First Grade Read Aloud Banquet

Songs for February

Hot Cross Buns



Natural History



Pussy Cat



Warm Hands

The Land of Story-Books

At evening when the lamp is lit,

Around the fire my parents sit;

They sit at home and talk and sing,

And do not play at anything.


Now, with my little gun, I crawl

All in the dark along the wall,

And follow round the forest track

Away behind the sofa back.


There, in the night, where none can spy,

All in my hunter's camp I lie,

And play at books that I have read

Till it is time to go to bed.


These are the hills, these are the woods,

These are my starry solitudes;

And there the river by whose brink

The roaring lions come to drink.


I see the others far away

As if in firelit camp they lay,

And I, like to an Indian scout,

Around their party prowled about.


So when my nurse comes in for me,

Home I return across the sea,

And go to bed with backward looks

At my dear land of Story-Books.

  Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday
Week 2 My Father Runs Away from My Father's Dragon by Ruth Stiles Gannett Marquette in Iowa from Stories of Great Americans for Little Americans by Edward Eggleston The Lonely Little Pig from Among the Farmyard People by Clara Dillingham Pierson Brier Rose from Fairy Tales Too Good To Miss—Up the Stairs by Lisa M. Ripperton Into Africa from On the Shores of the Great Sea by M. B. Synge The Twins Learn a New Trade (Part 1 of 2) from The Swiss Twins by Lucy Fitch Perkins Saint Kentigern (Part 2 of 2) from Our Island Saints by Amy Steedman
Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee, Anonymous Buckingham Palace by A. A. Milne
Little Jack Frost, Anonymous 		The Land of Counterpane by Robert Louis Stevenson Winter-Time by Robert Louis Stevenson The Baby by George MacDonald The Year by Christina Georgina Rossetti
First row Previous row          Next row Last row
The Aesop for Children  by Milo Winter

The Ants and the Grasshopper

One bright day in late autumn a family of Ants were bustling about in the warm sunshine, drying out the grain they had stored up during the summer, when a starving Grasshopper, his fiddle under his arm, came up and humbly begged for a bite to eat.

"What!" cried the Ants in surprise, "haven't you stored anything away for the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer?"

"I didn't have time to store up any food," whined the Grasshopper; "I was so busy making music that before I knew it the summer was gone."


[Illustration]

The Ants shrugged their shoulders in disgust.

"Making music, were you?" they cried. "Very well; now dance!" And they turned their backs on the Grasshopper and went on with their work.

There's a time for work and a time for play.