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The beginning of things - They were not railway children at the beginning...
The house was three miles from the station, but before the dusty hired fly had rattled along for five minutes the children began to put their heads out of the carriage window and to say, 'Aren't we nearly there?'
There were three of them-Jerry, Jimmy, and Kathleen. Of course, Jerry's name was Gerald, and not Jeremiah, whatever you may think; and Jimmy's name was James; and Kathleen was never called by her name at all, but Cathy, or Catty, or Puss Cat, when her brothers were pleased with her, and Scratch Cat when they were not pleased.
It began with the day when it was almost the Fifth of November, and a doubt arose in some breast - Robert's, I fancy - as to the quality of the fireworks laid in for the Guy Fawkes celebration.
There were once four children who spent their summer holidays in a white house, happily situated between a sandpit and a chalkpit.
This is the story of the different ways we looked for treasure, and I think when you have read it you will see that we were not lazy about the looking.
Children are like jam: all very well in the proper place, but you can't stand them all over the shop-eh, what?
In the register of baptisms of the parish church of Stratford-upon-Avon, a market town in Warwickshire, England, appears, under date of April 26, 1564, the entry of the baptism of William, the son of John Shakspeare.