First Grade Read Aloud Banquet

Songs for December

I Saw Three Ships



The Mulberry Bush



The North Wind and the Robin



Dance a Baby

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 47 The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum
The Country of the Quadlings from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum 		A Wonderful Woman from Stories of Great Americans for Little Americans by Edward Eggleston The Discontented Guinea Hen from Among the Farmyard People by Clara Dillingham Pierson The Little Jackals and the Lion from Fairy Tales Too Good To Miss—Up the Stairs by Lisa M. Ripperton The End of Carthage from On the Shores of the Great Sea by M. B. Synge The Secret Meeting (Part 1 of 2) from The Mexican Twins by Lucy Fitch Perkins The Story of Job from Hurlbut's Story of the Bible by Jesse Lyman Hurlbut
Moon, So Round and Yellow by Matthias Barr 		Jonathan Jo by A. A. Milne
Thanksgiving Day by Lydia Maria Child
The Rain by Robert Louis Stevenson 		Little Things, Anonymous Calico Pie by Edward Lear Mix a Pancake by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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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]