Text of Plan #970
  WEEK 5  


Pinocchio  by Carlo Collodi

Pinocchio Is Hungry

Pinocchio is hungry and searches for an egg to make himself an omelet; but just at the most interesting moment the omelet flies out of the window.

N IGHT was coming on, and Pinocchio, remembering that he had eaten nothing all day, began to feel a gnawing in his stomach that very much resembled appetite.

But appetite with boys travels quickly, and in fact after a few minutes his appetite had become hunger, and in no time his hunger became ravenous—a hunger that was really quite insupportable.


Poor Pinocchio ran quickly to the fire-place where a saucepan was boiling, and was going to take off the lid to see what was in it, but the saucepan was only painted on the wall. You can imagine his feelings. His nose, which was already long, became longer by at least three fingers.

He then began to run about the room, searching in the drawers and in every imaginable place, in hopes of finding a bit of bread. If it was only a bit of dry bread, a crust, a bone left by a dog, a little mouldy pudding of Indian corn, a fish bone, a cherry stone—in fact anything that he could gnaw. But he could find nothing, nothing at all, absolutely nothing.

And in the meanwhile his hunger grew and grew; and poor Pinocchio had no other relief than yawning, and his yawns were so tremendous that sometimes his mouth almost reached his ears. And after he had yawned he spluttered, and felt as if he was going to faint.

Then he began to cry desperately, and he said:

"The Talking-cricket was right. I did wrong to rebel against my papa and to run away from home. . . . If my papa was here I should not now be dying of yawning! Oh! what a dreadful illness hunger is!"

Just then he thought he saw something in the dust-heap—something round and white that looked like a hen's egg. To give a spring and seize hold of it was the affair of a moment. It was indeed an egg.

Pinocchio's joy beats description; it can only be imagined. Almost believing it must be a dream he kept turning the egg over in his hands, feeling it and kissing it. And as he kissed it he said:

"And now, how shall I cook it? Shall I make an omelet? . . . No, it would be better to cook it in a saucer! . . . Or would it not be more savoury to fry it in the frying-pan? Or shall I simply boil it? No, the quickest way of all is to cook it in a saucer: I am in such a hurry to eat it!"

Without loss of time he placed an earthenware saucer on a brazier full of red-hot embers. Into the saucer instead of oil or butter he poured a little water; and when the water began to smoke, tac! . . . he broke the egg-shell over it that the contents might drop in. But instead of the white and the yolk a little chicken popped out very gay and polite. Making a beautiful courtesy it said to him:

"A thousand thanks, Master Pinocchio, for saving me the trouble of breaking the shell. Adieu until we meet again. Keep well, and my best compliments to all at home!"


Thus saying it spread its wings, darted through the open window, and flying away was lost to sight.


Thus saying it spread its wings.

The poor puppet stood as if he had been bewitched, with his eyes fixed, his mouth open, and the egg-shell in his hand. Recovering, however, from his first stupefaction, he began to cry and scream, and to stamp his feet on the floor in desperation, and amidst his sobs he said:

"Ah! indeed the Talking-cricket was right. If I had not run away from home, and if my papa was here, I should not now be dying of hunger! Oh! what a dreadful illness hunger is! . . ."

And as his stomach cried out more than ever and he did not know how to quiet it, he thought he would leave the house and make an excursion in the neighbourhood in hopes of finding some charitable person who would give him a piece of bread.



Viking Tales  by Jennie Hall



E VERY day the boy Harald heard some such story of war or of the gods, until he could see Thor riding among the storm-clouds and throwing his hammer, until he knew that a brave man has many wounds, but never a one on his back. Many nights he dreamed that he himself walked into Valhalla, and that all the heroes stood up and shouted:

"Welcome! Harald Halfdanson!"

"Ah! the bite of the sword is sweeter than the kiss of your mother," he said to Olaf one day. "When shall I stand in the prow of a dragon and feast on the fight? I am hungry to see the world. Ivar the Far-goer tells me of the strange countries he has seen. Ah! we vikings are great folk. There is no water that has not licked our boats' sides. This cape of mine came in a viking boat from France. These cloak-pins came from a far country called Greece. In my father's house are golden cups from Rome, away on the southern sea. Every land pours rich things into our treasure-chest. Ivar has been to a strange country where it is all sand and is very hot. The people call their country Arabia. They have never heard of Thor or Odin. Ivar brought beautiful striped cloth from there, and wonderful, sweet-smelling waters. Oh! when shall the white horses of the sea lead me out to strange lands and glorious battles?"

But Harald did something besides listen to stories. Every morning he was up at sunrise and went with a thrall to feed the hunting dogs. Thorstein taught him to swim in the rough waters of the fiord. Often he went with the men a-hunting in the woods and learned to ride a horse and pull a bow and throw a lance. Ivar taught him to play the harp and to make up songs. He went much to the smithy, where the warriors mended their helmets and made their spears and swords of iron and bronze. At first he only watched the men or worked the bellows, but soon he could handle the tongs and hold the red-hot iron, and after a long time he learned to use the hammer and to shape metal. One day he made himself a spear-head. It was two feet long and sharp on both edges. While the iron was hot he beat into it some runes. When the men in the smithy saw the runes they opened their eyes wide and looked at the boy, for few Norsemen could read.

"What does it say?" they asked.

"It is the name of my spear-point, and it says, 'Foes'-fear,' " Harald said. "But now for a handle."

It was winter and the snow was very deep. So Harald put on his skees and started for a wood that was back from shore. Down the mountains he went, twenty, thirty feet at a slide, leaping over chasms a hundred feet across. In his scarlet cloak he looked like a flash of fire. The wind shot past him howling. His eyes danced at the fun.

"It is like flying," he thought and laughed. "I am an eagle. Now I soar," as he leaped over a frozen river.

He saw a slender ash growing on top of a high rock.

"That is the handle for 'Foes'-fear,' " he said.

The rock stood up like a ragged tower, but he did not stop because of the steep climb. He threw off his skees and thrust his hands and feet into holes of the rock and drew himself up. He tore his jacket and cut his leather leggings and scratched his face and bruised his hands, but at last he was on the top. Soon he had chopped down the tree and had cut a straight pole ten feet long and as big around as his arm. He went down, sliding and jumping and tearing himself on the sharp stones. With a last leap he landed near his skees. As he did so a lean wolf jumped and snapped at him, snarling. Harald shouted and swung his pole. The wolf dodged, but quickly jumped again and caught the boy's arm between his sharp teeth. Harald thought of the spear-point in his belt. In a wink he had it out and was striking with it. He drove it into the wolf's neck and threw him back on the snow, dead.


"He drove it into the wolf's neck."

"You are the first to feel the tooth of 'Foes'-fear,' " he said, "but I think you will not be the last."

Then without thinking of his torn arm he put on his skees and went leaping home. He went straight to the smithy and smoothed his pole and drove it into the haft of the spear-point. He hammered out a gold band and put it around the joining place. He made nails with beautiful heads and drove them into the pole in different places.

"If it is heavy it will strike hard," he said.

Then he weighed the spear in his hand and found the balancing point and put another gold band there to mark it.

Thorstein came in while he was working.

"A good spear," he said.

Then he saw the torn sleeve and the red wound beneath.

''Hello!" he cried. "Your first wound?"

"Oh, it is only a wolf-scratch," Harald answered.

"By Thor!" cried Thorstein, "I see that you are ready for better wounds. You bear this like a warrior."

"I think it will not be my last," Harald said.


James Whitcomb Riley

A Sea Song from the Shore

Hail! Ho!

Sail! Ho!

Ahoy! Ahoy! Ahoy!

Who calls to me,

So far at sea?

Only a little boy!

Sail! Ho!

Hail! Ho!

The sailor he sails the sea:

I wish he would capture

A little sea-horse

And send him home to me.

I wish, as he sails

Through the tropical gales,

He would catch me a sea-bird, too,

With its silver wings

And the song it sings,

And its breast of down and dew!

I wish he would catch me a

Little mermaid,

Some island where he lands,

With her dripping curls,

And her crown of pearls,

And the looking-glass in her hands!

Hail! Ho!

Sail! Ho!

Sail far o'er the fabulous main!

And if I were a sailor,

I'd sail with you,

Though I never sailed back again.


  WEEK 5  


Fifty Famous Stories Retold  by James Baldwin

The White Ship

K ING HENRY, the Handsome Scholar, had one son named William, whom he dearly loved. The young man was noble and brave, and everybody hoped that he would some day be the King of England.

One summer Prince William went with his father across the sea to look after their lands in France. They were welcomed with joy by all their people there, and the young prince was so gallant and kind, that he won the love of all who saw him.

But at last the time came for them to go back to England. The king, with his wise men and brave knights, set sail early in the day; but Prince William with his younger friends waited a little while. They had had so joyous a time in France that they were in no great haste to tear themselves away.

Then they went on board of the ship which was waiting to carry them home. It was a beautiful ship with white sails and white masts, and it had been fitted up on purpose for this voyage.

The sea was smooth, the winds were fair and no one thought of danger. On the ship, everything had been arranged to make the trip a pleasant one. There was music and dancing, and everybody was merry and glad.

The sun had gone down before the white-winged vessel was fairly out of the bay. But what of that? The moon was at its full, and it would give light enough; and before the dawn of the morrow, the narrow sea would be crossed. And so the prince, and the young people who were with him, gave themselves up to merriment and feasting and joy.

The earlier hours of the night passed by; and then there was a cry of alarm on deck. A moment afterward there was a great crash. The ship had struck upon a rock. The water rushed in. She was sinking. Ah, where now were those who had lately been so heart-free and glad?

Every heart was full of fear. No one knew what to do. A small boat was quickly launched, and the prince with a few of his bravest friends leaped into it. They pushed off just as the ship was beginning to settle beneath the waves. Would they be saved?

They had rowed hardly ten yards from the ship, when there was a cry from among those that were left behind.

"Row back!" cried the prince. "It is my little sister. She must be saved!"

The men did not dare to disobey. The boat was again brought alongside of the sinking vessel. The prince stood up, and held out his arms for his sister. At that moment the ship gave a great lurch forward into the waves. One shriek of terror was heard, and then all was still save the sound of the moaning waters.

Ship and boat, prince and princess, and all the gay company that had set sail from France, went down to the bottom together. One man clung to a floating plank, and was saved the next day. He was the only person left alive to tell the sad story.

When King Henry heard of the death of his son, his grief was more than he could bear. His heart was broken. He had no more joy in life; and men say that no one ever saw him smile again.

Here is a poem about him that your teacher may read to you, and perhaps, after a while, you may learn it by heart.

He Never Smiled Again

The bark that held the prince went down,

The sweeping waves rolled on;

And what was England's glorious crown

To him that wept a son?

He lived, for life may long be borne

Ere sorrow breaks its chain:

Why comes not death to those who mourn?

He never smiled again.

There stood proud forms before his throne,

The stately and the brave;

But who could fill the place of one,—

That one beneath the wave?

Before him passed the young and fair,

In pleasure's reckless train;

But seas dashed o'er his son's bright hair—

He never smiled again.

He sat where festal bowls went round;

He heard the minstrel sing;

He saw the tourney's victor crowned

Amid the knightly ring.

A murmur of the restless deep

Was blent with every strain,

A voice of winds that would not sleep—

He never smiled again.

Hearts, in that time, closed o'er the trace

Of vows once fondly poured,

And strangers took the kinsman's place

At many a joyous board;

Graves which true love had bathed with tears

Were left to heaven's bright rain;

Fresh hopes were born for other years—

He never smiled again!

— Mrs. Hemans


Outdoor Visits  by Edith M. Patch

Balsam Fir

§ 2. Balsam Fir

Don and Nan went to visit another kind of cone tree. It was an evergreen, too.

The leaves were narrow and short. Some were a little longer than an inch. Some were about half an inch long. They were green on top and they had two white lines on the under side.

There were some places in the bark that looked like blisters.

Don broke the bark at one of these places. Some balsam ran out. The balsam was a clear sticky juice and it had a pleasant smell.

Don climbed the tree to look for some cones. He did not find all of any cone. He found only the slender, middle part of each cone. He and Nan took these parts to the farm house to show to their uncle.

Nan said, "They look like little sticks standing on top of the branch. They do not hang down like our pine cones."


"The name of that evergreen tree is Balsam Fir," said Uncle Tom. "You can find the fir cones that stand up on the branches in summer. They are sticky then, when they are fresh and growing.

"Some of the cones on fir trees grow about three inches long. Some are longer and some are shorter."

"Why do they look like pieces of broken cones now?" asked Don.

"The small outer parts drop to the ground in the fall," said his uncle.


Christina Georgina Rossetti

How Many Seconds in a Minute?

How many seconds in a minute?

Sixty, and no more in it.

How many minutes in an hour?

Sixty for sun and shower.

How many hours in a day?

Twenty-four for work and play.

How many days in a week?

Seven both to hear and speak.

How many weeks in a month?

Four, as the swift moon runn'th.

How many months in a year?

Twelve the almanac makes clear.

How many years in an age?

One hundred, says the sage.

How many ages in time?

No one knows the rhyme.


  WEEK 5  


The Seasons: Winter  by Jane Marcet

Sliding on the Ice

The next morning, Harry came to play with Willy. He was very glad to see his little friend; but yet he looked downcast, for he could not help thinking of his snowball. He told Harry the disasters that had happened to his two snowballs; and then added, "It was to show it to you, Harry, I wished so much it should not be melted; and I thought how nicely we could have rolled it about together. It was so  large, Harry; you cannot think how large!"

His mother then told his father (who just then came in) how well Willy had behaved upon the loss of his snowball; and Willy was pleased to see his father look at him smiling, and his eyes shining bright, as he knew they did when he was happy.

"Well, Willy," said he, "since you are a good boy, I shall take you and Harry to a place where you will be amused."

"Where is it?" cried the two boys at once; "where can it be?"

"Patience!" cried Papa: "you will know in good time. Go, Willy, and put on your things: you see Harry is ready, for he has not taken off his."

Willy tripped away, and was equipped for his walk in a few minutes; and off they set, full of impatience to know where they were going. But they could not get on fast on account of the quantity of snow: in some places it was so deep, being drifted by the wind, that they were up to their knees, and Papa was obliged to lift them out. They now and then stopped to gather up snow to make into snowballs, and throw at each other; but they were too impatient to see where they were going, to detain Papa on the way. They turned first to the right, then to the left; at length they came to a turning in the road which the boys recollected, because it led to a pretty round pond; which Harry said always put him in mind of his book of verses; and he repeated to Willy—

"There was a round pond, and a pretty pond too,

And about it wild daisies and buttercups grew."

"And can you read that in your book?" said Willy.

"Oh, yes," replied Harry; "and a great many other pretty verses."

"How I wish I were four years and a half old," cried Willy, "that I might read pretty story-books!"

"But," replied Harry, "you will not read at four and a half years old unless you try to learn. There's old Ralph, who works in our garden—I dare say he is near forty years old, and he cannot read, because he never learnt; and he sends all his children to school, that they may learn. He says he is so sorry not to be able to read himself."

"Poor old man!" said Willy. "But I learn to read though I do not go to school: Mamma teaches me."

"And why cannot you read, then?" asked Harry.

"Oh, because I only learn my letters; but I know them all now pretty well; and I begin to spell some little tiny words, such as cat, hat, bat."

"You are a fine scholar, indeed!" cried Harry, laughing "if you do not make more haste, you will never be able to read story-books when you are as old as I am."

"Well, I will try to take more pains when I am at my lesson. Mamma says that my head turns like a whirligig when I am reading, and that I look at every thing but my lesson."

"That is not the way to learn to read," said Harry.

"Well, Harry, you shall see how quiet I will be, and what pains I will take when we go home, and Mamma hears me my lesson."

They now came within sight of the pond.—"Oh! Papa," cried Willy, "I know now where you are going to take us; it is to the pond yonder, to play at ducks-and-drakes (a game which both the boys were very fond of); but why did you not bring Mamma too? she plays at ducks-and-drakes better than any body; she can make the stone jump in and out of the water five or six times running."

"But I am not going to take you to play at ducks-and-drakes, Willy."

"Oh, do, pray, Papa," said Willy, in a supplicating tone: "only just for a little while; we are so near the pond; and Harry is as fond of throwing stones into the water as I am. Are you not, Harry?"

Harry readily assented. Then Papa smiled, and said—"Well, boys, you may play at ducks-and-drakes if you can."

"We can, a little, Papa. I can make a stone jump up out of the water once, sometimes, but not always, I know; but Harry can do it better than I can, because, you know, he is older."

"Well, we shall see," said Papa, laughing; "but I doubt your making a stone rebound from the water  either of you to-day."

As they approached the pond, they observed there were a great many people standing round about it; and, when they got very near, Willy cried out in a tone of affright—"Oh, dear Papa, look at all those boys in the pond!—they will be drowned! I am sure they will be drowned!" And the tears rushed to his eyes.

His Papa said, "Don't be afraid, Willy; I assure you there is no danger."

Then Willy (who had not dared to look at them) opened his eyes as wide as they could stretch, to be sure that what he saw was real; for it looked as if the boys were walking on the water, just as if it had been dry ground. "How can it be, Papa?" cried Willy: "is the water hard, and can they really walk upon it and not fall in?"

"Yes," said his father; "the cold weather has frozen the water, and turned it into ice; and ice is solid and hard, so that you may walk upon it; and it is very slippery, so that you may slide upon it also. Look at those little fellows!—they set off with a run, and then slide away."

Willy's fear was by this time so completely gone, that he not only looked at the boys walking, running, and sliding, but begged his Papa to let him also go on the hard water.

"It is true that it is hard water," said his Papa; "but it is much shorter to call it ice."

He then took them on the pond: and Willy, when he felt how slippery it was, held fast by his Papa's coat; but Harry, who had often walked on ice before, could manage very well for himself.

"And is all the water in the pond hard, Papa?"

"No," replied his father; "only the surface; that is, the upper part of the water. When first the weather is cold enough to freeze water, it is called a frost: but, then, no one could venture to walk on the ice; for it is so thin, that, if you stepped on it, it would break, and you would fall into the water underneath. But, every day, a little more, and a little more of the water freezes; till, after several days, the ice grows thick enough to bear your weight. That is the case now: the frost has lasted about a week, and you see the ice is thick and strong enough to support the weight not only of boys but of men also."

His Papa then showed him a piece of the ice which had been broken, on purpose to see how thick it was: and he took hold of his hand, and ran with him as the other boys did, and finished the run with a slide. Harry followed, and could run and slide alone.

"What fun this is!" cried Willy; "I like it much better than playing at throwing stones in the water. Don't you, Harry?"

But Harry did not hear what he said; or, if he heard, he did not attend to it, for he was busy looking at a great boy who was fastening something on his feet, over his shoes: it looked like pieces of iron; and, when he had finished, he got up and began sliding on the ice, quite in a different manner from the others. He did not begin by a run, but fell sliding first on one foot, then on the other; and went so fast, and it looked so pretty, that Willy began jumping and laughing, as he always did when he was much pleased.

"Oh, do look at that man, Papa, how funny he is: he leans so much on one side, that I fancy he is just going to tip over; then he stretches out one of his arms, and that brings him back again."

"Yes," replied his father: "when he leans so much, he is too heavy on one side, and would certainly fall if he did not stretch out his arm on the other side: that makes him heavier on that side, and so brings him upright again."

"But, look, Harry, he seems as if he was always going to fall on one side or the other."

"Yet he never does," replied Harry: "so you may see he knows how to manage it; and it looks very pretty to see him swing about so."

"Is it those iron things which he has fastened to his feet that make him slide about in that manner?"

"Yes," said his Papa: "it is called skating, and the irons are called skates. Look, now! he is moving on the ice in the form of an S."

"Oh, what a great big S!" exclaimed Willy. Then turning to Harry, he said—"You see, Harry, I know the shape of an S."

"Indeed," replied Harry, "if that is all, you are but a bit of a dunce."

Willy coloured, and well he might; for was it not foolish, knowing so little, to boast of what he knew?

He wanted sadly to have a pair of skates. "You would not know how to use them if you had," said his father: "it requires more strength and more cleverness than you have, my dear. Some things are fit for little boys, and others for great boys, and others for men: it is quite enough for you to slide, I think."

So off Willy set for a slide: he was in too great a hurry, and down he fell. He scarcely hurt himself (I believe only bruised his elbow a little), and he was up on his feet again in an instant.

"So, Willy, you want to learn to skate before you know how to slide," said Papa, laughing; and he patted him on the head, and showed him how he should manage to slide without falling. When they had had a few more slides, he told them it was time to go home: and, indeed, it was full time; for what with the sliding, and what with walking through the deep snow, when they reached home they were quite tired. They were very eager, however, to tell Mamma all they had seen, and all they had done too; for, if he could not skate, Willy was not a little proud of being able to slide, though it had cost him a fall or two.

When they had finished their story, Mamma said that it was now time for Willy to say his lesson.

"What! now that I am tired, Mamma?"

"Well, then, rest a little first."

But just then he recollected what he had said to Harry about taking pains to learn to read. So he ran and fetched his book immediately; and did not look off from it to see what was passing in the room, above once or twice: once when the door opened. How could he help turning round to see who it was came in? It was only the footman, who came to put some coals on the fire. "It was not worth while to look off for that," thought he; "so if the door opens again, I will not turn my head." But, soon after, a carriage stopped before the house; and, as he was standing close by the window, he could not help taking a peep to see what carriage it was.

However, when the lesson was over, his Mamma said he had been much more steady than usual, and that he was a good child.

"It was all because I want so much to read in story-books by myself, Mamma, like Harry."

"That is a very good reason," said his mother; "but I hope you wish to mind your lessons to please me also."

"Oh yes; I will another time, dear Mamma," said he, stretching out his little arms to embrace her; "but to-day I was thinking so much about Harry's story-books, that I thought about nothing else."


The Aesop for Children  by Milo Winter

The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox

A Dog and a Cock, who were the best of friends, wished very much to see something of the world. So they decided to leave the farmyard and to set out into the world along the road that led to the woods. The two comrades traveled along in the very best of spirits and without meeting any adventure to speak of.

At nightfall the Cock, looking for a place to roost, as was his custom, spied nearby a hollow tree that he thought would do very nicely for a night's lodging. The Dog could creep inside and the Cock would fly up on one of the branches. So said, so done, and both slept very comfortably.

With the first glimmer of dawn the Cock awoke. For the moment he forgot just where he was. He thought he was still in the farmyard where it had been his duty to arouse the household at daybreak. So standing on tip-toes he flapped his wings and crowed lustily. But instead of awakening the farmer, he awakened a Fox not far off in the wood. The Fox immediately had rosy visions of a very delicious breakfast. Hurrying to the tree where the Cock was roosting, he said very politely:

"A hearty welcome to our woods, honored sir. I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you here. I am quite sure we shall become the closest of friends."


"I feel highly flattered, kind sir," replied the Cock slyly. "If you will please go around to the door of my house at the foot of the tree, my porter will let you in."

The hungry but unsuspecting Fox, went around the tree as he was told, and in a twinkling the Dog had seized him.

Those who try to deceive may expect to be paid in their own coin.


Laura E. Richards

The Monkeys and the Crocodile

Five little monkeys

Swinging from a tree;

Teasing Uncle Crocodile,

Merry as can be.

Swinging high, swinging low,

Swinging left and right:

"Dear Uncle Crocodile,

Come and take a bite!"

Five little monkeys

Swinging in the air;

Heads up, tails up,

Little do they care.

Swinging up, swinging down,

Swinging far and near:

"Poor Uncle Crocodile,

Aren't you hungry, dear?"

Four little monkeys

Sitting in the tree;

Heads down, tails down,

Dreary as can be.

Weeping loud, weeping low,

Crying to each other:

"Wicked Uncle Crocodile,

To gobble up our brother!"


  WEEK 5  


The Girl Who Sat by the Ashes  by Padraic Colum

Fire for the King's Son



I n the morning early she rose up, opened wide the door and let the Goats go through. She milked a little from the brown Goat and drank the milk for her breakfast. Then she let the seven Goats go by themselves off to the high places and the rocky places.

She went down to the stream and she washed her face and her hands. Then she stood on the bank and the two starlings flew down, lighting one on each shoulder, and they began to sing to her. The song they sang was of the Little Brown Jug that she washed every day and left in the center place on the dresser:

Little Brown Jug,

Don't I love thee?

Bright and brown

Like a kept penny!

I'll fill thee with honey,

I'll fill thee with spice,

I'll border thee with flowers

Of every device.

I'll not let befall thee

A chip or a crack;

I'll leave pewter below thee,

And delph at thy back.

I'll fill thee with spice,

And I'll fill thee with honey,

And I'd not part with thee

For a kettle-full of money.

Little Brown Jug,

Don't I love thee?

Bright and brown

Like a kept penny.

And when the starlings had sung to her, Girl-go-with-the-Goats was not as heavy at heart as she had been before.


Her next stint of work was to take a clappers in her hands and go to the field and frighten the crows from her step-mother's crop. She did this until mid-day, and then hearing a call for her she went to the house. Dame Dale was at the door. She told Girl-go-with-the-Goats to eat her dinner off the board at the gable end of the house and then go and bring back the seven Goats from the high places and the rocky places.

She at her dinner of bread and milk and an egg. Then she brought the Goats home. Her step-mother told her she need not milk them as she had to go to a certain place before the dark of the night came down.

And where had she to go to? To the Forge in the Forest. And what had she to go for? For a pot of fire, no less.

For all that morning Buttercup and Berry-bright, after washing their hands with new milk, sat dizening themselves as before. And Dame Dale, being wearied from her journey, stayed in bed. The consequence of it all was that the fire on the hearth had gone out, and there was no way now of kindling a fire.

And the only place to get fire was at the Forge in the Forest. It wasn't in a forest at all, for the trees had long since been cut down, and where the Forge stood was more of a moorland than a forest. But still it was called the Forge in the forest, and from all the houses around people went to it for fire when their own hearths were quenched.

And now Girl-go-with-the-Goats was bidden take a pot in her hands and go to the Forge in the Forest for fire for her step-mother's hearth. She started off, and no sooner had she turned the loaning when the starlings again flew down on her shoulders. And as she went along the path through the wood the two starlings sang to her; whatever she thought of, that they sang to her. She came out on the moorland and when she went a furlong she saw the black forge. Two Dwarfs with earrings in their ears were within. They took two pieces of glowing wood out of their fire and put them in her pot.

Back she went, hurrying now across the moorland because dark clouds were gathering. As she went along the path through the wood the starlings on her shoulders twittered their nesting song. The wood was dark around her and she hurried, hurried on.

And on the outskirts of the wood she saw a youth gathering kindlings and fagots for a fire. She came face to face with him and she knew him, He was the King's son.

She put down the pot and at once she began gathering kindlings and fagots with him. She brought them where he was bringing his. She laid hers down and built up a fire for him.

"This the night when, according to my father's councillors, I have to sleep on the moorland," said the King's son. He searched in his wallet. "I had flint and steel," he said, "but I have lost the flint and steel that was to make my fire."

"I have embers," said Girl-go-with-the-Goats. She took the burning embers out of the pot and put them under the wood. A fire began to crackle.

"Leave me now," said the King's son.

"Would you not give me an ember out of the fire I have kindled?" said Girl-go-with-the-Goats.

"I will give you an ember, but not two embers," said the King's son.

She took an ember from the fire. It was not a weighty ember like one of the two the Dwarfs had given her. It was a light and a waning ember. She took it and put it in the pot, thinking she would find fagots on the wayside to kindle beside it.

She went on and on but she found no fagots. And when she looked into her pot again the ember had died out. What was she to do? She walked back, and she saw the fire she had lighted blazing up. She saw the King's son standing beside the fire. She went nearer, but she could hear his voice as he said to her, "I will give you an ember, but not two embers." She was afraid to go near him and have him speak to her again.

She went past the fire and she came to the wood. It was darker and darker. But she put her feet on the path and she went on towards the moorland where the Dwarfs were at work in their forge.

At last she came out of the wood and she went across the moorland, but the forge seemed far and far away. On and on she went, with nothing to sing to her now, and no living thing nearer to her than the bats that flew here and there. And then when she knew she was lost she heard the clank of metal struck. The forge was that way. Now filled with the hope that the Dwarfs would giver her embers again and set her upon her way she went on more quickly.

The forge was far away, but at last she was near it. It seemed different from the forge where the Dwarfs worked, higher and wider. She went to the door of the forge. Then, instead of seeing two Dwarfs with earrings in their ears she saw but one person hammering out the links of a chain on the anvil and that person was a red-faced, grisly-bearded Giant.

The Giant saw her. When he looked at her out of his red eyes she dropped the pot and turned and ran. She ran and ran and ran and then she took breath and told herself that no one was chasing her. And then she heard feet scrunching up the ground behind her. She ran on until she fell down. She crept along on her hands and knees and hid behind a bush, thinking he might go scrunching by her. But she heard him snorting and sniffing to smell her out as he came near. She rose up to run again and then she felt his big hands all over her. He wrenched her arms as he picked her up; he slung her across his back and then he went on with her through the black wood.


Robinson Crusoe Written Anew for Children  by James Baldwin

I Am Shipwrecked

AT length all things were ready for the voyage, and I went on board the ship.

It was just eight years to the day since I had left my father and mother and my pleasant home in good old York.

I felt that I was doing a foolish thing; but I did not dare to say so.

The wind was fair. The sails were spread. Soon we were out to sea.

For several days the weather was fine. The ship sped swiftly on her way, and every one was happy and hopeful.

Then a great storm came up from the southeast. I had seen many a fierce storm, but never one so terrible as this.

We could do nothing but let the ship drive before the wind. Day after day we were tossed by the waves; and day after day we expected the ship to go down.

The storm grew fiercer and fiercer. The men gave themselves up as lost.

But on the twelfth day the wind went down. The waves were not so strong. We began to hope for our lives.

Early the next morning a sailor cried out, "Land! land!"

I ran out of the cabin to look. But at that very moment the ship struck upon a great bank of sand over which the fierce sea was rolling.

She stopped short. She could not move. The great waves dashed over her deck. All of us would have been washed overboard if we had not hurried back to the cabin.

"What shall we do?" cried the men.

"We can do nothing," said the captain. "Our voyage is at an end, and there is no longer any hope for our lives. We can only wait for the ship to break in pieces."

"Yes, there is one chance for our lives." cried the mate "Follow me!"

In the lull of the storm we rushed again to the deck. One of our boats was still there.

We slung her over the ship's side. We jumped aboard of her. We cut her loose, and floated away upon the wild sea.


No boat could live in such a sea as that. But we saw land ahead of us; and perhaps some of us might be cast alive upon the beach.

This was our only hope.

The raging waves carried us nearer and nearer to the shore.

We could see the breakers dashing upon the great rocks. The land looked more frightful than the sea.

Then all at once, a huge wave overset the boat. We had no time to speak or think. We were thrown out into the raging sea. We were swallowed up by the waves.


Robert Frost

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.


  WEEK 5  


On the Shores of the Great Sea  by M. B. Synge

The Empire of Rome

"Comes the Last Age, of which the Sibyl sang—

A new-born cycle of the rolling years:

Justice returns to earth."


I T was, indeed, a dangerous Rome, to which young Cæsar, now came to claim his birthright; but he soon showed his countrymen, that he was a worthy successor, of his great uncle. Stories were told of him, as an infant, that showed he was marked out for greatness, according to the early ideas of the Romans.

When he was a small baby he was laid in his cradle by his nurse. The next day he was missing and nowhere to be found. They sought for him long, and then found him on a high tower, commanding a view of the sea, lying with his face to the rising sun. When he first began to speak, a story says, that he commanded some troublesome croaking frogs, to be silent, and the frogs have never croaked there since that day.

It was not long, before the Romans made Cæsar's young heir consul, while Mark Antony, who had grasped at power, on the death of the man he had called his friend, was declared to be an enemy of the State. The murderers of Julius Cæsar had, in their turn, been murdered, amongst them the aged Cicero; but Rome was still unsettled, Rome was still dangerous.

At last Mark Antony fled to raise an army against the young Cæsar. He had schemes of conquering the East and making Alexandria the capital of the world; but instead of this, he became captivated by the beautiful Queen of Egypt, for whom Julius Cæsar had fought before. He had met her in Rome, when she had stayed with Cæsar. Now he met her again at Tarsus, and at once fell captive to her charms and her wit.

Cleopatra sailed up the river, in a gilded vessel, with purple sails and silver oars, to the music of flutes and reed pipes. She lay under an awning spangled with gold, surrounded by her beautiful slaves. Mark Antony soon loved her. He spent all his time with her, he laid aside his Roman dress and his Roman manners to adopt those of Egypt.


Cleopatra sailed up the river, in a gilded vessel, with purple sails and silver oars.

Ugly rumours about him, reached Rome, and Cæsar determined to put an end, to this growing power, beyond the seas. He mustered a fleet and army and met the fleet of Antony and Cleopatra off the southern coast of Greece. For some days a rough sea prevented any battle, but when the battle began, it was very unequal. The huge bulks of the Eastern ships were ill adapted for advance or retreat. They were no match for the skilfully managed triremes of the Romans, and while they rolled heavily on the waters, up went the sail of Cleopatra's galley, and, followed by sixty Egyptian ships and the despairing Antony, she fled across the sea to Alexandria. Thither Cæsar followed, by way of Asia and Syria. All the princes of Asia bowed down to him, and Herod, King of Judea, made friends with the conqueror. He arrived at Alexandria, to hear the news, that Antony had killed himself, and that the queen, Cleopatra, had shut herself up in a strong tower.

Once, and once only, Cæsar saw her; she tried to excite his pity, but failed. She discovered that he intended to have her taken to Rome, to take part in his triumph. The humiliation was more than she could bear. The next day she was found lying on her couch, in her royal robes, dead. Her two maids were dying on either side.

"Is this well?" asked the man, who found her.

"It is well for the daughter of kings," answered the dying maid.

And so Egypt became a Roman province.

Cæsar went back to Rome, triumphant. The death of Antony put an end to the fierce struggles, that had torn Rome, for the ten years, following the death of Julius Cæsar. It seemed, as if the great empire of Rome, might have rest for a time now, under the man, who had already done so much. He now occupied not only the highest place in the city and the highest place in the State, but he was chief of the army.

The man who rules an empire and commands the army of that empire is called an emperor; so Cæsar was now an emperor. He also took the name of Augustus, a word applied to things most noble, most dignified, most high. From this time, therefore, we must call him Cæsar Augustus.

Well and wisely did Augustus rule the Roman people. He lived simply amongst them, he dressed as a plain citizen, he joined in the life of the people. His house was unadorned, his meals were taken in haste and were not luxurious. To his Court and to his person he drew the greatest poets and writers of his age. In his reign Virgil, tall, dark, and shy, might have been seen walking about the streets of Rome, while Horace, who had fought for his country in days gone by, was poet-laureate to the emperor. Lesser singers lived too, in these days of prosperity, ever praising the man, who had restored law and order to Rome, the man who had won peace for their great empire—even Cæsar Augustus, the first Emperor of the Roman Empire.


A Child's Book of Myths and Enchantment Tales  by Margaret Evans Price


W HEN Hercules was a baby he lived in the palace of Amphitryon, king of Thebes. Although Amphitryon loved the baby dearly and provided many women to wait on him and care for him, Hercules was not his own child. He was the son of the great god Jupiter, king of the heavens.

King Amphitryon was proud of him because he was much larger and stronger than other babies, but Juno, who was the wife of Jupiter and queen of all the goddesses, hated this little son of Jupiter.

One day the goddess sent two great serpents to destroy Hercules as he lay in his cradle, but Hercules wakened as the serpents rustled over his linen coverlet, and, reaching out his strong little hands, he grasped them round the neck and held them tight until they were strangled.


Baby Hercules and the Serpents

His nurses, hearing him crow, knew his nap was over, so they came in to take him up. There lay the two serpents dead in his cradle!

This was such a wonderful thing for a baby to do, that King Amphitryon boasted of it all over his kingdom. As Hercules grew older, the king searched far and wide until he found the wisest teachers to train him in all the ways in which a prince should be trained.

In one way his nurses and teachers had a hard time with Hercules. He had so terrible a temper that when he became angry everyone ran out of his reach. King Amphitryon tried in many ways to teach Hercules to control his temper, but it was no use. One day his music teacher, whose name was Linus, reproved him for carelessness and tried to punish him. Hercules at once raised his lute and struck Linus on the head. The blow was such a terrible one that Linus died.

After that Hercules was in disgrace with King Amphitryon, and the king sent him away to live among his herdsmen and the cattle.

In the mountains where the king's herds were kept, there lived a lion which kept carrying off the fattest cows. Often, too, it had killed a herdsman. Soon after Hercules came to live in the mountains, he killed this lion, and in other ways made himself so useful to the herdsmen that they grew to love him, and held him in great respect.

Hercules continued to grow larger and stronger, and at last he returned to Thebes and fought for the king against his enemies. He won many victories for King Amphitryon, who forgave him for killing Linus.

The rest of his life Hercules spent in twelve adventures that were full of danger. Among them was his fight with a terrible lion which lived in the valley of Nemea. When he failed to kill it with his club, he strangled it with his hands, and returned carrying the body of the great beast across his shoulders.


Hercules returned carrying the body of the great beast.

Next he killed a nine-headed water serpent called the Hydra, which lived in the country of Argos, and then he captured a boar that had long overrun the mountains of Arcadia, frightening and killing the people.

From one of his adventures he returned bringing a wonderful stag, with antlers of gold and feet of brass, which dwelt in the hills about Arcadia.

Whenever Hercules heard of a monster that preyed on the people, he at once set out to overcome it. Sometimes he was sent on these dangerous adventures by Juno, who still wished that harm might befall him, but Hercules had the help of Jupiter and each time returned victorious.

He was sent to clean the stables of King Augeas, who had a herd of three thousand oxen, whose stalls had not been cleaned in thirty years.

Hercules cleverly thought of a way to clean the filthy stables without even entering them. He dug a wide ditch from a river to the stables, and let the waters rush through the stalls into a ditch on the other side and down the hill into another river.

In a few hours the stables were clean. Then Hercules walled up the opening between the first river and the ditch so that no more water could flow through. When King Augeas came to look at his stables, much to his astonishment he found them clean and dry.

Hercules was also sent to find the golden apples which were guarded by the three daughters of Hesperus and by a great dragon which coiled itself among the trees of the garden.


The three daughters of Hesperus guard the golden apples.

Hercules knew that Atlas owned the gardens of the Hesperides, so he journeyed to the mountain of Atlas and asked him if he would not like to rest from the weight of the sky, which he had held on his great shoulders ever since Perseus turned him into stone.

Hercules offered, with Jupiter's help, to change Atlas back into a giant, so that he might walk the earth and wade in cool streams and rest in green valleys. This he would do if Atlas would agree to go to his garden and gather some golden apples for him. Atlas was eager to be released from the burden of the sky and the stars, and promised to do anything Hercules wished if only he might once more be free.

So Hercules took the weight of the heavens on his own shoulders and Atlas stepped out, shaking his head wildly, shouting and leaping with gladness at being free once more. He went joyously across the land, splashing through cool streams and striding through the green grass.

Hercules held the heavens until Atlas finally returned with his big hands and deep pockets filled with golden apples.


Hercules held up the heavens.

Atlas begged that he might carry them to Hercules' land and deliver them. But Hercules was afraid that if Atlas went he might never come back, so he asked Atlas to hold the earth until he rested his shoulders. He then set the sky again on the giant's shoulders and went back to Thebes with the golden apples.

In spite of his temper Hercules was kind, and learning that Prometheus was still chained to the rock where Jupiter had bound him, he urged his father to give him permission to break the chains which held Prometheus, and set him free. Jupiter agreed, and Prometheus, after his long punishment, was unbound.

At last, after many glorious labors, Hercules was carried to Mount Olympus in Jupiter's own chariot, and became one of the Immortals.


Walter de la Mare

The Song of the Soldiers

As I sat musing by the frozen dyke,

There was a man marching with a bright steel pike,

Marching in the dayshine like a ghost came he,

And behind me was the moaning and the murmur

Of the sea.

As I sat musing, 'twas not one but ten—

Rank on rank of ghostly soldiers marching o'er the fen,

Marching in the misty air they showed in dreams to me,

And behind me was the shouting and the shattering

of the sea.

As I sat musing, 'twas a host in dark array,

With their horses and their cannon wheeling onward to the fray,

Moving like a shadow to the fate the brave must dree,

And behind me roared the drums, rang the trumpets

of the sea.


  WEEK 5  


Understood Betsy  by Dorothy Canfield Fisher

Betsy Holds the Reins

Part 2 of 3

Now for what seemed to her a long, long time she drove, drove so hard she could think of nothing else. She guided the horses around stones, she cheered them through freezing mud-puddles of melted snow, she kept them in the anxiously exact middle of the road. She was quite astonished when Uncle Henry put his pencil and paper away, took the reins from her hands, and drove into a yard, on one side of which was a little low white house and on the other a big red barn. He did not say a word, but she guessed that this was Putney Farm.

Two women in gingham dresses and white aprons came out of the house. One was old and one might be called young, just like Aunt Harriet and Aunt Frances. But they looked very different from those aunts. The dark-haired one was very tall and strong-looking, and the white-haired one was very rosy and fat. They both looked up at the little, thin, white-faced girl on the high seat, and smiled. "Well, Father, you got her, I see," said the brown-haired one. She stepped up to the wagon and held up her arms to the child. "Come on, Betsy, and get some supper," she said, as though Elizabeth Ann had lived there all her life and had just driven into town and back.

And that was the arrival of Elizabeth Ann at Putney Farm.

The brown-haired one took a long, strong step or two and swung her up on the porch. "You take her in, Mother," she said. "I'll help Father unhitch."

The fat, rosy, white-haired one took Elizabeth Ann's skinny, cold little hand in her soft, warm, fat one, and led her along to the open kitchen door. "I'm your Aunt Abigail," she said. "Your mother's aunt, you know. And that's your Cousin Ann that lifted you down, and it was your Uncle Henry that brought you out from town." She shut the door and went on, "I don't know if your Aunt Harriet ever happened to tell you about us, and so . . . "

Elizabeth Ann interrupted her hastily, the recollection of all Aunt Harriet's remarks vividly before her. "Oh, yes, oh, yes!" she said. "She always talked about you. She talked about you a lot, she . . . " The little girl stopped short and bit her lip.

If Aunt Abigail guessed from the expression on Elizabeth Ann's face what kind of talking Aunt Harriet's had been, she showed it only by a deepening of the wrinkles all around her eyes. She said, gravely: "Well, that's a good thing. You know all about us then." She turned to the stove and took out of the oven a pan of hot baked beans, very brown and crispy on top (Elizabeth Ann detested beans), and said, over her shoulder, "Take your things off, Betsy, and hang 'em on that lowest hook back of the door. That's your  hook."

The little girl fumbled forlornly with the fastenings of her cape and the buttons of her coat. At home, Aunt Frances or Grace had always taken off her wraps and put them away for her. When, very sorry for herself, she turned away from the hook, Aunt Abigail said: "Now you must be cold. Pull a chair right up here by the stove." She was stepping around quickly as she put supper on the table. The floor shook under her. She was one of the fattest people Elizabeth Ann had ever seen. After living with Aunt Frances and Aunt Harriet and Grace the little girl could scarcely believe her eyes. She stared and stared.

Aunt Abigail seemed not to notice this. Indeed, she seemed for the moment to have forgotten all about the new-comer. Elizabeth Ann sat on the wooden chair, her feet hanging (she had been taught that it was not manners to put her feet on the rungs), looking about her with miserable, homesick eyes. What an ugly, low-ceilinged room, with only a couple of horrid kerosene lamps for light; and they didn't keep any girl, evidently; and they were going to eat right in the kitchen like poor people; and nobody spoke to her or looked at her or asked her how she had "stood the trip"; and here she was, millions of miles away from Aunt Frances, without anybody to take care of her. She began to feel the tight place in her throat which, by thinking about hard, she could always turn into tears, and presently her eyes began to water.

Aunt Abigail was not looking at her at all, but she now stopped short in one of her rushes to the table, set down the butter-plate she was carrying, and said "There!" as though she had forgotten something. She stooped—it was perfectly amazing how spry she was—and pulled out from under the stove a half-grown kitten, very sleepy, yawning and stretching, and blinking its eyes. "There, Betsy!" said Aunt Abigail, putting the little yellow and white ball into the child's lap. "There is one of old Whitey's kittens that didn't get given away last summer, and she pesters the life out of me. I've got so much to do. When I heard you were coming, I thought maybe you would take care of her for me. If you want to, enough to bother to feed her and all, you can have her for your own."

Elizabeth Ann bent her thin face over the warm, furry, friendly little animal. She could not speak. She had always wanted a kitten, but Aunt Frances and Aunt Harriet and Grace had always been sure that cats brought diphtheria and tonsilitis and all sorts of dreadful diseases to delicate little girls. She was afraid to move for fear the little thing would jump down and run away, but as she bent cautiously toward it the necktie of her middy blouse fell forward and the kitten in the middle of a yawn struck swiftly at it with a soft paw. Then, still too sleepy to play, it turned its head and began to lick Elizabeth Ann's hand with a rough little tongue. Perhaps you can imagine how thrilled the little girl was at this! She held her hand perfectly still until the kitten stopped and began suddenly washing its own face, and then she put her hands under it and very awkwardly lifted it up, burying her face in the soft fur. The kitten yawned again, and from the pink-lined mouth came a fresh, milky breath. "Oh!" said Elizabeth Ann under her breath. "Oh, you darling!"  The kitten looked at her with bored, speculative eyes.

Elizabeth Ann looked up now at Aunt Abigail and said, "What is its name, please?" But the old woman was busy turning over a griddle full of pancakes and did not hear. On the train Elizabeth Ann had resolved not to call these hateful relatives by the same name she had for dear Aunt Frances, but she now forgot that resolution and said, again, "Oh, Aunt Abigail, what is its name?"

Aunt Abigail faced her blankly. "Name?" she asked. "Whose . . . oh, the kitten's? Goodness, child, I stopped racking my brain for kitten names sixty years ago. Name it yourself. It's yours."

Elizabeth Ann had already named it in her own mind, the name she had always thought she would  call a kitten by, if she ever had one. It was Eleanor, the prettiest name she knew.

Aunt Abigail pushed a pitcher toward her. "There's the cat's saucer under the sink. Don't you want to give it some milk?"

Elizabeth Ann got down from her chair, poured some milk into the saucer, and called: "Here, Eleanor! Here, Eleanor!"

Aunt Abigail looked at her sharply out of the corner of her eye and her lips twitched, but a moment later her face was immovably grave as she carried the last plate of pancakes to the table.

Elizabeth Ann sat on her heels for a long time, watching the kitten lap the milk, and she was surprised, when she stood up, to see that Cousin Ann and Uncle Henry had come in, very red-cheeked from the cold air.

"Well, folks," said Aunt Abigail, "don't you think we've done some lively stepping around, Betsy and I, to get supper all on the table for you?"

Elizabeth Ann stared. What did Aunt Abigail mean? She hadn't done a thing about getting supper! But nobody made any comment, and they all took their seats and began to eat. Elizabeth Ann was astonishingly hungry, and she thought she could never get enough of the creamed potatoes, cold ham, hot cocoa, and pancakes. She was very much relieved that her refusal of beans caused no comment. Aunt Frances had always tried very hard to make her eat beans because they have so much protein in them, and growing children need protein. Elizabeth Ann had heard this said so many times she could have repeated it backward, but it had never made her hate beans any the less. However, nobody here seemed to know this, and Elizabeth Ann kept her knowledge to herself. They had also evidently never heard how delicate her digestion was, for she never saw anything like the number of pancakes they let her eat. All she wanted!  She had never heard of such a thing!


The Adventures of Prickly Porky  by Thornton Burgess

Peter Rabbit Tells His Story

W HEN Peter Rabbit could get his breath after his long hard run from the Green Forest to the dear Old Briar-patch, he had a wonderful story to tell. It was all about a stranger in the Green Forest, and to have heard Peter tell about it, you would have thought, as Mrs. Peter did, that it was a very terrible stranger, for it had no legs, and it had no head, and it had no tail. At least, that is what Peter said.

"You see, it was this way," declared Peter. "I had stopped longer than I meant to in the Green Forest, for you know, my dear, I always try to be home by the time jolly, round, red Mr. Sun gets out of bed and Old Mother West Wind gets down on the Green Meadows." Mrs. Peter nodded. "But somehow time slipped away faster than I thought for, or else Mr. Sun got up earlier than usual," continued Peter. Then he stopped. That last idea was a new one, and it struck Peter as a good one. "I do believe that that is just what happened—Mr. Sun must have made a mistake and crawled out of bed earlier than usual," he cried.

Mrs. Peter looked as if she very much doubted it, but she didn't say anything, and so Peter went on with his story.

"I had just realized how light it was and had started for home, hurrying with all my might, when I heard a little noise at the top of the hill where Prickly Porky the Porcupine lives. Of course I thought it was Prickly himself starting out for his breakfast, and I looked up with my mouth open to say hello. But I didn't say hello. No, Sir, I didn't say a word. I was too scared. There, just starting down the hill straight towards me, was the most dreadful creature that ever has been seen in the Green Forest! It didn't have any legs, and it didn't have any head, and it didn't have any tail, and it was coming straight after me so fast that I had all I could do to get out of the way!" Peter's eyes grew very round and wide as he said this. "I took one good look, and then I jumped. My gracious, how I did jump!" he continued. "Then I started for home just as fast as ever I could make my legs go, and here I am, and mighty glad to be here!"

Mrs. Peter had listened with her mouth wide open. When Peter finished, she closed it with a snap and hopped over and felt of his head.

"Are you sick, Peter?" she asked anxiously.

Peter stared at her. "Sick! Me sick! Not a bit of it!" he exclaimed. "Never felt better in my life, save that I am a little tired from my long run. What a silly question! Do I look sick?"

"No-o," replied little Mrs. Peter slowly. "No-o, you don't look sick, but you talk as if there were something the matter with your head. I think you must be just a little light-headed, Peter, or else you have taken a nap somewhere and had a bad dream. Did I understand you to say that this dreadful creature has no legs, and yet that it chased you?"

"That's what I said!" snapped Peter a wee bit crossly, for he saw that Mrs. Peter didn't believe a word of his story.

"Will you please tell me how any creature in the Green Forest or out of it, for that matter, can possibly chase any one unless it has legs or wings, and you didn't say anything about its having wings," demanded Mrs. Peter.

Peter scratched his head in great perplexity. Suddenly he had a happy thought. "Mr. Blacksnake runs fast enough, but he doesn't have legs, does he?" he asked in triumph.

Little Mrs. Peter looked a bit discomfited. "No-o," she admitted slowly, "he doesn't have legs; but I never could understand how he runs without them."

"Well, then," snapped Peter, "if he can run without legs, why can't other creatures? Besides, this one didn't run exactly; it rolled. Now I've told you all I'm going to. I need a long nap, after all I've been through, so don't let any one disturb me."

"I won't," replied Mrs. Peter meekly. "But, Peter, if I were you, I wouldn't tell that story to any one else."


Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Snowdrop

Many, many welcomes,

February, fair maid,

Ever as of old time,

Solitary firstling,

Coming in the cold time,

Prophet of the gay time,

Prophet of the May time,

Prophet of the roses,

Many, many welcomes,

February, fair maid.


  WEEK 5  


Hurlbut's Story of the Bible  by Jesse Lyman Hurlbut

The Old Man Who Fought against the Giants

Joshua xiv: 1, to xix: 51.

dropcap image HE great war for the conquest of Canaan was now ended, though in the land some cities were still held by the Canaanite people. Yet the Israelites were now the rulers over most of the country, and Joshua prepared to divide the land among the tribes of Israel.

One day the rulers of the tribe of Judah came to Joshua's tent at Gilgal, and with them came an old man, Caleb, whom you remember as one of the twelve spies sent by Moses from Kadesh-barnea to go through the land of Canaan. (See Story 30.) This had been many years before, and Caleb was now, like Joshua, an old man, past eighty years of age. He said to Joshua:

"You remember what the Lord said to Moses, the man of God, when we were in the desert at Kadesh-barnea, and you and I with the other spies brought back our report. I spoke to Moses the word that was in my heart, and I followed the Lord wholly, when the other spies spoke out of their own fear, and made the people afraid. On that day, you remember that Moses said to me, 'The land where your feet have trodden and over which you have walked shall be yours, because you trusted in the Lord.'

"That was forty-five years ago," Caleb went on to say, "and God has kept me alive all those years. To-day, at eighty-five years of age, I am as strong as I was in that day. And now I ask that the promise made by Moses be kept, and that I have my choice of the places in the land."

"Well," said Joshua, "you can take your choice in the land. What part of it will you choose?"

And Caleb answered:

"The place that I will choose is the very mountain on which we saw the city with the high walls, where the giants were living then, and where other giants, their sons, are living now, the city of Hebron. I know that the walls are high, and the giants live there. But the Lord will help to take the cities, and to drive out the people who live in them. Let me have the city of Hebron."

This was very bold in so old a man as Caleb, to choose the city which was not yet taken from the enemies, and one of the hardest cities to take, when he might have chosen some rich place already won. But Caleb at eighty-five showed the same spirit of courage, and willingness to war, and faith in God, that he had shown in his prime at forty years of age. Then Joshua said to Caleb, "You shall have the city of Hebron, with all its giants, if you will gather together your men, and take it." And the old soldier brought together his men, and led them against the strong city of Hebron, where was the tomb of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. (See Stories 10, 11, and 19.) By the help of the Lord, Caleb was able to drive out the giants, tall and mighty as they were. They fled from Caleb's men and went down to the shore on the west of the land, and lived among the people of that region, who were called the Philistines; while Caleb, and his children, and his descendants long after him, held the city of Hebron in the south of the land.

After this, by the command of the Lord, Joshua divided the land among the tribes. Two tribes and half of another tribe had already received their land on the east of Jordan; so there were nine tribes and a half tribe to receive their shares. Judah, one of the largest, had the mountain country west of the Dead Sea, from Hebron to Jerusalem; Simeon was on the south toward the desert; Benjamin was north of Judah on the east, toward the Jordan, and Dan north of Judah on the west, toward the Great Sea.

In the middle of the country, around the city of Shechem, and the two mountains, Ebal and Gerizim, where Joshua had read the law to the people (see Story 38), was the land of the tribe of Ephraim. This was one of the best parts of all the country, for the soil was rich and there were many springs and streams of water. And here, near Mount Ebal, they buried the body of their tribe-father Joseph, which they had kept in its coffin of stone, unburied, ever since they left Egypt, more than forty years before. As Joshua himself belonged to the tribe of Ephraim, his home was also in this land.

North of Ephraim, and reaching from the river Jordan to the Great Sea, was the land of the other half of the tribe of Manasseh. Both tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh had sprung from Joseph. So Joseph's descendants had two tribes, as had been promised by Jacob when he was about to die. (See Story 19.)

The northern part of the land was divided among four tribes. Issacher was in the south, Asher on the west beside the Great Sea, Zebulun was in the middle among the mountains, and Naphtali was in the north, and by the lake afterward called the Sea of Galilee. At that time this lake was called the Sea of Kinnoreth, because the word "kinnor" means "a harp;" and as they thought that this lake was shaped somewhat like a harp, they named it "the Harp-shaped Sea."

But although all the land had been divided, it had not all been completely conquered. Nearly all the Canaanite people were there, still living upon the land, though in the mountain region they were under the rule of the Israelites. But on the plain beside the Great Sea, on the west of the land were the Philistines, a very strong people whom the Israelites had not yet met in war, though the time was coming when they would meet them, and suffer from them.

And even among the mountains were many cities where the Canaanite people still lived, and in some of these cities they were strong. Years afterward, when Joshua the great warrior was no longer living, many of these people rose up to trouble the Israelites. The time came when the tribes of Israel wished often that their fathers had driven out or entirely destroyed the Canaanites, before they ceased the war and divided the land.

But when Joshua divided the land, and sent the tribes to their new homes, peace seemed to reign over all the country. Up to this time we have spoken of all this land as the land of Canaan, but now and henceforth it was to be called "The Land of Israel," or "The Land of the Twelve Tribes," for it was now their home.


The Mosque of Omar, or the Dome of the Rock.


The Sandman: His Ship Stories  by Willliam J. Hopkins

The Wedding Story

O NCE upon a time there was a wide river that ran into the ocean, and beside it was a little city. And in that city was a wharf where great ships came from far countries. And a narrow road led down a very steep hill to that wharf, and anybody that wanted to go to the wharf had to go down the steep hill on the narrow road, for there wasn't any other way. And because ships had come there for a great many years, and all the sailors and all the captains and all the men who had business with the ships had to go on that narrow road, the flagstones that made the sidewalks were much worn. That was a great many years ago.

The river and the ocean are there yet, as they always have been and always will be; and the city is there, but it is a different kind of a city from what it used to be. And the wharf is slowly falling down, for it is not used now; and the narrow road down the steep hill is all grown up with weeds and grass.

A long time ago, when the ships still came to that wharf, Captain Jonathan and Captain Jacob had an office not far from the wharf; for they owned many ships, and they liked to be near the place where the ships were. For, in those days, ships that sailed to far countries were not heard from until they got back again unless they happened to meet some other ship going the other way. And there was a great deal for the captains to tell Captain Jonathan and Captain Jacob when they got back, and it was convenient for them to be very near. Afterwards Captain Jonathan and Captain Jacob had their ships come to Boston, and took an office there. And that was the beginning of the reason why the wharf is falling down now.

One day, after the Industry  had been built and rigged and fitted with sails, she lay at that wharf and men were getting things on board of her to take to a far country. But they didn't hurry about it, for Captain Jonathan and Captain Jacob hadn't got a captain for her. And Captain Jonathan and Captain Jacob were in their office talking about it.

"I'll tell you, Jacob," said Captain Jonathan at last. "You go yourself. You take her out and back. Then you can see for yourself what they are doing there. And you might take Lois, too. It will be a good wedding journey for you."

For Lois was engaged to marry Captain Jacob, but they hadn't set the wedding day yet. And Captain Jacob thought that would be a good way to hurry it up, for the Industry  would have to sail in less than a month. So he agreed.

"All right," said Captain Jacob. "I'll go."

And, after that day, Lois was very busy getting ready for her wedding; and Captain Jacob was very busy, too, but not in getting ready for his wedding. It didn't take him long to get ready for that. He was busy in looking over the Industry  and in fitting up a cabin for Lois. The cabin that she would have was very small, as every cabin has to be, on a small vessel; but he fixed it all up with everything that he thought Lois would like.

And he looked over the things that were in their office; great chests filled with beautiful shawls and fine cloth made of the hair of goats and cloth made of the hair of camels; and beautiful, fine rugs that were made in Persia, meant for men to kneel on when they said their prayers; and larger rugs that were not so fine but were just as beautiful in their way; and pretty little tables of lacquer and larger tables of teak-wood; and many another beautiful thing. For Lois was used to having those beautiful things from that far country in her father's house.

But Captain Jacob could not take many of these things, because the cabin was so small. Besides, he thought that if Lois could manage to get along with only a few things on the way out, she could get what she wanted when she got to that far country and could bring the things back with her. She could get enough to furnish a house, if she wanted it. And when Captain Jacob thought that, he laughed aloud, although he was all by himself in the office, pulling out the chests and looking at the shawls. And he chuckled all the rest of the day.

So he took a table of teak-wood, just large enough for the cabin, and a lacquer tray, large enough for Lois's tea-things; and the tea-things, made of the most beautiful china, and a prayer-rug, made of silk. He didn't take anything else of all the beautiful things. And he put those things in the cabin that was meant for Lois, and when it was all ready, he asked Lois to come down and look at the cabin that he had got ready for her. So Lois came.


She was all ready to be surprised when she saw her cabin, for she thought that probably Captain Jacob had filled it full of beautiful things. And when she saw it, the things that were in it were as beautiful as they could be, but there were very few of them, and Lois was really surprised, but she tried not to show how disappointed she was. She said to Captain Jacob how pretty it was, and she thanked him for making it so. But Captain Jacob knew, by the sound of her voice, that she was very much disappointed. He had expected that she would be disappointed, and he smiled as she thanked him.

And when Lois got home, Captain Jonathan asked her how she liked her quarters on the Industry. Then she couldn't help crying, and she told him that Jacob seemed so skimpy with his old things that she didn't know whether to marry him or not.

And Captain Jonathan laughed in a kind way. "Remember, Lois," he said, "you are going to India, where those very things came from. You can bring home a ship-load of them if you want to. In fact, Jacob and I talked it over, and we concluded that the fewer things you took out, the more room you would have for others to bring back. So dry your eyes and when you see Jacob again, ask his pardon."

So Lois did that, but Captain Jacob didn't say anything.

Then, at last, the wedding day came, and it was the day set for the sailing of the Industry  on her first voyage to that far country. And all the things had been put in the ship; the things that they were to sell in the far country where they were going, and the things to eat, and the water that they would drink. And, because Lois was going, they carried more things than they generally did. There were two cows, with hay for them to eat, so that they could have fresh milk and cream and butter. And there were half a dozen sheep, so that they could have fresh mutton now and then. And there were a lot of chickens, so that they could have fresh eggs and some roast chicken or fried chicken now and then. And if the cook of the Industry  didn't know how to cook any of those things fancy, Lois could show him. And if you don't believe that Lois knew how to do those things, you have only to look in her receipt book, with the most wonderful receipts written in her own old-fashioned handwriting, and then you will know that she did know how.

And the water to drink was in big hogsheads down near the bottom of the ship, in the hold, but it was where the sailors could get it out, one hogshead at a time, without disturbing the other things that were there. And they brought Lois's trunk and put it in her cabin. It was a wooden trunk, of a queer shape, and it was covered with deerskin, with the hair left on. You could see the spots that had been on the deer, for it had been the skin of a fallow deer. It was brand-new, for Captain Jonathan had had it brought from London, some time before this, for Lois to have when she got married. Lois didn't have any more than one trunk. And the sailors were all on the ship, and everything was ready for the Industry  to start.

Then a great lumbering coach came driving down that narrow road on to the wharf; and, behind that coach, came others, and the coachmen had to drive very carefully, the road was so steep. And out of the first coach jumped Captain Jacob, and he was all dressed up in clothes that you would think very queer if you were to see them now. And he turned and helped Lois down, and when the sailors saw Lois, they cheered as loudly as they could; and sailors can make a lot of noise when they really put their minds to it.


A great lumbering coach came driving down that narrow road.

And, out of the second coach, came Captain Jonathan, but he did not jump out as Captain Jacob had done, for he didn't feel joyful. Lois was his only daughter, and her mother was dead; and he knew that she was going away and that it would be a long time before he saw her again—perhaps a whole year. He didn't think there was any danger that the Industry  would be wrecked, for Captain Jacob was a good sailor and a skilful captain; but he thought that there was a chance for a great deal to happen in a year, and perhaps Lois might be sick. So Captain Jonathan was rather mournful, as fathers and mothers are apt to be at weddings; but he tried to look happy and to smile. And there came out of the second coach, besides Captain Jonathan, some of Lois's aunts and cousins.

And, when Captain Jonathan had got out of his coach, Lois went to him and put her arms around his neck, and she cried a little, and she bade him good-bye. And she said good-bye to her aunts and her cousins, and then she put her arms around her father's neck again. But presently she had got through saying good-bye to him, and Captain Jacob came up.

Captain Jonathan shook Captain Jacob's hand for a long time. "Take care of her, Jacob," he said.

And Captain Jacob tried to look solemn, but he didn't feel solemn. "I will," he said.

And Captain Jacob and Lois went up the sloping board with little ups on it, and went on board the ship. And the sailors untied the great ropes that had held the ship to the wharf, and they hoisted the sails, and the Industry  went sailing off down the river and into the great ocean. And Lois stood beside the rail, waving her handkerchief, until she couldn't see Captain Jonathan any more. Then she went into her cabin.

And that's all.



Falling Snow

See the pretty snowflakes

Falling from the sky;

On the wall and housetops

Soft and thick they lie.

On the window-ledges,

On the branches bare;

Now how fast they gather,

Filling all the air.

Look into the garden,

Where the grass was green;

Covered by the snowflakes,

Not a blade is seen.

Now the bare black bushes

All look soft and white,

Every twig is laden,—

What a pretty sight!