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Showing: 1-10 results of 12

THE MAN IN THE MOON. THE Man in the MoonCame tumbling down,And asked his way to Norwich;   They told him south,And he burnt his mouthWith eating cold pease-porridge.   TO MARKET, TO MARKET. TO market, to market, to buy a fat Pig;Home again, home again, dancing a jig.   To market, to market, to buy a fat Hog;Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.       THERE WAS A MAN. There was a man, and... more...


LITTLE BO-PEEP. Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,And can’t tell where to find them;Leave them alone, and they’ll come home,And bring their tails behind them. Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,And dreamt she heard them bleating;But when she awoke, she found it a joke,For they were still a-fleeting. Then up she took her little crook,Determined for to find them;She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,For they’d left... more...

Among the four hundred human beings who peopled our parish there were two notable men and one highly gifted woman. All three are dead, and lie buried in the churchyard of the village where they lived. Their graves form a group—unsung by any poet, but worthy to be counted among the resting-places of the mighty. The woman was Mrs. Abel, the Rector's wife. None of us knew her origin—I doubt if she knew it herself: beyond her husband and... more...

'WHAT A LOT OF BOYS!' It was before the days of sailor suits and knickerbockers. Nowadays boys would make great fun of the quaint little men in tight-fitting jackets, and trousers buttoning on above them, that many people still living can remember well, for it is not so very long ago after all. And whatever the difference in their clothes, the boys of then were in themselves very like the boys of now—queer, merry, thoughtless fellows for... more...


WINDY GAP My name is Helena, and I am fourteen past. I have two other Christian names; one of them is rather queer. It is 'Naomi.' I don't mind having it, as I am never called by it, but I don't sign it often because it is such an odd name. My third name is not uncommon. It is just 'Charlotte.' So my whole name is 'Helena Charlotte Naomi Wingfield.' I have never been called by any short name, like 'Lena,' or 'Nellie.' I think the reason must be... more...

Penelope’s Plan. Penelope Hawthorne sat in the school-room window-seat at Easney Vicarage, one afternoon, looking very gravely out at the garden. She had sat there for some time, with her hands in her lap and a little troubled frown on her forehead, and anyone who knew her well would have guessed at once that she was thinking over a “plan.” Penelope was just thirteen years old, the eldest of the Hawthorne children, and as she... more...

OURSELVES I'm Jack. I've always been Jack, ever since I can remember at least, though I suppose I must have been called 'Baby' for a bit before Serena came. But she's only a year and a half younger than me, and Maud's only a year and a quarter behind her, so I can scarcely remember even Serena being 'Baby'; and Maud's always been so very grown up for her age that you couldn't fancy her anything but 'Maud.' My real name isn't John though, as you... more...

There was once a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was called the Simpleton. He was laughed at and despised and neglected on all occasions. Now it happened one day that the eldest son wanted to go into the forest, to hew wood, and his Mother gave him a beautiful cake and a bottle of wine to take with him, so that he might not suffer from hunger or thirst. When he came to the wood he met a little old grey man, who, bidding him good-day,... more...

THE STORY OF THE THREE LITTLE PIGS. Once upon a time there was an old Sow with three little Pigs, and as she had not enough to keep them, she sent them out to seek their fortune.     The first that went off met a Man with a bundle of straw, and said to him, "Please, Man, give me that straw to build me a house"; which the Man did, and the little Pig built a house with it. Presently came along a Wolf, and knocked at the door,... more...