First Grade Read Aloud Banquet

Songs for April

If All the World Were Paper



The Little Cock Sparrow



Ye Song of Sixpence



My Lady's Garden

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 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]