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 51 Vixen, the Naughty Reindeer from The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by Amelia C. Houghton Nicholas Goes Down the Chimney from The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by Amelia C. Houghton The Little Tree That Longed for Other Leaves from Good Stories for Great Holidays by Frances Jenkins Olcott Why the Chimes Rang from Fairy Tales Too Good To Miss—Up the Stairs by Lisa M. Ripperton The First Christmas Tree from The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by Amelia C. Houghton A Present for Nicholas from The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by Amelia C. Houghton Holly Gets Its Name from The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by Amelia C. Houghton
A Christmas Carol by Christina Georgina Rossetti Kriss Kringle by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Santa Claus, Anonymous 		A Christmas Song by Phillips Brooks An Old English Carol, Anonymous The Waits by Margaret Deland A Christmas Hymn by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Aesop for Children  by Milo Winter

The Fox and the Grapes

A Fox one day spied a beautiful bunch of ripe grapes hanging from a vine trained along the branches of a tree. The grapes seemed ready to burst with juice, and the Fox's mouth watered as he gazed longingly at them.


[Illustration]

The bunch hung from a high branch, and the Fox had to jump for it, The first time he jumped he missed it by a long way. So he walked off a short distance and took a running leap at it, only to fall short once more. Again and again he tried, but in vain.

Now he sat down and looked at the grapes in disgust.

"What a fool I am," he said. "Here I am wearing myself out to get a bunch of sour grapes that are not worth gaping for."

And off he walked very, very scornfully.

There are many who pretend to despise and belittle that which is beyond their reach.