# bib

id: 23763
author: Chapman, Allen
title: Fred Fenton on the Track; Or, The Athletes of Riverport School
extension: .txt
mime: text/plain
words: 45860
sentence: 2464
flesch: 86
cache: cache/23763.txt
txt: txt/23763.txt
summary:
  While this story finishes the present series of tales devoted to the school life and athletic doings of Fred Fenton, it is possible that the reader may once more be given the pleasure and privilege of meeting Fred and his friends in some other future field of spirited rivalry. He asked many times how Fred felt, and if there was anything like rubbing down he needed, in order to limber up some muscle that might not feel just right.


id: 34728
author: Grove, Harriet Pyne
title: Betty Lee, Sophomore
extension: .txt
mime: text/plain
words: 48838
sentence: 3117
flesch: 88
cache: cache/34728.txt
txt: txt/34728.txt
summary:
  At the top of the stairs Betty saw Mathilde usher Lucia inside of the lunch room, though Lucia turned and looked inquiringly at Betty. 'Bye! CHAPTER III: THE GREAT SURPRISE Betty Lee had not forgotten that, in the nature of a reward, she was to have a surprise at the end of the summer; but nothing had been said about it by her father and Betty felt a delicacy about reminding him of it.


id: 12690
author: Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving)
title: The High School Pitcher; or, Dick & Co. on the Gridley Diamond
extension: .txt
mime: text/plain
words: 49173
sentence: 3557
flesch: 90
cache: cache/12690.txt
txt: txt/12690.txt
summary:
  The night before Christmas Dick Prescott attended a ball, in his new capacity of reporter. As he bent his head low behind a bulky textbook, Dan Dalzell, of the sophomore class, glanced over at Dick Prescott with sparkling mischief gleaming in his eyes.


id: 48849
author: Colton, Matthew M.
title: Frank Armstrong, Drop Kicker
extension: .txt
mime: text/plain
words: 60769
sentence: 3765
flesch: 89
cache: cache/48849.txt
txt: txt/48849.txt
summary:
  Bust my bulkhead, if it isn't little Frank Armstrong! Surest thing you know, Captain Silas, shouted Frank, treading water and keeping his hands going at the same time with a fin-like motion that held him out of the water to his shoulders. Please, are you Frank Armstrong? I'm that chap, said Frank, scratching away with his pencil.


