When Siren and the Kid are reported missing Nick Justice is determined to find them. After learning they are being held on a remote planet known as Poseidon, a water world far from Alliance space, he and his team race to their rescue. Blaster Squad soon finds themselves having to fight for survival. Someone is determined to stop them and Nick suspects the mysterious figure known as the Master is behind the attacks. They soon discover the Master is plotting to overthrow the galaxy and rule as Emperor throwing civilization into a new dark age ruled by terror and fear. Nick Justice and Blaster Squad are determined to stop them or die trying. ? ? .

The stranger came early in February, one wintry day, through a biting wind and a driving snow, the last snowfall of the year, over the down, walking from Bramblehurst railway station, and carrying a little black portmanteau in his thickly gloved hand. He was wrapped up from head to foot, and the brim of his soft felt hat hid every inch of his face but the shiny tip of his nose; the snow had piled itself against his shoulders and chest, and added a white crest to the burden he carried. He staggered into the "Coach and Horses" more dead than alive, and flung his portmanteau down. "A fire," he cried, "in the name of human charity! A room and a fire!" He stamped and shook the snow from off himself in the bar, and followed Mrs. Hall into her guest parlour to strike his bargain. And with that much introduction, that and a couple of sovereigns flung upon the table, he took up his quarters in the inn. Mrs. Hall lit the fire and left him there while she went to prepare him a meal with her own hands. A guest to stop at Iping in the wintertime was an unheard-of piece of luck, let alone a guest who was no "haggler," and she was resolved to show herself worthy of her good fortune. As soon as the bacon was well under way, and Millie, her lymphatic maid, had been brisked up a bit by a few deftly chosen expressions of contempt, she carried the cloth, plates, and glasses into the parlour and began to lay them with the utmost éclat. Although the fire was burning up briskly, she was surprised to see that her visitor still wore his hat and coat, standing with his back to her and staring out of the window at the falling snow in the yard. His gloved hands were clasped behind him, and he seemed to be lost in thought. She noticed that the melting snow that still sprinkled his shoulders dripped upon her carpet. "Can I take your hat and coat, sir?" she said, "and give them a good dry in the kitchen?"

Flaming Island:“Look, Dave. See those strange clouds?” Florence Huyler shaded her eyes to look away toward the horizon. Her face wore an expression of bewildered curiosity. “Yes, I see them. They are queer!” young “Captain Davie,” as everyone called him, replied as he wrinkled his brow. After giving the wheel of his motor-driven craft a turn, he studied those clouds. “Scurrying along the horizon,” he murmured, “they roll quite a bit, don’t they?” “Yes, and such a peculiar shade of yellow,” Florence added. “Oh well, clouds are different up here on Lake Superior.” “Nothing to worry about, I guess,” said Dave, as once again he gave his attention to the wheel.As for Florence, at the moment she had nothing to do but think. And such bitter-sweet thoughts as they were! She was cruising on Lake Superior. That was grand! She had always loved the water. What was still more magnificent, she was landing twice a week on the shores of that place of great enchantment—Isle Royale.Once, you will recall from reading The Phantom Violin, Florence with two companions had made her summer home on a huge wrecked ship off the rocky shores of this very island. What a summer that had been! Adventure? Plenty of it. The ship had at last been completely destroyed during a storm. They had barely escaped with their lives. The girl shuddered a little even now at the thought of it. Florence was large, strong, fearless. A marvelous swimmer and a grand athlete, she had little to fear on land or water. And yet, as her eyes swept the deck of the Wanderer, the sixty-foot motor-boat on which she rode, a troubled look came into her fine blue eyes. Nor were those low, circling clouds the cause of her worry. She and her cousin Dave, quite as courageous and venturesome as she, had embarked upon an enterprise that promised to be a failure.“Grandfather will lose his money. He can’t afford to lose, and it’s not all our fault,” she told herself a little bitterly. But now her thoughts were broken by a short, stout, bronze-faced man, an Indian who appeared at the cabin door.“Look, John!” she pointed, speaking to the Indian. “Look at those strange clouds!”“Huh!” he grunted. “Smoke!”“Sm-smoke!” the girl stared. Then she breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, from Canada! Forest fires. I’ve heard—”

"?nsan ancak evcille?tirirse anlar," dedi tilki."?nsanlar?n art?k anlamaya zamanlar? yok. Dükk?nlardan her istediklerini sat?n al?yorlar. Ama dostluk sat?lan bir dükk?n olmad??? i?in dostlar? yok art?k. E?er dost istiyorsan beni evcille?tir.""Seni evcille?tirmek i?in ne yapmal?y?m?" diye sordu kü?ük prens."?ok sab?rl? olmal?s?n," dedi tilki. "?nce kar??ma, ??yle uza?a ?imenlerin üstüne oturacaks?n.G?zümün ucuyla sana bakaca??m, ama bir ?ey s?ylemeyeceksin. S?zler yanl?? anlamalar?n kayna??d?r. Her gün biraz daha yak?n?ma oturacaks?n..."Ertesi gün kü?ük prens yine geldi."Ayn? saatte gelmen daha iyi olur," dedi tilki. "?rne?in sen ??leden sonra d?rtte geleceksen, ben saat ü?te mutlu olmaya ba?lar?m. Mutlulu?um her dakika artar. Saat d?rtte art?k sevin?ten ve meraktan deli gibi olurum. Ne kadar mutlu oldu?umu g?rmü? olursun. Ama herhangi bir zamanda gelirsen yüre?im saat ka?ta senin i?in ?arpaca??n? bilemez. ?nsan?n belli al??kanl?klar? olmal?..." Tilkinin yan?na d?ndü sonra. "Ho??a kal," dedi. "Ho??a kal," dedi tilki. "??te sana bir s?r, ?ok basit bir ?ey: ?nsan yaln?z yüre?iyle do?ruyu g?rebilir. As?l g?rülmesi gerekeni g?zler g?remez." "As?l g?rülmesi gerekeni g?zler g?remez," diye yineledi kü?ük prens; unutmamal?yd? bunu. "Gülünü senin i?in ?nemli k?lan, onun i?in harcam?? oldu?un zamand?r." "Onun i?in harcam?? oldu?um zaman..." diye yineledi kü?ük prens. Unutmamal?yd? bunu. "?nsanlar unuttular bunu," dedi tilki. "Ama sen unutmamal?s?n. Evcille?tirdi?imiz ?eyden sorumlu oluruz. Sen gülünden sorumlusun..." "Ben gülümden sorumluyum," diye yineledi kü?ük prens. Bunu da unutmamal?yd?. ? Antoine Saint Exupéry (29 Haziran 1900 - 31 Temmuz 1944), Frans?z pilot, yazar ve ?airdir. ?zellikle "Kü?ük Prens" (Le Petit Prince) isimli eseriyle ünlenmi?tir. Fransa'n?n Lyon ?ehrinde do?du. Be? karde?in ü?üncüsüydü. Aristokrat bir aileye mensup olan Exupéry d?rt ya??ndayken babas?n? kaybetti. Babas?n?n ard?ndan aile h?zla yoksulla?t?. Anneleri kültürlü bir kad?nd?. ?lk ??retmenleri anneleri oldu. Exupéry okulda ba?ar?l? de?ildi. ?devlerle aras? yoktu, sürekli ceza al?yordu. U?aklarla 12 ya??nda tan??t?. Evlerinin yan?ndaki hava alan?na gizlice girer u?aklar? yak?ndan seyrederdi. 12 ya??ndayken bir pilot onu u?a??na ald? ve u?urdu. Karde?i Fran?ois'in ?lümü onu ve ailesini ?ok sarst?. Liseyi bitirdikten sonra pilot olmay? ?ok istedi?i halde annesini k?rmamak i?in denizcilik okuluna kaydoldu. 19 ya??nda Ecole des Beaux-Arts'ta mimarl?k fakültesine girdi. 21 ya??nda orduya ?a?r?ld?. E?itimini yar?da b?rak?p askere gitti. Askerlik g?revini Frans?z Hava Kuvvetlerinde teknisyen olarak yapt?. Strasbourg ?ehrinde pilotluk e?itimi ald?. Askerli?in ard?ndan ailesinin iste?i üzerine Paris'te bir ofiste kamyon sat?c?s? olarak ?al??maya ba?lad?. Ticaret ya?ant?s?nda ba?ar?s?z oldu. ? Kü?ük Prens Kü?ük Prens?(Frans?zca??zgün ad?:?Le Petit Prince), Frans?z yazar ve pilot?Antoine de Saint-Exupéry?taraf?ndan yaz?lan ve 1943'te yay?mlanan hik?ye. Dünyan?n en ?ok satan ve okunan kitaplar?ndan biridir.?Eserde bir ?ocu?un g?zünden büyüklerin dünyas? anlat?l?r.?Sahra ??lü'ne dü?en pilotun Kü?ük Prens'le kar??la?mas? ile ba?layan kitap yirmi yedi b?lümden olu?ur. ?zellikle Kü?ük Prens'in yurdundan ayr?l?p alt? ayr? gezegene yapt??? gezileri anlatan b?lümlerde baz? tipik yeti?kin ya?am bi?imlerinin ele?tirisi yap?l?r. Kral?n gezegeni otorite tutkusunu, sanat??n?n gezegeni, kendini be?enmi?li?i ve sanat??n?n toplumla yitirmi? oldu?u ileti?imsizli?i, sarho?un gezegeni, umutsuzluk ve buna dayanan unutma iste?ini, i?adam?n?n ya?ad??? gezegen, ama?s?z sahip olma tutkusunu, fenercinin gezegeni anlams?z ve sorgulamaks?z?n yerine getirilen g?rev duygusunu, co?rafyac?n?n ya?ad??? gezegen ise bilimi kimin i?in yapt???n? unutan bilim adam?n? ve bilim anlay???n? sembolize eder.?Son gezegen ise dünyad?r ve dünya insanlar?n kendi de?erlerinden daha ?ok giysileriyle anlam ve de?er kazand?klar?, bi?imin ?zden daha fazla ?nemli oldu?unu yans?tan bir imge g?rünümündedir. Yazar,?New York'ta bir otel odas?nda kaleme ald??? hik?yenin ?izimlerini de yapm??t?r. Exupéry hem ?izimleri hem de hik?yeleri bir ?ocuk kitab? gibi kurgulam?? olsa da, bu kitap onun moderniteye ve?II. Dünya Sava??'n?n etkilerinin sürmekte oldu?u topluma ele?tirisini ifade etti?i bir kitap olarak da de?erlendirilir. Yazar?n ilham?n? kendi ba??ndan ge?en olaylardan ald??? dü?ünülür. Bir pilot olan Exupéry, 1935 y?l?nda bir h?z rekorunu denerken, Sahra ??lü’nün ortas?na dü?mü?tü. Ayr?ca kar?s? Consuelo’nun Kü?ük Prens gibi bitmek bilmeyen arzular? ve korunma arzusu oldu?u, Kü?ük Prens’in gezegeni gibi volkanlarla dolu El Salvador’da ya?am??t?. Hik?ye ilk defa 6 Nisan 1943’te hem Frans?zca hem ?ngilizce olarak yay?mland?. Günümüzde 210 ayr? dil ve leh?eye ?evrildi.?Türk?e’de 15 farkl? dilde ?evirisi bulunur.?Selim ?leri,?Azra Erhat,?Nihal Ye?inobal?,?Tomris Uyar?ve?Cemal Süreya eseri Türk?e’ye ?evirenler aras?ndad?r. Yazar eseri, dostu Leon Werth’in ?ocuklu?una adam??t?r.

There once lived, in a sequestered part of the county of Devonshire, one Mr Godfrey Nickleby: a worthy gentleman, who, taking it into his head rather late in life that he must get married, and not being young enough or rich enough to aspire to the hand of a lady of fortune, had wedded an old flame out of mere attachment, who in her turn had taken him for the same reason. Thus two people who cannot afford to play cards for money, sometimes sit down to a quiet game for love. Some ill-conditioned persons who sneer at the life-matrimonial, may perhaps suggest, in this place, that the good couple would be better likened to two principals in a sparring match, who, when fortune is low and backers scarce, will chivalrously set to, for the mere pleasure of the buffeting; and in one respect indeed this comparison would hold good; for, as the adventurous pair of the Fives' Court will afterwards send round a hat, and trust to the bounty of the lookers-on for the means of regaling themselves, so Mr Godfrey Nickleby and HIS partner, the honeymoon being over, looked out wistfully into the world, relying in no inconsiderable degree upon chance for the improvement of their means. Mr Nickleby's income, at the period of his marriage, fluctuated between sixty and eighty pounds PER ANNUM. There are people enough in the world, Heaven knows! and even in London (where Mr Nickleby dwelt in those days) but few complaints prevail, of the population being scanty. It is extraordinary how long a man may look among the crowd without discovering the face of a friend, but it is no less true. Mr Nickleby looked, and looked, till his eyes became sore as his heart, but no friend appeared; and when, growing tired of the search, he turned his eyes homeward, he saw very little there to relieve his weary vision. A painter who has gazed too long upon some glaring colour, refreshes his dazzled sight by looking upon a darker and more sombre tint; but everything that met Mr Nickleby's gaze wore so black and gloomy a hue, that he would have been beyond description refreshed by the very reverse of the contrast. At length, after five years, when Mrs Nickleby had presented her husband with a couple of sons, and that embarrassed gentleman, impressed with the necessity of making some provision for his family, was seriously revolving in his mind a little commercial speculation of insuring his life next quarter-day, and then falling from the top of the Monument by accident, there came, one morning, by the general post, a black-bordered letter to inform him how his uncle, Mr Ralph Nickleby, was dead, and had left him the bulk of his little property, amounting in all to five thousand pounds sterling.

Suddenly, Honath lost his temper. "Lose it, then!" he shouted. "Let us unlearn everything we know only by rote, go back to the beginning, learn all over again, and continue to learn, from our own experience. Spokesman, you are an old man, but there are still some of us who haven't forgotten what curiosity means!" "Quiet!" the Spokesman said. "We have heard enough. We call on Alaskon the Navigator.""Much of the Book is clearly untrue," Alaskon said flatly, rising. "As a handbook of small trades it has served us well. As a guide to how the universe is made, it is nonsense, in my opinion; Honath is too kind to it. I've made no secret of what I think, and I still think it." "And will pay for it," the Spokesman said, blinking slowly down at Alaskon. "Charl the Reader.""Nothing," Charl said, without standing, or even looking up."You do not deny the charges?""I've nothing to say," Charl said, but then, abruptly, his head jerked up, and he glared with desperate eyes at the Spokesman. "I can read, Spokesman. I have seen words in the Book of Laws that contradict each other. I've pointed them out. They're facts, they exist on the pages. I've taught nothing, told no lies, preached no unbelief. I've pointed to the facts. That's all.""Seth the Needlesmith, you may speak now." The guards took their hands gratefully off Seth's mouth; they had been bitten several times in the process of keeping him quiet up to now. Seth resumed shouting at once."I'm no part of this group! I'm the victim of gossip, envious neighbors, smiths jealous of my skill and my custom! No man can say worse of me than that I sold needles to this pursemaker—sold them in good faith! The charges against me are lies, all lies!" Honath jumped to his feet in fury, and then sat down again, choking back the answering shout almost without tasting its bitterness. What did it matter? Why should he bear witness against the young man? It would not help the others, and if Seth wanted to lie his way out of Hell, he might as well be given the chance.The Spokesman was looking down at Seth with the identical expression of outraged disbelief which he had first bent upon Honath. "Who was it cut the blasphemies into the hardwood tree, by the house of Hosi the Lawgiver?" he demanded. "Sharp needles were at work there, and there are witnesses to say that your hands held them.""More lies!"

The Wanderer's Necklace was written in the year 1914 by Henry Rider Haggard. This book is one of the most popular novels of Henry Rider Haggard, and has been translated into several other languages around the world.This book is published by Booklassic which brings young readers closer to classic literature globally.

St Mawr was written in the year 1925 by David Herbert Lawrence. This book is one of the most popular novels of David Herbert Lawrence, and has been translated into several other languages around the world.This book is published by Booklassic which brings young readers closer to classic literature globally.

The Captain's Doll was written in the year 1923 by David Herbert Lawrence. This book is one of the most popular novels of David Herbert Lawrence, and has been translated into several other languages around the world.This book is published by Booklassic which brings young readers closer to classic literature globally.

Swallow was written in the year 1898 by Henry Rider Haggard. This book is one of the most popular novels of Henry Rider Haggard, and has been translated into several other languages around the world.This book is published by Booklassic which brings young readers closer to classic literature globally.

THIS is a fierce bad Rabbit; look at his savage whiskers, and his claws and his turned-up tail. THIS is a nice gentle Rabbit. His mother has given him a carrot. THE bad Rabbit would like some carrot.

The Secret of the Island was another of the series of Voyages Extraordinaires which ran through a famous Paris magazine for younger readers, the Magasin Illustré. It formed the third and completing part of the Mysterious Island set of tales of adven-ture. We may count it, taken separately, as next to Robinson Cru-soe and possibly Treasure Island, the best read and the best appre-ciated book in all that large group of island-tales and sea-stories to which it belongs. It gained its vogue immediately in France, Great Britain, and overseas besides being translated, with more or less despatch, into other European tongues. M. Jules Verne must indeed have gained enough by it and its two connective tales to have acquired an island of his own. The present book was translated into English by the late W.H.G. Kingston; and is printed in Everyman’s Library by special exclusive arrangement with Messrs Sampson Low.. Chapter One. It was now two years and a half since the castaways from the balloon had been thrown on Lincoln Island, and during that period there had been no communication between them and their fellow-creatures. Once the reporter had attempted to communicate with the inhabited world by confiding to a bird a letter which contained the secret of their situation, but that was a chance on which it was impossible to reckon seriously. Ayrton, alone, under the circumstances which have been related, had come to join the little colony. Now, suddenly, on this day, the 17th of October, other men had unexpectedly appeared in sight of the island, on that deserted sea! ABOUT AUTHOR: Jules Gabriel Verne (1828 – 1905) was a French novelist, poet, and playwright best known for his adventure novels and his profound influence on the literary genre of science fiction. Verne was born to bourgeois parents in the seaport of Nantes, where he was trained to follow in his father's footsteps as a lawyer, but quit the profession early in life to write for magazines and the stage. His collaboration with the publisher Pierre-Jules Hetzel led to the creation of the Voyages Extraordinaires, a widely popular series of scrupulously researched adventure novels including Journey to the Center of the Earth, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and Around the World in Eighty Days. Verne is generally considered a major literary author in France and most of Europe, where he has had a wide influence on the literary avant-garde and on surrealism. His reputation is markedly different in Anglophone regions, where he has often been labeled a writer of genre fiction or children's books, not least because of the highly abridged and altered translations in which his novels are often reprinted.

Otfried Preussler, a Torzonborz-trilógia és A kis szellem alkotójának újabb kedves regénye a Kolibri Klasszikusok sorozatban.

The Ladybird was written in the year 1923 by David Herbert Lawrence. This book is one of the most popular novels of David Herbert Lawrence, and has been translated into several other languages around the world.This book is published by Booklassic which brings young readers closer to classic literature globally.

Hark! hark! the dogs bark,The beggars are coming to town;Some in rags and some in tags,And some in a silken gown.Some gave them white bread,And some gave them brown,And some gave them a good horse-whip,And sent them out of the town. Little Jack Horner sat in the corner,Eating a Christmas pie;He put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum,And said, oh! what a good boy am I.

Children, as well as their interested parents, will eagerly welcome this beautiful edition of the one great nursery classic, just as a worthy edition of Shakespeare is welcomed by discriminating adult readers.? But some may ask what there is in these simple melodies, attributed to Mother Goose, which gives them so secure and beloved a place in the home, the school and the public library. Is it the humor, the action, the rhythm, or the mystery of the theme which appeals so strongly to critical little minds in each generation of childhood, and even to adult minds so fortunate as to have retained some of the refreshing naiveté of early years?? It is useless to try to explain the charm of these nonsense melodies. The children themselves do not know why they love them. No mother can tell us the magic of the spell which seems to be cast over her restless baby as she croons to it a Mother Goose lullaby. No primary teacher quite understands why the mere repetition or singing of a Mother Goose jingle will transform her listless, inattentive class into one all eagerness and attention. But mother and teacher agree that the best of these verses have an even more potent influence than that of innocently diverting and entertaining the child. The healthy moral, so subtly suggested in many of the rhymes, is unconsciously absorbed by the child's receptive mind, helping him to make his own distinction between right and wrong, bravery and cowardice, generosity and selfishness.?From a literary standpoint, also, these rhymes have proved of real value in creating a taste for the truly musical in poetry and song. They train the ear and stir the imagination of the child as no other verses do. Many famous poets and writers trace their first inspiration, and love for things literary, back to the nursery songs and fairy tales of their childhood.??Teachers well know that children who have reveled in these rhymes and stories, at the time of their strongest appeal, step naturally and appreciatively into the great fields of good literature which are beyond.?Knowing these things to be true, we do not hesitate to place this venerable classic on the shelf beside our Shakespeare, and to send our children there for delight and inspiration. They will understand Shakespeare the better for having known and loved Mother Goose.?But what about the personality of this classic writer? Was she really Mistress Elizabeth Goose who is said to have lived in Boston about two hundred years ago, and who crooned her nonsense jingles to a large and happy family of grandchildren? We are told that their father, Thomas Fleet, who was a printer by trade, thought to turn an honest penny with his mother-in-law's popular verses, so he published them in a small volume under the title of "Songs for the Nursery: or, Mother Goose's Melodies." A goose with a very long neck and a wide-open mouth flew across the title page, at least so the story goes. But we have to believe that it is only a story, for no copy of the book can be found, and nothing but tradition identifies Elizabeth Goose, the Boston grandmother, with the famous rhymester.

The Plumed Serpent was written in the year 1926 by David Herbert Lawrence. This book is one of the most popular novels of David Herbert Lawrence, and has been translated into several other languages around the world.This book is published by Booklassic which brings young readers closer to classic literature globally.

Blaster Squad #3 Planet of Doom

Blaster Squad #2 Sea of Death

PREFACE?All the stories about Princes and Princesses in this book are true stories, and were written by Mrs. Lang, out of old books of history. There are some children who make life difficult by saying, first that stories about fairies are true, and that they like fairies; and next that they do not like true stories about real people, who lived long ago. I am quite ready to grant that there really are such things as fairies, because, though I never saw a fairy, any more than I have seen the little animals which lecturers call molecules and ions, still I have seen people who have seen fairies—truthful people. ??This book about Princes and Princesses is not one which a child is obliged to read. Indeed the stories are not put in order, beginning with the princes who lived longest ago and coming down gradually to people who lived nearest our own time. The book opens with the great Napoleon Bonaparte, who died when some very old people still living were alive. Napoleon was not born a prince, far from it; his father was only a poor gentleman on a wild rough little island. But he made himself not merely a king, but the greatest of all emperors and generals in war. He is not held up as a person whom every boy should try to imitate, but it is a truth that Napoleon always remained a boy in his heart. He liked to make up stories of himself, doing wonderful things which even he was unable to do. When he was a boy he played at being a general, making snow fortresses and besieging them, just as many boys do. And when he was a man he dreamed of conquering all the East, Asia, and India, and Australia; and he tried to do all that, but it was too much even for him.

Philip Haldane and his sister lived in a little red-roofed house in a little redroofed town. They had a little garden and a little balcony, and a little stable with a little pony in it—and a little cart for the pony to draw; a little canary hung in a little cage in the little bow-window, and the neat little servant kept everything as bright and clean as a little new pin. Philip had no one but his sister, and she had no one but Philip. Their parents were dead, and Helen, who was twenty years older than Philip and was really his half-sister, was all the mother he had ever known. And he had never envied other boys their mothers, because Helen was so kind and clever and dear. She gave up almost all her time to him; she taught him all the lessons he learned; she played with him, inventing the most wonderful new games and adventures. ABOUT AUTHOR: Edith Nesbit (married name Edith Bland; 1858 – 1924) was an English author and poet; she published her books for children under the name of E. Nesbit. She wrote or collaborated on over 60 books of fiction for children, several of which have been adapted for film and television. She was also a political activist and co-founded the Fabian Society, a socialist organisation later connected to the Labour Party.