First Grade Read Aloud Banquet



Songs for July

Over the Hills and Far Away



Bo-Peep



Buy a Broom



Lucy Locket






Elf and Dormouse

Under a toadstool

Crept a wee Elf,

Out of the rain

To shelter himself.


Under the toadstool,

Sound asleep,

Sat a big Dormouse

All in a heap.


Trembled the wee Elf

Frightened, and yet

Fearing to fly away

Lest he get wet.


To the next shelter

Maybe a mile

Sudden the wee Elf

Smiled a wee smile.


Tugged till the toadstool

Toppled in two

Holding it over him

Gayly he flew.


Soon he was safe home,

Dry as could be.

Soon woke the Dormouse

"Good gracious me!


Where is my toadstool!"

Loud he lamented,

And that's how umbrellas

First were invented.


  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 Milkmaid and Her Pail

A Milkmaid had been out to milk the cows and was returning from the field with the shining milk pail balanced nicely on her head. As she walked along, her pretty head was busy with plans for the days to come.

"This good, rich milk," she reused, "will give me plenty of cream to churn. The butter I make I will take to market, and with the money I get for it I will buy a lot of eggs for hatching. How nice it will be when they are all hatched and the yard is full of fine young chicks. Then when May day comes I will sell them, and with the money I'll buy a lovely new dress to wear to the fair. All the young men will look at me. They will come and try to make love to me,—but I shall very quickly send them about their business!"

As she thought of how she would settle that matter, she tossed her head scornfully, and down fell the pail of milk to the ground. And all the milk flowed out, and with it vanished butter and eggs and chicks and new dress and all the milkmaid's pride.

Do not count your chickens before they are hatched.


[Illustration]