I went to a pretty small school. By some time during second grade, I had read all of the books in the school library that they would let grades 1-5 check out - for some stupid reason, they wouldn't let us check out the books deemed suitable for junior high kids, So my sister started bringing home books from the high school library for me. Then, when she went off to college, she brought home books from the university library for me. That kept me in books through fourth and fifth grade, and when I got to sixth grade, I started working my way through the junior high library.
Books were a real treat - I got books for my birthday and Christmas. My mother would go to the school book fairs, and being unfamiliar with the English language classics, would ask what the *good* books were,and bought those for me, together with the Russian authors who were familiar to her. So I ended up reading Wuthering Heights, Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Anna Karenina, The Brothers Karamazov, Far from the Madding Crowd, etc. in junior high. The Russian ones especially were a little dense for me on an emotional level; I found them depressing, and I've never been able to bring myself to read any of the Russian classics since.
Also, since all of the books that we had at home were German ones, I taught myself to read German during the summer after second grade by reading The Leatherstocking Tales in German, and from there reading all the Karl May books my mother had, Pearl S. Buck in German, etc. (There was no public library in town, so my summers were spent scrounging for reading material. I cannot express the joy I felt went a bookmobile started making it to town eventually.)