Historical Fiction (13-18)

During the late sixteenth century the Reformation was sweeping across Europe. As the Bible became a loved book by the common man, many people questioned the beliefs and practices of the Roman Catholic Church at the perils of their lives. By torture and cruel deaths the priests attempted to return these “rebels” to the church. In the midst of this battle Guido de Bres lived as he died — trusting God and keeping the faith. Nearly five hundred years have passed since he was born, but the confession of faith written by Guido de Bres — a wonderful summary of God’s Word — continues to live on in the lives of Reformed people around the world. This book, written by one of his descendants, is about Guido de Bres. It describes the time in which he lived, and the confession of faith God allowed him to write. Though intended for older children it also will be enjoyed by adults.

The King of Hungary’s Blacksmith and other Stories “Well, Master Jailer, how goes it? Have you heard anything?” asked the young man in an eager whisper. The jailer laid his hand compassionately on his shoulder. “Heavy tidings for thee, poor lad,” he said. “He will likely die.” The answer was a deep groan, heard distinctly through all the uproar of the crowded room. Then silence; then a broken murmur, “Poor Maida — poor baby!” choked by something very like the suppressed sob of a strong man. The Young Burning Hearts Series is aseries of fascinating independent stories for young and old of faithfulness in trying times.

A Tale of theHeroic Times in Old Geneva They had now reached the Forte Neuve, by which they entered the town, with many others who were returning from the Plain-palais. As they walked along the Corratorie they met Berthelier and Gabrielle, taking the air, as the afternoon was very fine for the season of the year. Both the lads saluted; De Marsac with a flush and a beaming smile. “I did not know you knew them,” said Norbert. “Oh yes; did I not tell you I was going to see them? Master Berthelier’s sister, Damoiselle Claudine, and I are fast friends. Some years ago when I came here first, a mere child, I was one day in the market, looking about me and buying cherries or the like, when I saw this poor damoiselle being frightened half out of her senses by a group of angry, scolding fish-women. That was before such good order was put in the market, and in all the town, thanks to Master Calvin. She had told them, quite truly, that they were trying to cheat her. I fought her battle with all my might, which in truth was not great, and at last brought her home in triumph. She was much more grateful than the occasion required, and has been my very good friend ever since. I — they — they are all good to me, though lately, being much occupied with my studies, I have seen them but seldom.” “Do you not think the young damoiselle very pretty?” asked Norbert. “I do.” “She is beautiful,” Louis answered quietly; and the subject dropped.

A Tale of the New World “A good ending to your story,” said the monk, smiling. “It is not quite the end,” José answered. “The Auqui came in triumph to the place where his father was. Then the old Inca took from his head the llautu — the sacred crimson fringe — and the black and white wing-feathers of the coraquenque, and he put them on the head of the brave young Auqui; and he bade his captains bear him aloft in the golden chair, and salute him as mighty Inca, Child of the Sun, Friend of the Poor. From then on the Auqui reigned gloriously. He took to himself the name of the bright spirit that appeared to him on the plains of Chita — Viracocha, ‘foam of the sea.’ He built a beautiful temple in his honour. The work was long, and took many years to finish; but he saw it finished, for he reigned until his hair was white as the snow of the Andes.”