Shared Reading - Collier County Public Schools

Shared Reading Table of Contents Shared Reading 51 Shared Reading Five Day Lesson Plans 53 Adapted Shared Reading For Grades 3-5 55 Explicit Teaching of a Target During Shared Reading 58 Shared Reading Targets 59 Shared Reading Target Bookmarks 64 Copyright Information 66 Poem Titles for Grades 3-5 69 Poems in the Public Domain for Grade 3 76 Poems in the Public Domain for Grade 4 86 Poems in the Public Domain for Grade 5 94 SHARED READING Definition: Shared reading is a daily, whole class instructional process. The teacher engages students by inviting predictions, responses and reflections. Shared reading text should be previously unseen, visible to all and above most students’ instructional levels. The teacher demonstrates fluent reading and provides explicit instruction in strategies and skills. Vocabulary, fluency, comprehension, phonics skills, and genre characteristics are taught. Share Reading Guidelines:  Limit the time to approximately 15 minutes daily.  Select a narrative, rhythmical text that will be inviting and interesting to students for 5 days.  Choose a text that supports explicit instruction in phonemic awareness, phonics, vocabulary development, mechanics, print conventions and comprehension.  Explicitly teach one target per lesson. The following page numbers reference the Literacy Curriculum Teacher Manual K-5 as they correlate to the shared reading instructional component. Concepts About Print Pages: D- 4-11 D-19 D-24 D-25 D-29 D-34 F-1 Print Conventions Pages: D-18 E-4  Phonemic Awareness Pages: D-8/9 D-11 D-13 D-16 Language Mechanics Pages: D-10/11 D- 22-25 D- 32-35 E-4 Phonics Pages: D-8-12 D-16 D-19 D- 22-25 D- 32-35 Enjoyment/ Prediction Pages: D-7 D-21 D-31 F-1 Comprehension Pages: D-4 through D-45 Vocabulary Pages: D-10/11 D- 22-24 D- 32-34 Responds To Text Pages: D-5 D-12 F-2 F-6 ESOL Pages LA2 LA7 LA10 Indicated for that grades 3-5 may refer to the adapted shared reading format listed on the following pages. SELECTING TEXT FOR SHARED READING Primary When selecting text for shared reading, consider the following questions:  Does the book have impact, excitement and engage the reader?  Does the book have a predictable storyline and provide for the broadening of insights?  Does the story development lead the students to participate in problem solving?  Does the book have interesting pictures that develop and support the story line?  Is the print size large enough to read in a group?  Is the sentence structure appropriate for fluent reading?  Does the story have rhyme, rhythm and/or repetition?  Does the story hold students’ interest over repeated readings?  Is the text one that most students would not be able to read on their own?  Is the storyline easily remembered and does it provide opportunities for movement, drama, innovation, and other varieties of language exploration? Intermediate When selecting text for shared reading, consider the following questions:  Does the poem have impact, excitement and engage the reader?  Does the poem have a predictable storyline and provide for the broadening of insights?  Does the poem development lead the students to participate in problem solving?  Is the print size large enough to read in a group?  Is the sentence structure appropriate for fluent reading?  Does the poem hold students’ interest over repeated readings?  Is the poem one that most students would not be able to read on their own? Shared Reading Grade ____ Lesson Plan Text:__________________________________________________________ (Unseen Enlarged Rhythmical Able to be Retold) Day 1: Enjoyment and Prediction 1. Building background (schema): __________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________ (accept only a few responses). 2. Introduce text. 3. Accept only a few predictions. 4. Read modeling fluency. Day 2: Vocabulary and Language Usage 1. Read the text modeling fluency. 2. Define unfamiliar vocabulary: ____________________ _____________________ 3. Language target:______________________________________________________________________ 4. Target definition: _____________________________________________________________________ Day 3: Print Conventions / Language Mechanics 1. Read the text modeling fluency. 2. Convention or mechanics target:_____________________________________________________________________ 3. Target definition: _____________________________________________________________________________ Day 4: Reading Strategies 1. Read the text modeling fluency. 2. Specific reading target (phonics, comprehension or visual language target):____________________________ 3. Target definition: _____________________________________________________________________ Day 5: Response To Text 1. Read the text modeling fluency. 2. Processing response: ________________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Adapted from National Literacy Coalition Shared Reading Day Five Responses/Processing Visual Responses/Illustrations  Comic Strip  Advertisement  “Wanted” Poster  Caricature  Costume Design  Drawing  Painting Visual Responses/Graphic Organizers  Comparison Chart/Venn Diagrams  Family Tree  Story Structure Chart  Character Web  Time Line  Map  Blueprint  Outline  Flow Chart Oral Responses  Storytelling  Role Play  Oral Interpretation  Monologue  Discussion  Newscast Written Responses  Letter  Diary Entry  News Article  New Ending  Parallel Structure Writing  Song  Essay  Dialogue Script  Review  Critique  Editorial Adapted Shared Reading For Grades 3-5 One of the major goals of shared reading is to help students develop a range of effective strategies for reading and understanding text (Read It Again!, Parkes, 2000). For older students, shared reading provides support to make difficult texts accessible to all students in a class. The emphasis may not be on making anticipations at the word level but rather on supporting students as they interpret and analyze more challenging texts. In order to accommodate the depth of study for more sophisticated targets, teachers in grades 3-5 may find it necessary to use picture books, short stories, and the core program’s anthology. In addition, the purpose for the adapted shared reading format gives students the opportunity to hear information and story from a variety of genres and styles. With the teacher doing the decoding, students are able to focus on making meaning from text and connecting the text to their own lives(On The Same Page, Allen 2002). Therefore, depending on the materials used and the depth at which a target needs to be taught, days spent using a text may need to be adjusted from the 5 day lesson plan format. In the adapted shared reading format, students all have a copy of the same text or the text is projected and visible to all students. The teacher engages students by inviting predictions, response and reflections. The teacher demonstrates fluent reading and provides explicit instruction in strategies and skills. The teacher demonstrates, or shows kids how, including explaining the strategy or skill, thinking aloud about the mental processes used to construct meaning, and demonstrating when and why it is most effective. Students are invited to practice a strategy or skill during whole-class discussions and asked to apply it in collaboration with peers in pairs or small groups. However, the interaction should not detract from the fluent reading of the text but rather should complement and enrich the reading. The shared reading 5 day format and the adapted format hold significant instructional value in a 3rd –5th grade classroom. Therefore, a teacher in grades 3-5 should allow for and balance instructional time for both shared reading formats. Selecting Text for Adapted Shared Reading When selecting text for shared reading, consider the following questions:  Does the text have impact, excitement and engage the reader?  Does the have complex concepts, language patterns and story structures?  Does the text evoke emotional responses?  Is the sentence structure appropriate for fluent reading?  Does the text employ rich language to create visual images?  Does the text expand students’ world knowledge Adapted from Janet Allen: On The Same Page “Eyes past print with voice support” Janet Allen Adapted Shared Reading Lesson Plan Schema Question: Ask a question that will assist the students in making connection to the text. Introduction: Explicitly name and define the genre for the text. Establish Purpose: Teacher may establish purpose by using:  prediction  brainstorm  concept web  anticipation guide  words in context  KWL  discussion  other CRISS strategies Teacher Reads the Text Aloud While Thinking Aloud or Commenting Page Sentence/Paragraph Think Aloud/Discussion Stop Points 4 P-2 Text To Text Connection-When I was lost at the mall. Explicit Teaching of a Target  name the target  define the target  explain the rationale/reason for the target  explain when to use the target  model the target using this text  practice the target (in context) with the group  ask students to restate the target Feedback and/or Sharing Response To Text Adapted Shared Reading Lesson Plan Text:_____________________________________________________________________________________ Author:__________________________________________________________________________________ Schema Question: _________________________________________________________________________ Introduction: Genre:________________________ Definition: ____________________________________ __________________________________________________________________________________________ Establish Purpose: _________________________________________________________________________ Teacher Reads the Text Aloud While Thinking Aloud or Commenting Page Sentence/Paragraph Think Aloud/Discussion Stop Points Explicit Teaching of a Target  name the target_______________________________________________________________________  define the target______________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________________________  explain the rationale/reason for the target__________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________________________  explain when to use the target___________________________________________________________  model the target using this text: pg ______________________________________________________  practice the target (in context) with the group pg. __________, pg. __________, pg. ___________  ask students to restate the target Feedback and/or Sharing Response To Text: _________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Explicit Teaching of a Target During Shared Reading 1. Name the target. 2. Define the target. 3. Explain the rationale/reason for target. 4. Explain when to use the target. 5. Model the target. 6. Practice the target (in context) with the group. 7. Ask students to restate the target. Shared Reading Day Two Targets Shaded area indicates grade taught Target K 1 Sight words Letter/Sound ID Concepts About Print Language Usage Targets Action words Rhyming words Colorful comparisons Tense Nouns Prefixes Suffixes Metaphor Simile Alliteration Personification Onomatopoeia Hyperbole Diction Slang Dialogue Flashback Tone Mood Negative definition Dialect Pun Jargon Idiom Oxymoron Style Sarcasm Foreshadowing Analogies Extended metaphor Understatement Assonance Consonance Symbolism 2 3 4 5 Shared Reading Day Three Targets Shaded area indicates grade taught Target K Phonemic awareness Conventions Targets Period Comma Hyphen Semicolon Question mark Apostrophe Dash Parentheses Quotation marks Colon Exclamation mark Ellipse Italics Brackets Asterisk Mechanics Targets Capitalization Plurals Abbreviations Subject/verb agreement Pronoun/antecedent agreement Verb forms Paragraphing Noun case Active/passive voice Enjambment Stanza Verse 1 2 3 4 5 Shared Reading Day Four Targets Shaded area indicates grade taught Target K Phonics / Decoding Targets Uses pictures to “cue” reading Combines picture cues with graphophonic (initial consonant) cues Uses semantic cues (meaning from prior knowledge) Uses syntactic cues (word order from prior knowledge) Uses semantic cues (meaning from context) Combines graphophonic cues (initial consonants with word families) Combines graphophonic cues (consonant-vowel-consonant) Combines graphophonic cues (c-v-c-v) Combines graphophonic cues (c-v-v-c) Uses syntactic cues (word form [plural/singular] from prior knowledge) Uses syntactic cues (word tense [present/past] from prior knowledge) Combines graphophonic cues (familiar parts of a word) Uses graphophonic cues (vowel combinations) Uses graphophonic cues (“r” controlled vowels) Goes back to the beginning of the sentence and reads again when an unknown word is encountered Jumps over an unknown word, reads to the end, comes back, and tries again for decoding 1 2 3 4 5 Shared Reading Day Four Targets Continued Shaded area indicates grade taught Target K Comprehension Targets Identifies beginning and end of story Retells a shared story in sequence Identifies character(s) Describes character(s) Analyzes the impact of character(s) Identifies setting Describes setting Analyzes the impact of setting Identifies problem and solution Identifies conflict Describes events Describes climax Identifies plot Identifies theme Describes historical context Analyzes for historical context Describes social context Describes political context Identifies bias Identifies prejudices 1 2 3 4 5 Shared Reading Day Four Targets Continued Shaded area indicates grade taught Target K Visual Language Targets Font Illustration Layout White space Text position Justification Point size Borders Shading Case Subscript Superscript Paragraphing Vertical orientation Horizontal orientation Landscape Portrait 1 2 3 4 5 Poems for Shared Reading Grades 3-5 The following section is a listing and collection of poems that are appropriate for use during shared reading in grades three through five. The targets identified in the early pages of the section can be taught using these resources. The copies of the poems enclosed are a part of public domain and can be used without concern for copyright violation. The ones identified as “need rights” are poems that are copyright protected and need permission from the publisher to be used. District personnel are working to seek permission to use these poems during shared reading, as well. While this process is in progress, it would be permissible for teachers to make ONE copy of the “need rights” poems this year. Please refer to the enclosed pages from Dr. Gary H. Becker’s book, Copyright: A Guide to Information and Resources, Second Edition. This book is available in the Media Centers at each school. Poems For Third Grade Update: July 12, 2001 Grade Poem 3 A Beetle Tale 3 A Remarkable Adventure 3 STATUS Author public domain E. Keary A Visit From Mr. Fox public domain Unknown 3 An Alley Cat with One Life Left need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 An Irritating Creature need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 Artichokes need rights Pike Johnson Jr. 3 Benjamin Jones Goes Swimming 3 Billy Batter 3 Bunny Rabbit's Predicament 3 Life Info Jack Prelutsky Catherine need rights Karla Kuskin 3 Crazy Dream need rights Shel Silverstein?? 3 Eat it All Elaine need rights 3 Father Loses Weight 3 Publisher 1857-88 *** 1889-1969 A Children's Treasury Zondervan of Verse Aileen Fisher need rights Book Title 1932- New Treasury of Children's Poetry Doubleday & Co. Kaye Starbird 1916- Piping Down the Valleys Wild… Delacorte Press need rights X.J. Kennedy 1929 First Thanksgiving of All need rights Nancy Byrd Turner 1880-? 3 Fun with Fishing need rights Eunice Tietjens 1844-1944 3 Good King Wencelas tale 3 Goody O' Grumpity need rights Carol Ryrie Brink 1895-1991 3 I Found a Four Leaf Clover need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 I Made Something Strange with my need rights Chemistry Set Jack Prelutsky 3 I Sailed on Half a Ship need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 In the Orchard need rights James Stephens 1880-1950 3 January Jumps About need rights George Barker 1913- 3 Jim Who Ran Away from His Nurse need rights Hilaire Belloc 1870-1953 3 Johnny and his Slingshot Riley Watson 3 King Fashion public domain E. Keary 1857-88 3 Lincoln need rights Nancy Byrd Turner 1880-? 3 Little Joe Tunney Rebecca McCann 3 Miss Veronica Blair Linda J. Knaus 3 Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Murphy's Kids need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 My Gerbil Seemed Bedraggled need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 My Mother Made a Meatloaf need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 Pachycephalosaurus need rights Richard Armour Favorite Poems Old & New Favorite Poems Old & New Favorite Poems Old & New Doubleday & Co. Doubleday & Co. Doubleday & Co. Oxford Book of Story Oxford University Poems Press Favorite Poems Old & New Doubleday & Co. A Dozen Dinosaurs McGraw Hill, Inc. Poems for Third Grade Continued Grade Poem STATUS Author Life Info 3 Pet Shopping need rights Kenn Nesbitt 3 Sneaky Sue need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 Snowman's Resolution 3 Thanksgiving Day public domain 3 The Bugs Are Out need rights 3 The Carpenter Rages need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 The Duck and the Kangaroo public domain Edward Lear 1812-1888 3 The Duel public domain Eugene Field 1850-1895 3 The Gingerbread Man need rights Rowena Bennett 1896- 3 The Lion and the Echo need rights Brian Patten 3 The Lobster Quadrille public domain Lewis Carroll 1832-1898 3 The Lost Doll public domain Charles Kingsley 1819-1875 3 The Mouse and the Cake public domain Eliza Cook (1849) 3 The Nap Taker need rights Shel Silverstein?? 3 The Old Wife and the Ghost need rights James Reeves 3 The Sad Story of a Little Boy That Cried Anonymous 3 The Swapping Song as told to Richard Chase 3 The Turkey Shot Out of the Oven 3 The Two Rats Unknown 3 The Ups and Downs of the Elevator Car Caroline D. Emerson 3 There Was An Old Lady 3 There's a New Cook in the Cafeteria need rights 3 Tricking need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 Turn Off the TV! need rights Bruce Lansky 3 Twenty Froggies need rights George Cooper 3 When Daddy Sat on the Tomatoes need rights Jack Prelutsky 3 Who Pulled the Plug in my Ant Farm? need rights 3 Wyken, Blynken, and Nod public domain Book Title Publisher Aileen Fisher need rights need rights Lydia Maria Child 1802-1880 Oxford Treasury of Children's Poems Jack Prelutsky Dennis Lee Eugene Field Sing A Song of Scholastic Popcorn Oxford Book of Story Oxford University Poems Press 1939- 1838-1927 Oxford University Press Poems For Fourth Grade Grade Poem STATUS Author Life Info 4 A Feller I Know need rights Mary Austin 1868-1934 4 A Goat Wandered into the Junkyard need rights Jack Prelutsky 4 About Jimmy James need rights 4 An Extraterrestrial Alien need rights 4 Blubbering at the Movies 4 Bulgy Bunne need rights Jack Prelutsky 4 Casey Jones need rights Unknown 4 Dainty Dottie Dee need rights Jack Prelutsky 4 Dauntless Dimble need rights 4 Dorlan’s Home-Walk need rights Arthur Guiterman 1871-1943 4 Eldorado public domain Edgar Allan Poe 1809-1849 4 Floradora Doe need rights 4 Garbage Delight need rights Dennis Lee 1939- 4 George need rights Hilaire Belloc 4 Golden Cobwebs 4 Hunter Trials need rights John Betjeman 4 Jack and the Beanstalk need rights Roald Dahl 4 Jack Frost 4 Jesse James 4 Leetla Giorgio Washeenton need rights 4 Little Orphant Annie public domain 4 Matilda need rights Hilaire Belloc 1870-1953 4 Miller’s End need rights Charles Causley 1917- 4 Mungle and the Munn 4 My Brother Bert need rights Ted Hughes 1930- 4 On Ageing need rights Maya Angelou 1928- 4 On the Death of a Mad Dog public domain Oliver Goldsmith 1730-1774 4 One, Two, Three public domain Henry Cuyler Bunner 1855-1896 4 Oops! need rights Bruce Lansky 4 Somebody’s Mother need rights Mary Dow Brine 4 The Beautiful, Fabulous Phyllis McFee 4 The Children’s Hour Book Title Publisher Favorite Poems Old Doubleday & Co. & New Jack Prelutsky Greta B. Lipson American Folk Poetry Little, Brown & Co. 1870-1953 Fireside Book of Humorous Poetry Simon Shuster 1906-1984 Everyman’s Book of J.M. Dent & sons Evergreen Verse Thomas Augustine 1871-1948 Daly James Whitcomb 1849-1916 Riley 1816-1913 Riley Watson public domain Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1809-1882 Favorite Poems Old Doubleday & Co. & New Everyman’s Book of J.M. Dent & sons Evergreen Verse Ain’t I A Woman! Peter Bedrick Books Poems for Fourth Grade Continued Grade Poem STATUS Author Life Info 4 The Day Mother Came to School in her Nightgown need rights Dakos 4 The Dumb Solider public domain Robert Louis Stevenson 1850-1894 4 The Fox and the Crow need rights Daryl Hine 1936 4 The Giveaway need rights Phyllis McGinley 1905-1978 4 The New Duckling need rights Alfred Noyes 1880-1958 4 The Pig need rights Roald Dahl 4 The Sea Wolf need rights Violet McDougal 4 The Snopp on the Sidewalk need rights Jack Prelutsky 4 The Twins public domain Henry S. Leigh 1837-1883 4 The Witch of Willowby Wood need rights Rowena Bennett 1896- 4 Vacation Frustration need rights Kenn Nesbitt 4 When A Giant Has a Haircut need rights Kenn Nesbitt 4 When Tilli Ate the Chili need rights Jack Prelutsky 4 Wilbur Wright and Orville Wright 4 You Are Old, Father William no dates Rosemary&Stephen Vincent Benet public domain Lewis Carroll 1832-1898 Book New Oxford Book of Canadian Verse Poems to Read Aloud The Book of a Thousand Poems Publisher Oxford University Press W.W. Norton & Co. Peter Bedrick Books Favorite Poems Old Doubleday & Co. & New Sing A Song of Popcorn Scholastic Poems for Fifth Grade Grade Poem 5 Turtle and Flamingo STATUS public domain Author James Thomas Fields Life Info 1817-1881 Book Title Publisher Norton Anthology of English W.W. Norton & Co. Literature II 5 A Martian Sends a Postcard Home need rights Craig Raine 1944- 5 A Visit From St. Nick public domain Clement Clark Moore 1779-1863 5 Adventures of Isabel need rights Ogden Nash 1902-1971 Modern American Harcourt Brace & World Poetry 5 An Old Indian Lumber Camp Song Annar Marrar's Christmas Shopping Favorite Poems Old & New Doubleday & Co. American In Poetry Harry N. Adams Anthology of American Poetry Avenel Books 5 5 At the Theater need rights Rachel Field 1894-1942 5 Barbara Fritchie public domain John Greenleaf Whittier 1807-1892 5 Casey at the Bat need rights Ernest Lawrence Thayer no dates 5 Christopher Columbus need rights Stephen Vincent Benet 1898-1943 Rosemary&Stephen Vincent Benet 5 Clara Barton 5 Clementine need rights Percy Montrose no dates 5 Colonel Fazackerley need rights Charles Causley 1917- 5 Columbus Day need rights Jimmie Durham 1940- 5 Da Boy From Rome need rights Thomas Augustine Daly 1871-1948 5 Daniel Boone need rights Arthur Guiterman 1871-1943 5 Elizabeth Blackwell 5 Erie Canal public domain Williams Allen 5 Four Vain and Ancient Tortoises need rights Jack Prelutsky 5 Happy Birthday, Dear Dragon Unknown 5 Harriet Tubman Eloise Greenfield 1929 - 5 Jabberwocky public domain Lewis Carroll 1832-1898 5 James Buchanan 5 Jest 'Fore Christmas public domain Eugene Field 1850-1895 5 John Henry need rights Unknown 5 Legend need rights Judith Wright 5 Macavity: The Mystery Cat need rights T.S. Eliot 5 Molly Pitcher public domain Kate Brownlee Sherwood 5 My Brother Built a Robot need rights Jack Prelutsky 5 O Captain! My Captain! public domain Walt Whitman 5 Paul Revere's Ride public domain Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 5 Revolutionary Tea 5 Seein' Things public domain Eugene Field 1850-1895 5 Tartary need rights Walter de la Mare 1873-1956 HATNAP Favorite Poems Old & New Doubleday & Co. Eve Mirriam 1803-1879 AMFR New Oxford Book Oxford University Press of Australian Verse Cat Will Rhyme 1888-1965 with Hat: A Book Charles Scribner's Sons of Poems 1915- 1841-1914 Oxford Book of Children's Verse Oxford University Press Poems for Fifth Grade Continued Grade Poem STATUS Author Life Info Book Title 5 The Ant Eater public domain Edward Lear 5 The Brook public domain Alfred Lord Tennyson 5 The Cow Town Ballet need rights 5 The Dinkey Bird public domain Eugene Field 1850-1895 5 The Dorchester Giant public domain Oliver Wendell Holmes 1809-1894 5 The Embarrassing Episode of Little Miss Muffet public domain Guy Wetmore Carryl 1893-1904 ****check this 5 The Frogs Who Wanted A King 5 The Inchcape Rock public domain Robert Southey 1774-1843 5 The Little Black Eyed Rebel public domain Will Carleton 1845-1912 5 The New Vestments public domain Edward Lear 1812-1888 5 The Night Mail need rights W.H. Auden 1907-1973 CHTR 5 The Oregon Trail: 1843 need rights Arthur Guiterman 1871-1943 5 The Perfect Pets need rights Jack Prelutsky 5 The Quangle Wangle's Hat public domain Edward Lear 1812-1888 5 The Spider and the Fly public domain Mary Howitt 1799-1888 5 The Star Spangled Banner public domain Francis Scott Key 5 The Tale of Custard the Dragon need rights Ogden Nash 1902-1971 5 The Walrus and the Carpenter public domain Lewis Carroll 1832-1898 5 When I Grow Up need rights 1923 - Publisher 1809-1892 Kenn Nesbitt Joseph Lauren William Wise Favorite Poems Old & New Doubleday & Co. Favorite Poems Old & New Doubleday & Co. Wynken, Blynken and Nod Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe— Sailed on a river of crystal light, Into a sea of dew. “Where are you going, and what do you wish?” The old moon asked the three. “We have come to fish for the herring fish That live in this beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we!” Said Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. The old moon laughed and sang a song, As they rocked in the wooden shoe, And the wind that sped them all night long Ruffled the waves of dew. The little stars were the herring fish That lived in that beautiful sea--“Now cast your nets wherever you wish--Never afeared are we”; So cried the stars to the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. All night long their nets they threw To the stars in the twinkling foam--Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe, Bringing the fishermen home; ‘T/was all so pretty a sail it seemed As if it could not be, And some folks thought ‘twas a dream they’d dreamed Of sailing that beautiful sea— But I shall name you the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, And Nod is a little head, And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one’s trundle-bed. So shut your eyes while mother sings Of wonderful sights that be, And you shall see the beautiful things As you rock in the misty sea, Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three: Wynbken, Blynken And Nod. THE LOBSTER QUADRILLE Lewis Carroll “Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail, “There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles advance! They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you won’t you, Will you join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, Won’t you join the dance? “You can really have no notion how delightful it will be When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters out to sea!” But the snail replied, “Too far, too far!” and gave a look askance— Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not, Would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not, Could not join the dance. “What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied. “There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. The further off from England the near is to France— Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance. A BEETLE TALE E. Keary “O COME,” the elder beetle said, “For every one is safe in bed, “Tis time to seek our nightly bread.” Then forth he crept with stealthy tread. The clock ticked on—you would not deem Aught could have broke that peace supreme, The children slept, they scarce did dream, The young moon cast a fitful gleam. From crack and cranny beetles crept; In black and polished coats they stept Upon that floor, which Jane had swept. Ah me! How fast those children slept! The elder beetle scratched his head And thought a moment—then he said: “Follow me, children, and be fed.” Forth to the larder door he led. The Cook turned in her sleep—too late! She should have covered with a plate The dish that none shall save from fate; She dreams the clock is striking eight! But ah! Not yet the night has run, Not yet appears the morning sun— Cook’s handiwork is soon undone, The tarts are eaten every one! KING FASHION THERE was a King of England once, I shall not tell his name, But what this King of England thought, The people thought the same. All that he said they listened to, And called it wondrous wise; On everything in earth or heaven They looked with courtiers’ eyes. To every one of his commands They said, “So let it be.” There never yet a monarch was More absolute than he. One day within his presence-hall Two men stood forth together— One dressed in velvet and in gold, The other clad in leather. The King said to his people, “Remember what you’re told, You may kick the man in leather, You must kiss the man in gold.” Whilst on a country walk one day, The King espied a frog. “Why, here,” said he, “I’ve found a most Peculiar kind of dog! “He shall have meat for breakfast, Of milk three saucers full, A golden collar for his neck, And a bed of cotton-wool.” Then every courtier kept a frog And called it a peculiar dog! E.K. THE LOST DOLL I once had a sweet little doll, dears, The prettiest doll in the world; Her cheeks were so red and white, Dears, And her fair was so charmingly Curled. But I lost my poor little doll, dears, As I played on the heath one day’ And I cried for her more than a week, Dears, But I never could find where she lay. I found my poor little doll, dears, As I played on the heath one day; Folks say she is terribly changed, Dears, For her paint is all washed away, And her arms trodden off by the Cows, dears, And her hair not the least bit curled; Yet for old sake’s sake, she is still, Dears, The prettiest doll in the world. Charles Kinglsey THANKSGIVING DAY Over the river and through the wood To grandfather’s house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh Through the white and drifted snow. Over the river and through the wood— Oh, how the wind does blow! It stings the toes And bites the nose, As over the ground we go. Over the river and through the wood, To have a first-rate play. Hear the bells ring, “Ting-a-ling-ding!” Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day! Over the river and through the wood Trot fast, my dapple-gray! Spring over the ground, Like a hunting-hound! For this is Thanksgiving Day. Over the river and through the wood, And straight through the barnyard gate. We see to go Extremely slow,--It is so hard to wait! Over the river and through the wood--Now grandmother’s cap I spy! Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done? Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie! Lydia Maria Child A VISIT FROM MR. FOX The fox set out in hungry plight, And begged the moon to give him light, For he’d many a mile to travel that night, Before he could reach his den, Oh! First he came to a farmer’s yard, Where the ducks and geese declared it was hard That their nerves should be shaken, and their rest be marred By a visit from Mr. Fox, Oh! He seized the gray goose by the sleeve, Says he, “Madame Gray Goose, by your leave, I’ll carry you off without reprieve, And take you away to my den, Oh!” He seized the gray duck by the neck, And flung her over across his back, While the old duck cried out, “Quack, quack, quack!” With her legs dangling down behind, Oh! Then old Mrs. Flipper Flapper jumped out of her bed, And out of the window she popped her head, Crying, “John, John, John, the gray goose is gone, And the fox is off to his den, Oh!” So the fox he hurried home to his den, To his dear little foxes eight, nine ten. “We’re in luck, here’s a big fat duck With her legs dangling down behind, Oh!” The fox sat down with his hungry wife And they made a good meal without fork or knife. They never had a better time in all their life, And the little ones picked the bones, Oh! Author Unknown THE MOUSE AND THE CAKE A mouse found a beautiful piece of plum cake, The richest and sweetest that mortal could make; “Twas heavy with citron and fragrant with spice, And covered with sugar all sparkling as ice. “My stars!” cried the mouse, while his eye beamed with glee, “Here’s a treasure I’ve found: what a feast it will be; But, hark! There’s a noise, ‘tis my brothers at play; So I’ll hide with the cake, lest they wander this way. “Not a bit shall they have, for I know I can eat Every morsel myself, and I’ll have such a treat.” So off went the mouse as he held the cake fast; While his hungry young brothers went scampering past. He nibbled, and nibbled, and panted, but still He kept gulping it down till he made himself ill; Yet he swallowed it all, and ‘tis easy to guess, He was soon so unwell that he groaned with distress. His family heard him, and as he grew worse, They sent for the doctor, who made him rehearse How he’d eaten the cake to the very last crumb, Without giving his playmates and relatives some. “Ah me!” cried the doctor, “advice is too late; You must die before long, so prepare for your fate. If you had but divided the cake with your brothers, “Twould have done you no harm, and been good for the others. “Had you shared it, the treat had been wholesome enough; But eaten by one, it was dangerous stuff; So prepare for the worst---“ and the word had scarce fled, When the doctor turned round, the patient was dear. Now all little people the lesson may take, And some large ones may learn from the mouse and the cake; Not to be over-selfish with what we may gain, Or the best of our pleasures may turn into pain. ELIZA COOK Eliza Cook’s Journal, 1849 “ONE, TWO, THREE!” It was an old, old, old lady, And a boy that was half-past three; And the way that they played together Was beautiful to see. She couldn’t go romping and jumping, And the boy no more could he; For he was a thin little fellow, With a thin little twisted knee. They sat in the yellow sunlight, Out under the maple tree; And the game they played I’ll tell you, Just as it was told to me. It was hide-and–go-seek they were playing, Though you’d never have known it to be--With an old, old, old, old lady, And a boy with a twisted knee. The boy would bend his face down On his little sound right knee, And he guessed where she was hiding In guesses One, Two, Three. “You are in the china closet!” He would laugh and cry with glee--It wasn’t the china closet, But he still had Two and Three. “You are up in Papa’s big bedroom, In the chest with the queer old key!” And she said: “You are warm and warmer’ But you’re not quite right,” said she. “It can’t be the little cupboard Where Mamma’s things used to be--So it must be in the clothespress, Gran’ma!” And he found her with his Three. Then she covered her face with her fingers, That were wrinkled and white and wee, And she guessed where the boy was hiding, With a One and a Two and a Three. And they never had stirred from their places Right under the maple tree--This old, old, old, old lady, And the boy with the lame little knee--This dear, dear, dear old lady, And the boy who was half-past three. Henry Cuyler Bunner Little Orphant Annie Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay, An’ wash the cups and saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away, An’ shoo the chickens off the proch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ Sweep, An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board-an’keep An’ all us other children, when the supper things is done, We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun A – list’nin’ to the witch tales ‘at Annie tells about, An’ the Gobble-uns ‘at gits you Ef you Don’t Watch Out! Onc’t they was a little boy wouldn’t say his prayers, --So when he went to bed at night, away upstairs, His Mammy heerd him holler, an’ his Daddy heerd him bawl, An’ when they turn’t thekivvers down, he wasn’t there at all! An’ they seeked him in the rafter room, an’ cubbyhole, an’ press An; seeked him up the chimbly flue, an’ ever’wheres, I guess; But all they ever found was thist his pants an’ roundabout:--An; the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you Ef you Don’t Watch Out! An’ one time a little girl ‘ud allus laugh an’ grin, An’ make fun of ever’one, an’ all her blood an’ kin; An’ onc’t, when they was “company,” an’ ole folks was there, She mocked ‘em, an’ said she didn’t care! An’ thist as she kicked her heels, an’ turn’t to run an’ hide, They was two great big Black Things a-standin’ by her side, An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ‘fore she knowed what She’s about! An’ the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you Ef you Don’t Watch Out! Little Orpant Annie says, when the blaze is blue, An’ the lamp-wick sputters, an’ the wind goes woo-oo! An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray, An’ the lightnin’ bugs in dew is all squenched away, --You better mind yer parents, and yer techers fond an’ dear, An’ churish them ‘at loves you, an’ dry the orphant’s tear, An’ help the pore an’ needy ones ‘at clusters all about, Or the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you Ef you Don’t Watch Out! JAMES WHITCOME RILEY THE DUMB SOLDIER When the grass was closely mown, Walking on the lawn alone, In the turf a hole I found, And hid a soldier underground. Spring and daisies came apace; Grasses hide my hiding space; Grasses run like a green sea O’er the lawn up to my knee. Under grass alone he lies, Looking up with leaden eyes, Scarlet coat and pointed gun, To the stars and to the sun. When the grass is ripe like grain, When the scythe is stoned again, When the lawn is shaven clear, They my hole shall reappear. I shall find him, never fear, I shall find my grenadier; But for all that’s gone and come, I shall find my soldier dumb. He has lived, a little thing, In the grassy woods of spring; Done, if he could tell me true, Just as I should like to do. He has seen the starry hours And the springing of the flowers; And the fairy things that pass In the forests of the grass. In the silence he has heard Talking bee and ladybird, And the butterfly has flown O’er him as he lay alone. Not a word will he disclose, Not a word of all he knows. I must lay him on the shelf, And make up the tale myself. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM “You are old, father William,” the young man said, “And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head--Do you think, at your age, it is right?” “In my youth,” father William replied to his son, “I feared it would injure the brain; But now that I’m perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again.” “You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before, And have grown most uncommonly fat; Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--Pray, what is the reason of that?” “In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his grey locks, “I kept all my limbs very supple By the use of this ointment – one shilling the box --Allow me to sell you a couple.” “You are old,” said the youth, “and your jaws are too weak For anything tougher than suet; Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--Pray, how did you manage to do it?” “In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law, And argued each case with my wife; And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw, Has lasted the rest of my life.” “You are old,” said the youth; one would hardly suppose That your eye was as steady as ever; Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose --What made you so awfully clever?” “I have answered three questions, and that is enough,” Said his father; “Don’t give yourself airs! Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? Be off, or I’ll kick you down stairs!” LEWIS CARROLL THE CHILDREN’S HOUR Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupations, That is known as the Children’s Hour. I hear in the chamber above me, The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence: Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together To take me by surprise. A sudden rush from the stairway, A sudden raid from the hall! By three doors left unguarded They enter my castle wall! They climb up into my turret O’er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere. They almost devour me with kisses, Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine! Do you thin, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old mustache as I am Is not a match for you all! I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart. And there will I keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And moulder in dust away! HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song; And if you find it wondrous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, Whene’er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes. And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree. This dog and man at first were friends; But when a pique began, The dog, to gain his private ends, Went mad, and bit the man. Around from all the neighbouring streets The wondering neighbours ran, And swore the dog had lost his wits, To bite so good a man. The would it seemed both sore and sad To every Christian eye; And while they swore the dog was mad, They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light, That showed the rogues they lied; The man recovered of the bit, The dog it was that died. OLIVER GOLDSMITH The Twins In form and feature, face and limb, I grew so like my brother, That folks got taking me for him, And each for one another. It puzzled all our kith and kin, It reached an awful pitch; For one of us was born a twin, Yet not a soul knew which. One day (to make the matter worse), Before our names were fixed, As we were being washed by nurse We got completely mixed; And thus, you see, by Fate’s decree (Or rather nurse’s whim), My brother John got christened me, And I got christened him. This fatal likeness even dogged My footsteps when at school, And I was always getting flogged For John turned out a fool. I put this question hopelessly To everyone I knew--What would you do, if you were me, To prove that you were you? Our close resemblance turned the tide Of my domestic life; For somehow my intended bride Became my bother’s wife. In short, year after year the same Absurd mistake went on; And when I died---the neighbors came And buried brother John! Henry S. Leigh ELDORADO Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old--This knight so bold--And o’er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow--“Shadow,” said he, “Where can it be--This land of Eldorado?” “Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down in the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride,” The shade replied, “If you seek for Eldorado.” EDGAR ALLEN POE THE DINKEY BIRD EUGENE FIELD In an ocean, ‘way out yonder, (as all sapient people know) Is the land of Wonder-Wander, Whither children love to go; It’s their playing, romping, swinging, That give great joy to me While the Dinkey-Bird goes singing In the amfalula tree! There the gum-drops grow like cherries, And taffy’s thick as peas— Caramels you pick like berries When, and where, and how you please; Big red sugar-plums are clinging To the cliffs beside that sea Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing In the amfalula tree! So when children shout and scamper And make merry all the day, When there’s naught to put a damper To the ardor of their play; When I hear their laughter ringing, Then I’m sure as sure can be That the Dinkey-Bird is singing In the amfalula tree! For the Dinkey-Bird’s bravuras And staccatos are so sweet— His roulades, appoggiaturas, And robustos so complete, That the youth of every nation— Be they near or far away— Have especial delectation In that gladsome roundelay. Their eyes grow bright and brighter, Their lungs begin to crow, Their hearts get light and lighter, And their cheeks are all aglow; For an echo cometh bringing The news to all and me, That the Dinkey-Bird is singing In the amfalula tree. I’m sure you like to go there To see your feathered friend— And so many goodies grow there You would like to comprehend! Speed, little drams, your winging To that land across the sea Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing In the amfalula tree! B A RB A RA FRI E T C H I E J o h n Gr e e n l e a f Wh i t t i e r Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand G r e e n - w a l l e d b y t h e h i l l s o f M a r yl a n d , Round about them orchards sweep, Apple and peach tree fruited deep, Fair as the garden of the Lord T o t h e e ye s o f t h e f a m i s h e d r e b e l h o r d e , On that pleasant morn of the early fall When Lee marched over the mountain -wall Over the mountains winding down, Horse and foot, into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind ; the sun Of noon looked down and saw not one. Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, B o w e d w i t h h e r f o u r s c o r e ye a r s a n d t e n ; Bravest of all in Frederick town, She took up the flag the men hauled down; In her attic window the staff she set, T o s h o w t h a t o n e h e a r t w a s l o ya l ye t . Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead . Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced; the old flag met his sight. “Halt!” – the dust-brown ranks stood fast. “Fire!” – out blazed the rifle-blast. It shivered the window, pane and sash’ It rent the banner with seam and gash. Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf. She leaned far out on the window -sill, A n d s h o o k i t f o r t h w i t h a r o ya l w i l l . “ S h o o t , i f yo u m u s t , t h i s o l d g r a y h e a d , B u t s p a r e yo u r c o u n t r y’ s f l a g , ” s h e s a i d . A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman’s deed and word; “ W h o t o u c h e s a h a i r o f yo n g r a y h e a d Dies like a dog! March on!” he said. All day long through Frederick street Sounded the tread of marching feet: All day long that free flag tossed Over the heads of the rebel host. Ever its torn folds rose and fell O n t h e l o ya l w i n d s t h a t l o v e d i t w e l l ; And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good -night Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er, And the Rebel rides on his raids no more. Honor to her! And let a tear Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier. Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave, Flag of Freedom and Union, Wave! Peace and order and beauty draw R o u n d t h y s ym b o l o f l i g h t a n d l a w ; And ever the stars above look down On thy stars below in Frederick town!. Paul Revere’s Ride Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Listen m y children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Sevent y-five; Hardl y a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. He said to his friend, "If the British march By land or sea from the town tonight, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light — One, if by land, and two, if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm, For the country folk to be u p and to arm." Then he said "Good -night!" and with muffled oar Silentl y rowed to the Charlestown shore, Just as the moon rose over the bay, Where swinging wide at her moorings lay The Somerset, British man-of-war; A phantom ship, with each mast and spar Across the moon like a prison bar, And a huge black hulk, that was magnified By its own reflection in the tide. Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street, Wanders and watches, with eager ears, Till in the silence around him he hears The muster of m en at the barrack door, The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, And the measured tread of the grenadiers, Marching down to their boats on the shore. Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church, By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread, To the belfry-chamber overhead, And startled the pigeons from their perch On the somber rafters, that round him made Masses and moving shapes of shade — By the trembling ladder, steep and tall, To the highest window in the wall, Where he paused to listen and look down A moment on the roofs of the town And the moonlight flowing over all. Beneath in the churchyard, lay the dead, In their night-encampment on the hill, Wrapped in silence so deep and still That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread, The watchful night-wind, as it went Creeping along from tent to tent, And seeming to whisper, "All is well!" A moment onl y he feels the spell Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread Of the lonel y belfry and the dead; For suddenl y all his thoughts are bent On a shadowy something far away, Where the river widens to meet the bay— A line of black that bends and floats On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. Now he patted his horse's side, Now he gazed at the landscape far and near, Then, impetuous, stamped the earth, And turned and tightened his saddle girth; But mostl y he watched with eager search The belfry tower of the Old North Church, As it rose above the graves on the hill, Lonel y and spectral and sombre and still. And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height A glimmer, and then a gleam of light! He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, But lingers and gazes, till full on his sig ht A second lamp in the belfry burns. A hurry of hoofs in a village street, A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark Struck out by a steed fl ying fearless and fleet; That was all! And yet, through t he gloom and the light, The fate of a nation was riding that night; And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, Kindled the land into flame with its heat. He has left the village and mounted the steep, And beneath him, tranquil and broad and de ep, Is the M ystic, meeting the ocean tides; And under the alders that skirt its edge, Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge, Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides. It was twelve by the village clock, When he crossed the bridge into Medford to wn. He heard the crowing of the cock, And the barking of the farmer's dog, And felt the damp of the river fog, That rises after the sun goes down. It was one by the village clock, When he galloped into Lexington. He saw the gilded weathercock Swim in the moonlight as he passed, And the meeting-house windows, black and bare, Gaze at him with a spectral glare, As if they already stood aghast At the bloody work they would look upon. It was two by the village clock, When he came to the bridge in Concord town . He heard the bleating of the flock, And the twitter of birds among the trees, And felt the breath of the morning breeze Blowing over the meadow brown. And one was safe and asleep in his bed Who at the bridge would be first to fall, Who that day would be l ying dead, Pierced by a British musket -ball. You know the rest. In the books you have read How the British Regulars fired and fled — How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farm yard wall, Chasing the redcoats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And onl y pausing to fire and load. So through the night rode Paul Revere; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm – A cry of defiance, and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo for evermore! For, borne on the night -wind of the Past, Through all our history, to the last, In the hour of darkness and peril and need, The people will waken a nd listen to hear The hurrying hoof -beats of that steed, And the midnight message of Paul Revere. THE EMBARRASSING EPISODE OF LITTLE MISS MUFFET Guy Wetmore Carryl Little Miss Muffett discovered a tuffet, (Which never occurred to the rest of us) And, as ‘twas a June day, and just about noonday, She wanted to eat—like the best of us: Her diet was whey, and I hasten to say It is wholesome and people grow fat on it. The spot being lonely, the lady not only Discovered the tuffet, but sat on it. A rivulet gabbled beside her and babbled, As rivulets always are thought to do, And dragon flies sported around and cavorted, As poets say dragon flies ought to do; When, glancing aside for a moment, she spied A horrible sight that brought fear to her, A hideous spider was sitting beside her, And most unavoidably near to her! Albeit unsightly, this creature politely Said: “Madam, I earnestly vow to you, I’m penitent that I did not bring my hat. I Should otherwise certainly bow to you.” Though anxious to please, he was so ill at ease That he lost all his sense of propriety, And grew to inept that he clumsily stept In her plate—which is barred in society. This curious error completed her terror; She shuddered, and growing much paler, not Only left tuffet, but dealt him a buffet Which doubled him up in a sailor knot. It should be explained that at this he was pained: He cried: “I have vexed you, no doubt of it! Your fist’s like a truncheon.” “You’re still in my luncheon,” Was all that she answered. “Get out of it!” And the Moral is this: Be it madam or miss To whom you have something to say, You are only absurd when you get in the curd But you’re rude when you get in the whey! THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER By Francis Scott Key Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight, O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming? And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam, In full glory reflected now shines in the stream: “Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion, A home and a country should leave us no more! Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps’ pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave! Oh! Thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand Between their loved home and the war’s desolation! Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n rescued land Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation. Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, And this be our motto: “In God is our trust.” And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave! THE INCHCAPE ROCK No stir in the air, no stir in the sea— The ship was as still as she could be; Her sails from heaven received no motion; Her keel was steady in the ocean. Without either sign or sound of their shock, The waves flowed over the Inchcape rock; So little they rose, so little they fell, They did not move the Inchcape bell. The holy Abbot of Aberbrothok Had placed that bell on the Inchcape rock; On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung And over the waves it warning rung. When the rock was hid by the surges’ swell, The mariners heard the warning bell; And then they knew the perilous rock; And blessed the Abbot of Aberbrothok. The sun in heaven was shining gay— All things were joyful on that day; The sea-birds screamed as they wheeled around, And there way joyance in their sound. The buoy of the Inchcape bell was seen, A darker speck on the ocean green; Sir Ralph, the rover, walked his deck, And he fixed his eyes on the darker speck. His eye was on the bell and float; Quoth he, “My men, put out the boat; And row me to the Inchcape rock, And I’ll plague the priest of Aberbrothok.” The boat is lowered, the boatmen row, And to the Inchcape rock they go; Sir Ralph bent over from the boat, And cut the warning bell from the float. Down sank the bell with a gurgling sound; The bubbles rose, and burst around. Quoth Sir Ralph, “The next who comes to the rock Will not bless the Abbot of Aberbrothik.” Sir Ralph, the rover, sailed away— He scoured the seas for many aday; And now, grown rich with plundered store, He steers his course to Scotland’s shore. So thick a haze o’erspreads the sky, They cannot see the sun on high; The wind hath blown a gale all day; At evening it hath died away. On the deck the rover takes his stand; So dark it is they see no land. Quoth Sir Ralph, “It will be lighter soon, For there is the dawn of the rising moon.” “Canst hear,” said one, “the breakers roar? For yonder, methinks, should be the shore. Now where we are I cannot tell, But I wish we could hear the Inchcape bell.” They hear no sound; the swell is strong; Though the wind hath fallen, They drift along: Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock— O Christ! It is the Inchcape rock! Sir Ralph, the rover, tore his hair; He cursed himself in his despair. The waves rush in on every side; The ship is sinking beneath the tide. But ever in his dying fear, One dreadful sound he seemed to h ear— A sound as if with the Inchcape bell The Devil below was ringing his knell. ROBERT SOUTHEY THE ERIE CANAL We were forty miles from Albany, Forget it, I never shall! What a terrible storm we had one night On the Erie Canal. Refrain: Oh, The Erie was rising, And gin was getting low, And I scarcely think we’ll get a drink Till we get to Buffalo. The winds began to whistle, And the waves began to roll, And we had to reel our royals On the raging canal. Refrain: We were loaded down with barley, We were chuck up full of rye, And the captain, he looked at me With his gol-durn wicked eye. Refrain: Two miles out from Syracuse The vessel struck a shoal, And we like to all been foundered On a chunk o’ Lackawanna coal. Refrain: We hollered to the captain On the towpath, treadin’ dirt; He jumped on board and stopped the leak With his old red flannel shirt. Refrain: When we get to Syracuse The off-mule he was dead, The nigh mule got blind staggers, And we cracked him on the head. Refrain: The cook she was a grand ol’ girl, She had a ragged dress. We hoisted her upon a pole As a signal of distress Refrain: The captain, he got married, The cook, she went to jail; And I’m the only son-of-a-gun That’s left to tell the tail. Refrain: MOLLY PITCHER Kate Brownlee Sherwood “Twas hurry and scurry at Monmouth town, For Lee was beating a wild retreat; The British were riding the Yankees down, And panic was pressing on flying fee. Galloping down like a hurricane Washington rode with his sword swung high Mighty as he of the Trojan plain Fired by a courage from the sky. “Halt, and stand to your guns!” he cried. And a bombardier made swift reply. Wheeling his cannon into the tide, He fell ‘neath the shot of a foeman nigh. Molly Pitcher sprang to his side, Fired as she saw her husband do. Telling the king in his stubborn pride Women like men to their homes are true. Washington rode from the bloody fray Up to the gun that a woman manned. “Molly Pitcher, you saved the day,” He said, as he gave her a hero’s hand. He named her sergeant with manly praise, While her war-brown face was wet with tears— A woman has ever a woman’s ways, And the army was wild with cheers. THE DORCHESTER GIANT OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES There was a giant in times of old, A mighty one was he; He had a wife, but she was a scold, So he kept her shut in his mammoth fold; And he had children three. It happened to be an election day, And the giants were choosing a king; The people were not democrats then, They did not talk of the rights of men, And all that sort of thing. Then the giant took his children three, And fastened them in the pen; The children roared; quoth the giant, “Be still!” And Dorchester Heights and Milton Hill Rolled back the sound again. Then he brought them a pudding stuffed with plums, As big as the State House dome; Quoth he, “There’s something for you to eat; So stop your mouths with you ‘lection treat, And wait till your dad comes home. So the giant pulled him a chestnut stout, And whittled the boughs away; The boys and their mother set up a shout, Said he, “You’re in, and you can’t get out, Bellow as loud as you may.” Off he went, and he growled a tune As he strode the fields along; “Tis said a buffalo fainted away, And fell as cold as a lump of clay, When he heard the giant’s song. But whether the story’s true or not, It isn’t for me to show; There’s many a thing that’s twice as queer In somebody’s lectures that we hear, And those are true you know. What are those lone ones doing now, The wilfe and the children sad? Oh, they are in a terrible rout, Screaming, and throwing their pudding about, Acting as they were mad. They flung it over to Roxbury hills, They flung it over the plain, And all over Milton and Dorchester too Great lumps of pudding the giants threw; They tumbled as thick as rain. Giant and mammoth have passed away, For ages have floated by; The suet is hard as a marrowbone, And every plum is turned to stone, But there the puddings lie. And if, some pleasant afternoon, You’ll ask me out to ride, The whole of the story I will tell, And you shall see where the puddings fell, And pay for the punch beside. The Brook BY ALFRED LORD TENNYSON I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. I chatter over stony ways In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I wind about and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling. And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel. I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my singly bars; I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. JEST ‘FORE CHRISTMAS Eugene Field Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill! Mightly glad I ain’t a girl—ruther be a boy, Without them sashes, curls, an’ things that’s worn by Fauntleroy! Love to chawnk green apples an’ go swimmin’ in the lake— Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly-ache! “Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain’t no flies on me, But jest ‘fore Christmas I’m as good as I kin be! Got a yeller dog named Sport, sic him on the cat; First thing she knows she doesn’t know where she is at! Got a clipper sled, an’ when us kids goes out to slide, Long comes the grocery cart, an’ we all hoot a ride! But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an’ cross, He reaches at us with his whip, an’ larrups up his hoss, An’ then I laff an’ hollaer, “Oh, ye never teched me!” But jest ‘fore Christmas I’m as good as I kin be! Gran’ma says she hopes that when I get to be a man, I’ll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan, As was et up by the cannibals that lives in Ceylon’s Isle, Where every prospeck pleases, an’ only man is vile! But Gran’ma she has never been to see a Wild West Show, Nor read the life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she’d know That Buff’lo Bill an’ cowboys is good enough for me! Excep’ jest ‘fore Christmas, when I’m good as I kin be! And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemn-like an’ still, His eyes they keep a-sayin’: “What’s the matter, little Bill?” The old cat sneaks down off her perch an’ wonders what’s become Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things jum! But I am so lerlite an’ ‘tend so earnestly to biz, That Mother says to Father: “How improved our Willie is!” But Father, havin’ been a boy hisself, suspicions me When, jest ‘fore Christmas, I’m as good as I kin be! For Christmas, with it lots an’ lots of candies, cakes, an’ toys, Was made, they say, for proper kids, an’ not for naughty boys; So wash yer face an’ bresh yer hair, an’ mind yer p’s and q’s, An’ don’t bust out yer pantaloons, and don’t wear out yer shoes; Say “yessum” to the ladies, an’ “yessur” to the men, An’ when they’s company, don’t pass yer plate for pie again; But, thinkin’ of the things yer’d like to see upon that tree, Jest ‘fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be! THE SPIDER AND THE FLY Mary Howitt “Will you walk into my parlor?” said the Spider to the Fly, “’Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy; The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things to show when you are there.” “Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is in vain; For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.” “I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the Spider to the Fly. “There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin; And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in!” “Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “for I’ve often heard it said They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!” Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, “Dear friend, what can I do To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you? I have within my pantry, good store of all that’s nice; I’m sure you’re very welcome—will you please take a slice?” “Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “kind sir, that cannot be, I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!” “Sweet creature,” said the Spider, “you’re witty and you’re wise; How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes! I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf; If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.” “I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say, And bidding you good-morning now, I’ll call another day.” The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again; So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly, And set his table ready to dine upon the Fly. Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing, “Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing; Your robes are green and purple, there’s a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead.” Alas, alas! How very soon this silly little Fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,-Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue; Thinking only of her crested head—poor foolish thing! At last, Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast. He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den Within his little parlor—but she ne’er came out again! And now, dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed; Unto an evil counselor close heart, and ear, and eye, And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly. THE QUANGLE WANGLE’S HAT On the top of the Crumpetty Tree The Quangle Wangle sat, But his face you could not see, On account of his Beaver Hat. For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide, With ribbons and bibbons on every side And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace, So that nobody every could see the face Of the Quangle Wangle Quee. The Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, --“Jam; and jelly; and bread; “Are the best of food for me! “But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree “The plainer than ever it seems to me “That very few people come this way “And that life on the whole is far from gay!” Said the Quangle Wangle Quee. But there came to the Crumpetty Tree, Mr. And Mrs. Canary; And they said, -- “Did you every see “Any spot so charmingly airy? “May we build a nest on your lovely Hat? “Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! “O please let us come and buld a nest “Of whatever material suits you best, “Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!” And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl; The Snail, and the Bumble-Bee, The Frog, and the Fimble Fowl; (The Fimble Fowl, with a corkscrew leg;) And all of them said, -- “We humbly beg “We may build out homes on your lovely Hat, -“Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! “Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!” And the Golden Grouse came there, And the Pobble who has no toes, -And the small Olympian bear, -And the Dong with a luminous nose. And the Blue Baboon, who played the Flute, -And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute, -And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, -All came and built on the lovely Hat Of the Quantle Wangle Quee. And the Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, -“When all these creatures move “What a wonderful noise there’ll be!” And at night by the light of the Mulberry Moon They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon, On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree, And all were as happy as happy could be, With the Quangle Wangle Quee SEEIN’ THINGS I ain’t afeard uv snakes, or toads, or bugs, or worms, or mice, An’ things ‘at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice! I’m pretty brace, I guess; an’ yet I hate to go to bed, For when I’m tucked up warm an’ snug an’ when my prayers are said, Mother tells me, “Happy dreams!” an’ takes away the light, An’ leaves me lyin’ all alone an’ seein’ things at night! Sometimes they’re in the corner, sometimes they’re by the door, Sometimes they’re all a-standin’ in the middle uv the floor; Sometimes they are a-sittin’ down, sometimes they’re walkin’ round So softly an’ so creepylike they never make a sound! Sometimes they are as black as ink, an’ other times they’re white --But the color ain’t no difference when you see things at night! Once, when I licked a feller ‘at had just moved on our street, An’ father sent me up to bed without a bite to eat, I woke up in the dark an’ saw things standin’ in a row, A-lookin’ at me cross-eyed an’ p’intin’ at me – so! Oh, my! I wuz so skeered that time I never slep’ a mite – It’s almost alluz when I’m bad I see things at night! Lucky think I ain’t a girl, or I’d be skeered to death! Bein’ I’m a boy, I duck my head an’ hold my breath; An’ I am, oh! So sorry I’m a naughty boy, an’ then I promise to be better an’ I say my prayers again! Gran’ma tells me that’s the only way to make it right When a fellar has been wicked an’ sees things at night! An’ so, when other naughty boys would coax me into sin, I try to skwush the Tempter’s voice ‘at urges me within; An’ when they’s pie for supper, or cake ‘at’s big an’ nice, I want to --- but I do not pass my plate f’r them things twice! No, ruther let starvationa wipe me slowly out o’ sight Than I should keep a-livin’ on an’ seein’ things at night! Eugene Field The New Vestments T her e li ved a n o ld ma n i n t he Ki n gd o m o f T es s, W ho i n ve nt ed a p u r el y o ri gi na l d re s s; An d wh e n i t wa s p er fe ct l y mad e a nd co mp le te, He o p e n ed t h e d o o r , a nd wa l ked i n to t he str ee t. B y wa y o f a ha t, he ’d a lo a f o f B ro wn B re ad , I n t he mi d d l e o f wh ic h h e i n ser ted h is head ; Hi s S hir t wa s mad e up o f no e nd o f d ead M ic e, T he wa r mt h o f wh o se s k in s wa s q u it e fl u ffy a nd ni ce ; Hi s D r a we r s we r e o f R a b b it - s ki n s ; so we re h is S ho e s ; Hi s Sto c k i n g s we r e s k i n s – b u t i t i s no t k no wn wh o s e; Hi s W a i stco at a nd T r o u s ers wer e mad e o f P o r k C ho p s; Hi s B ut to n s we r e J uj ub e s, a nd C ho co l ate Dro p s ; Hi s Co a t wa s al l P a nc a k es wi t h J a m fo r a b o rd er , An d a g ir d l e o f B i s c uit s to keep i t i n o rd er; An d he wo r e o v er a ll, a s a s cree n fro m b ad we at her , A Clo a k o f gr e e n Cab b a ge - le a ve s st itc h ed a ll to ge t her. He had wa l ked a s ho r t wa y, wh e n he h ear d a gre at no i s e, O f a ll so r ts o f B ea s tic le s, B ird l i n gs , a nd B o ys ; An d fr o m e ver y lo n g str eet a nd d ar k la n e i n t he to wn B eas t s, B ir d le s, a nd B o y s i n a t u mu l t r u s hed d o wn. T wo Co ws a nd a h al f at e h is Cab b a g e -le a f Clo a k ; Fo ur Ap e s s ei zed h is G i rd le, wh i c h va n is h ed l i k e s mo k e; T hr ee Kid s a te up hal f o f h i s P a nca k e y Co a t, An d t h e ta il s wer e d e vo ured b y a n a nci e nt He G o at; An ar m y o f Do g s i n a t win k li n g to r e up hi s P o r k W a i stco at a nd T r o u ser s to gi v e to t he ir P u p p ie s; An d wh i l e t h e y we r e gr o wl i n g , a nd mu mb l i n g t h e C ho p s, T en B o ys p r i g g ed t h e J u j ub e s a nd C ho co la te Dro p s. He tr ied to r u n b ac k to h is ho u s e, b ut i n v ai n, Fo r Sco r e s o f fat P i g s c a me a g ai n a nd a ga i n; T he y r u s hed o u t o f st ab l es a nd ho ve ls a nd d o o r s, T he y to r e o f f h is s to c k i n g s, h is s ho es , a nd h i s d ra wer s ; An d no w f r o m t h e ho u se to p s wi t h scr eec h i n g s d e sce nd , Str ip ed , sp o tted , wh i t e, b lac k, a nd gra y C at s wi t ho u t e nd , T he y j u mp ed o n h is s ho uld er s a nd k no c ked o ff hi s h at, W he n C r o ws , D uc k s, a n d He n s mad e a mi nc e me at o f t ha t, T he y sp eed il y f le w a t hi s sl ee ve s i n a tri ce, An d ut ter l y to r e up hi s S hir t o f d ead M ic e; T he y s wa llo wed t he la st o f h i s S hir t wi t h a sq ua ll, W her eo n he r a n ho me wit h no clo t he s o n a t a ll . An d he sa id to hi ms e l f a s he b o lt ed t h e d o o r, “I wi l l no t we ar a s i mi la r d res s a n y mo re, An y mo r e, a n y mo r e , a n y mo r e, ne v er mo re !” Ed ward Lear The Walrus and the Carpenter T he s u n wa s s h i ni n g o n th e sea , S hi n i n g wi t h al l hi s mi g ht : He d id hi s ve r y b e st to ma k e T he b i llo ws s mo o t h a nd b ri g ht — An d t h is wa s o d d , b ec a u se it wa s T he mid d l e o f t he ni g h t. T he mo o n wa s s hi n i n g s ul k il y, B eca u se s he t ho u g ht t he s u n Had go t no b u si ne s s to b e t her e Afte r t he d a y wa s d o ne — ‘I t ’ s ver y r ud e o f h i m, ’ s he sa id , ‘T o co me a nd sp o i l t h e fu n !’ T he sea wa s wet a s we t co u ld b e, T he sa nd s we re d r y a s d r y. Yo u co u ld no t se e a clo ud , b eca u se No c lo ud wa s i n t he s k y : No birds were flying overhead— T here were no b ird s to fl y. T he W a lr us a nd t he Car p en ter W ere wa l k i n g c lo s e a t h and ; T he y we p t li k e a n yt h i n g el se to see S uc h q u a nti ti e s o f sa nd : ‘I f t hi s we r e o nl y cl eare d a wa y, ’ T he y said , ‘i t wo u ld b e gra nd !’ ‘I f s e ve n ma id s wi t h s e v en mo p s S we p t it fo r hal f a ye ar, Do yo u s up p o s e, ’ t he W alr u s said , ‘T h at t he y co uld g et it c lear? ’ ‘I d o ub t it, ’ s aid t he Car p en ter, An d s h ed a b it ter te ar. ‘ O O ys t er s, co me a nd wal k wit h us !’ T he W a lr us d id b es eec h. ‘ A p l ea sa nt wa l k, a p l ea sa n t t al k, Alo n g t he b r i n y b e ac h: W e ca n no t d o wit h mo re t ha n fo ur , T o gi ve a ha nd to e ac h. ’ T he e ld e st O ys ter lo o ke d at h i m, B ut ne ver a wo rd he sa i d : T he e ld e st O ys ter wi n k e d h is e ye, An d s ho o k hi s he a v y he ad — Mea n i n g to s a y he d id n o t c ho o se T o lea ve t he o ys t er -b ed . B ut fo ur yo u n g O ys ter s h urr ied up , All ea g er fo r t he trea t: T heir co at s wer e b r u s he d , t he ir fa ce s wa s h ed , T heir s ho e s wer e c lea n and nea t — An d t h is wa s o d d , b ec a u se, yo u k no w, T he y had n ’t a n y fee t. Fo ur o t h er O ys ter s fo llo we d t he m An d ye t a no t her fo ur ; An d t h ic k a n d fa st t he y ca me at la st , An d mo re, a nd mo r e, a n d mo r e — All ho p p i n g t hro u g h t he fro t h y wa ve s, An d s cra mb li n g to t he s ho re . T he W a lr us a nd t he Car p en ter W al ked o n a mi le o r so , An d t h e n t h e y re st ed o n a ro c k Co n ve n ie n tl y lo w: An d a ll t he li tt le O ys ter s sto o d An d wa i ted i n a ro w. ‘T h e t i me h a s co me , ’ t h e W alr u s sa id , ‘T o ta l k o f ma n y t h i n g s: O f s ho e s — a nd s hip s —a nd se al i n g - wa x — O f cab b a ge s —a nd k i n gs — An d wh y t he se a i s b o il i n g ho t — An d wh e t her p i g s ha v e wi n g s . ’ ‘B u t wa it a b it, ’ t he O ys ter cr ied , ‘B e fo re we ha v e o ur c h a t; Fo r so me o f us are o u t o f b r eat h , An d a ll o f u s are fat !’ ‘ No h urr y!’ sa id t he Car p en ter. T he y t h a n ked h i m mu c h fo r t ha t. ‘ A lo a f o f b r ead , ’ t he W alr u s said , ‘I s wh at we c hi e fl y n eed : P ep p er a nd v i ne gar b e si d es Are ve r y go o d i nd eed — No w i f yo u ’re read y, O y st ers d ear , W e ca n b e gi n to fe ed . ’ ‘B u t no t o n us !’ t he O ys ter s cr ied , T urn i n g a li tt le b l ue. ‘ Af t er s uc h k i nd ne ss , t h at wo uld b e A d i s ma l t h i n g to d o !’ ‘T h e ni g h t i s fi ne, ’ t h e W alr u s said , ‘Do yo u ad mi re t he vie w? ’ ‘I t wa s so ki nd o f yo u to co me ! An d yo u ar e ver y n ic e !’ T he Carp e n ter s aid no t h in g b ut ‘C u t us a no t h er sl ice : I wi s h yo u wer e no t q u it e so d ea f — I’v e had to a s k yo u t wi c e!’ ‘I t see ms a s ha me , ’ t h e W alr u s said , ‘T o p la y t he m s u c h a tri ck, Af te r we ’v e b ro u g h t t h e m o u t so far , An d mad e t he m tro t so q ui c k !’ T he Carp e n ter s aid no t h in g b ut ‘T h e b ut ter ’s sp re ad to o t hic k !’ ‘I we ep fo r yo u, ’ t he W alr u s said : ‘I d eep l y s y mp at h iz e. ’ W it h so b s a nd tea rs he s o rted o u t T ho se o f t h e l ar ge st s ize , Ho ld i n g hi s p o c k et - h a nd ker c hi e f B efo r e hi s s trea mi n g e y es. ‘ O O ys t er s, ’ sa id t h e Ca rp en ter, ‘Yo u ’ve h ad a p lea sa n t r u n !’ S ha ll we b e tro tt i n g ho me a ga i n? ’ B ut a n s we r ca me t here n o ne — An d t h is wa s sc ar c el y o d d , b eca u se T he y’d ea te n e ver y o n e. Lewis Carroll O C AP TA I N ! M Y C AP TA IN ! O Captain! my Captai n! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the peop le all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel gri m and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and h ear t he bells; Rise up—for you the f lag is flung —for you t he bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here, Captain! dear f ather! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You’ ve fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pal e and still, My father does not feel my ar m, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor’d safe and soun d, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in wi th obj ect won; Exult, O shores! and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful t read, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. W alt W h it ma n The Ant-Eater Some Wealthy folks from U.S.A., Who lived near San Francisco Bay, Possessed an only child called Roy, A plump and unattractive boyHalf-baked, half-witted and half-boiled, But worst of all, most dreadfully spoiled. Whatever Roy desired each day, His father bought him right awayToy motor-car, electric trains, The latest model aeroplanes, A colour television-set A saxophone, a clarinet, Expensive teddy-bears that talked, And animals that walked and squawked. That house contained sufficient toys To thrill a half a million boys. (As well as this, young Roy would choose, Two pairs a week of brand-new shoes.) And now he stood there shouting,” What “On earth is there I haven’t got? “How hard to think of something new! “The choices are extremely few!” Then added, as he scratched his ear, “Hold it! I’ve got a good idea! “I think the next thing I must get “Should be a most peculiar pet“The kind that no one else has got“A giant ANT_EATER! Why not?” As soon as father heard the news, He quickly wrote to all the zoos, “Dear Sirs,” he said, “My dear keepers, “Do any of you have ant-eater?” They answered by return of mail. “Our ant-eaters are not for sale.” Undaunted, Roy’s fond parent hurled More messages across the world. He said, “I’ll pay you through the nose “If you can get me one of those.” At last he found an Indian gent (He lived near Delhi, in a tent), Who said that he would sacrifice His pet for an enormous price (The price demanded, if you please, Was fifty thousand gold rupees). The ant-eater arrived half-dead. It looked at Roy and softly said, “I’m famished. Do you think you could “Please give me just a little food? “A crust of bread, a bit of meat? “I haven’t had a thing to eat “In all the time I was at sea, “For nobody looked after me.” Roy shouted, “No! No bread or meat! “Go find some ants! They’re what you eat!” The starving creature crawled away. It searched the garden night and day, It hunted every inch of ground, But not one single ant it found “Please give me food!” the creature cried. “Go find an ant!” the boy replied By chance upon that very day, Roy’s father’s sister came to stay A foul old hag of eighty-three Whose name, it seems was Dorothy. She said to Roy, “Come let us sit “Out in the sun and talk a bit.” Roy said, “I don’t believe you’ve met “My new and most unusual pet?” He pointed down among the stones Where something lay, all skin and bones. “Ant-eater!” he yelled. “Don’t lie there yawning!” “This is my ant! Come say good-morning!” (Some people in the U.S.A. Have trouble with the words they say, However hard they try they can’t Pronounce a simple word like AUNT Instead of AUNT they call it ANT, Instead of CAN’T they call it KAN’T Roy yelled, “Come here, you so-and-so! “My ant would like to say hello!” Slowly, the creature raised its head. “D’you mean that’s an ant?” it said. “Of course!” cried Roy. “Ant Dorothy!” “This ant is over eighty-three.” The creature smiled. It’s tummy rumbled. It licked it’s starving lips and mumbled, “A giant ant! By gosh, a winner! “At last I’ll get a decent dinner! “No matter if it’s eighty-three “If that’s an ant, then it’s for me!” Then, taking very careful aim, It pounced upon the startled dame. It grabbed her firmly by the hair And ate her up right then and there, Murmuring as it chewed the feet, “The largest ant I’ll ever eat.” Meanwhile, our hero Roy had sped In terror to the potting-shed, And tried to make himself obscure Behind a pile of horse-manure. But ant-eater came sneaking in (Already he was much less thin) And said to Roy, “You little squirt. “I think I’ll have you for dessert.” Edward Lear The Little Black-Eyed Rebel Will Carleton A boy drove into the cit y, his wagon loaded down With food to feed the people of the British -governed town; And the little black -eyed rebel, so innocent and sl y, Was watching for his coming from the corner of her eye. His face looked broad and honest, his hands were brown and tough, The clothes he wore upon him were homespun, coarse, and rough; But one there was who watched him, who long time lingered nigh And cast at him sweet glances from the corner of her eye. He drove up to the market, he waited in the line; His apples and potatoes were fresh and fair and fine; But long and long he waited, and no one came to buy, Save the black-eyed rebel, watching from the corner of her eye. “Now who will buy my apples?” he shouted, long and loud; And “Who wants m y potatoes?” he repeated to the crowd; But from all the people round him came no word of a repl y, Save the black-eyed rebel, answerin g from the corner of her eye. For she knew that ‘neath the lining of the coat he wore that day, Were long letters from the husbands and the fathers far away. Who were fighting for the freedom that they meant to gain or die; And a tear like silver glistene d in the corner of her eye. But the treasures – how to get them? crept the question through her mind, Since keen enemies were watching for what prizes they might find; And she paused a while and pondered, with a prett y little sigh; Then resolve crept through her features, and a shrewdness fired her eye. So she resolutel y walked up to the wagon old and red; “May I have a dozen apples for a kiss?” she sweetl y said: And the brown face flushed to scarlet; for the boy was somewhat shy. And he saw her laughing at him from the corner of her eye. “You may have them all for nothing, and more, if you want,” quoth he. “I will have them, my good fellow but can pay for them,” said she; And she clambered on the wagon, minding not who all were by. With a laugh of rec kless romping in the corner of her eye. Clinging round his brawny neck, she clasped her fingers white and small, And then whispered, “Quick! the letters! thrust them underneath m y shawl! Carry back again this package, and be sure that you are spry!” And she sweetl y smiled upon him from the corner of her eye. Loud the motley crowd were laughing at the strange, ungirlish freak And the boy was scared and panting, and so dashed he could not speak; And, “Miss, I have good apples,: a bolder lad did cry; But she answered, “No, I thank you,” from the corner of her eye. With the news of loved ones absent to the dear friends they would greet, Searching them who hungered for them, swift she glided through the street. “There is nothing worth the doing that it does no t pay to try.” Thought the little black -eyed rebel, with a twinkle in her eye. . The Turtle and Flamingo by James Thomas Fields A lively young turtle lived down by the banks Of a dark rolling steam called the Jingo; And one summer day, as he went out to play, Fell in love with a charming flamingo— An enormously genteel flamingo! An expansively crimson flamingo! A beautiful, bouncing flamingo! Spake the turtle, in tones like a delicate wheeze: “To the water I’ve off seen you in go, And your form has impressed itself, deep on my shell, You perfectly modeled flamingo! You tremendously A-1 flamingo! You in-exprees-i-ble-flamingo!” “To be sure, I’m a turtle, and you are a belle, And my language is not your fine lingo; But smile on me, tall one, and be my bright flame, You miraculous, wondrous flamingo! You blazing beauteous flamingo! You turtle-absorbing flamingo! You inflammably gorgeous flamingo!” Then the proud bird blushed redder than ever before, And that was quite un-nec-es-sa-ry, And she stood on one leg and looked out of one eye, The position of things for to vary--This aquatically, musing flamingo! This dreamy, uncertain flamingo! This embarrassing, harassing flamingo! The she cried to the quadruped, greatly amazed: Why your passion toward me do you hurtle? I’m an omithological wonder of grace, And you’re an illogical turtle,--A waddling, impossible turtle! A highly improbable turtle!” Then the turtle sneaked off with his nose to the ground And never more looked at the lasses; And falling asleep, while indulging his grief, Was gobbled up whole by Agassiz,--The peripatetic Agassiz! The turtle – dissecting Aggassiz! The illustrious, industrious Agassiz! Go with me to Cambridge some cool, pleasant day And the skeleton lover I’ll show you; He’s in a hard case, but he’ll look in your face, Pretending ( the rogue!) he don’t know you! Oh, the deeply deceptive young turtle! The double-faced glassy-cased turtle! The green but a very mock turtle!

Shared Reading - Collier County Public Schools

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