First Grade Read Aloud Banquet

Songs for March

Baa! Baa! Black Sheep



Cock Robin and Jenny Wren



Warm Hands



Polly Put the Kettle On

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 25 Smells from The Story of Doctor Dolittle by Hugh Lofting Stories about Jefferson from Stories of Great Americans for Little Americans by Edward Eggleston Peanuts from Seed-Babies by Margaret Warner Morley The Hut in the Forest from Fairy Tales Too Good To Miss—Around the Fire by Lisa M. Ripperton The Battle of Marathon from On the Shores of the Great Sea by M. B. Synge The Twins Get Home from The Irish Twins by Lucy Fitch Perkins The Beautiful Baby Who Was Found in a River from Hurlbut's Story of the Bible by Jesse Lyman Hurlbut
White Sheep, Anonymous 		Hoppity by A. A. Milne
Who Stole the Bird's Nest? by Lydia Maria Child 		My Shadow by Robert Louis Stevenson Summer by Christina Georgina Rossetti The House That Jack Built, Anonymous King and Queen by Christina Georgina Rossetti
First row Previous row          Next row Last row
The Aesop for Children  by Milo Winter

The Two Goats

Two Goats, frisking gayly on the rocky steeps of a mountain valley, chanced to meet, one on each side of a deep chasm through which poured a mighty mountain torrent. The trunk of a fallen tree formed the only means of crossing the chasm, and on this not even two squirrels could have passed each other in safety. The narrow path would have made the bravest tremble. Not so our Goats. Their pride would not permit either to stand aside for the other.

One set her foot on the log. The other did likewise. In the middle they met horn to horn. Neither would give way, and so they both fell, to be swept away by the roaring torrent below.

It is better to yield than to come to misfortune through stubbornness.


[Illustration]