Revisit old favorites and discover even more facts and stories. The perfect pocket book for any girl on a quest for knowledge. Includes New Chapters + the Best Wisdom & Wonder from The Daring Book for Girls

The task is simple: Don a disguise. Survive the labyrinth . . . Best the boys. Every year for the past fifty-four years, the residents of Pinsbury Port have received a mysterious letter inviting all eligible-aged boys to compete for an esteemed scholarship to the all-male Stemwick University. The poorer residents look to see if their names are on the list. The wealthier look to see how likely their sons are to survive. And Rhen Tellur opens it to see if she can derive which substances the ink and parchment are created from, using her father’s microscope. In the province of Caldon, where women train in wifely duties and men pursue collegiate education, sixteen-year-old Rhen Tellur wants nothing more than to become a scientist. As the poor of her seaside town fall prey to a deadly disease, she and her father work desperately to find a cure. But when her mum succumbs to it as well? Rhen decides to take the future into her own hands—through the annual all-male scholarship competition. With her cousin, Seleni, by her side, the girls don disguises and enter Mr. Holm’s labyrinth, to best the boys and claim the scholarship prize. Except not everyone is ready for a girl who doesn’t know her place. And not everyone survives the deadly maze. Welcome to the labyrinth. Praise for To Best the Boys: “Atmospheric, romantic, inspiring.” —KRISTEN CICCARELLI, internationally bestselling author of The Last Namsara "Smart, determined, and ready to take on the world: Rhen Tellur is an outstanding heroine with every reason to win a competition historically intended for boys." —Jodi Meadows, New York Times bestselling author of The Incarnate Trilogy and coauthor of My Lady Jane A “Hunger Games/Handmaid’s Tale mash-up.” —BN Teen Blog

Stories, articles, interviews, puzzles, games, jokes, and other miscellaneous writings for boys.

It was the 9th of March, 1860, and eleven o’clock at night. The sea and sky were as one, and the eye could pierce but a few fathoms into the gloom. Through the raging sea, over which the waves broke with a livid light, a little ship was driving under almost bare poles. She was a schooner of a hundred tons. Her name was the Sleuth, but you would have sought it in vain on her stern, for an accident of some sort had torn it away. In this latitude, at the beginning of March, the nights are short. The day would dawn about five o’clock. But would the dangers that threatened the schooner grow less when the sun illumined the sky? Was not the frail vessel at the mercy of the waves? Undoubtedly; and only the calming of the billows and the lulling of the gale could save her from that most awful of shipwrecks — foundering in the open sea far from any coast on which the survivors might find safety. In the stern of the schooner were three boys, one about fourteen, the two others about thirteen years of age; these, with a young negro some twelve years old, were at the wheel, and with their united strength strove to check the lurches which threatened every instant to throw the vessel broadside on. It was a difficult task, for the wheel seemed as though it would turn in spite of all they could do, and hurl them against the bulwarks. Just before midnight such a wave came thundering against the stern that it was a wonder the rudder was not unshipped. The boys were thrown backwards by the shock, but they recovered themselves almost immediately. “Does she still steer?” asked one of them. “Yes, Gordon,” answered Briant, who had coolly resumed his place. “Hold on tight, Donagan,” he continued, “and don’t be afraid. There are others besides ourselves to look after. You are not hurt Moko?” “No, Massa Briant,” answered the boy. “But we must keep the yacht before the wind, or we shall be pooped.” At this moment the door of the companion leading to the saloon was thrown open. Two little heads appeared above the level of the deck, and with them came up the genial face of a dog, who saluted with a loud, “Whough! whough!” “Briant! Briant!” shouted one of the youngsters “What is the matter?”