,—one always reminding us of the other. Yet there is one point they had in common which has not been especially remarked, but which ought to link them memorably together in the imagination of young people.

These two great battles really took place ten years apart; for one was fought in 1346 and the other in 1356. The battle-fields also were wide apart; for Crecy was far in the north of France, near the coast of the English Channel, and Poitiers away in the south, deep in the interior, nearly three hundred miles from Crecy. But they have drawn near to each other in the mind of students of history, because in both cases the French largely outnumbered the English; in both cases the English had gone so far into the country that their retreat seemed to be cut off; in both cases there was a most surprising and unexpected result, for the French were terribly defeated; and in both cases this happened because they made the same mistake: they trusted so much to their overwhelming numbers, to their courage and their valor, that they forgot to be careful about anything else, while the English made up for their small numbers by prudence, discipline, and skill, without which courage and valor are often of no avail.

It is quite exciting to read the description of these battles, with their archery fights, the clashing together of furious knights, the first brave advance and the final running away; but, after a while, the battles at large seem to fade out in the greater interest which surrounds the figures of two youngsters,—one hardly more than fifteen, the other scarcely fourteen,—for one carried off all the honors of the victory of Crecy, and the other redeemed from total dishonor the defeat of Poitiers. Let us now take up the romantic story of the English lad in the former battle, and of the French lad in the latter.

When, in 1346, Edward III of England had determined upon an invasion of France, he brought over his army in a fleet of nearly a thousand sail. He had with him not only the larger portion of his great nobles, but also his eldest son, Edward Plantagenet, the Prince of Wales. He had good reasons for taking the boy. The prince was expected to become the next King of England. His father evidently thought him able to take a very important part in becoming also the King of France. If all the accounts of him are true, he was a remarkable youth; wonderfully strong and courageous, and wonderfully discreet for his years.

Finally, be sure you read the books you download.=)

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