Animals Books

THE FIDDLER If Chirpy Cricket had begun to make music earlier in the summer perhaps he wouldn’t have given so much time to fiddling in Farmer Green’s farmyard. Everybody admitted that Chirpy was the most musical insect in the whole neighborhood. And it seemed as if he tried his hardest to crowd as much music as possible into a few weeks, though he had been silent enough during all the spring. He... more...

CHAPTER I. SIR BEVIS. One morning as little "Sir" Bevis [such was his pet name] was digging in the farmhouse garden, he saw a daisy, and throwing aside his spade, he sat down on the grass to pick the flower to pieces. He pulled the pink-tipped petals off one by one, and as they dropped they were lost. Next he gathered a bright dandelion, and squeezed the white juice from the hollow stem, which... more...

CHAPTER THE FIRST. hree birds of very favourable repute in these regions met together one evening—a Thrush, a Lark, and a Nightingale. And all for what purpose, think you? It was a queer one—to hold a solemn conference about a Dewdrop! Yes, it must be allowed it was an original thought which brought these three feathered friends thus into council; and a pretty talk to be sure they had about it.... more...

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ONCE upon a time, when it was early summer in the Big Deep Woods, the Hollow Tree people and Jack Rabbit went over to spend the day with Mr. Turtle, who lives in a very nice stone house which he built himself on the edge of the Wide Blue Water. Mr. Turtle fishes a good deal, and makes most of his living that way, and knows all the best places, so when his friends came he said that perhaps they would... more...

illy Whiskers, Stubby and Button sailed by the Goddess of Liberty and entered New York harbor after being in France ever since our troops entered the War. They had gone over on one of the troop ships and it just so happened that they returned on the same ship and with the same Captain and crew. They were returning home covered with scars and wounds received while performing acts of bravery, but what... more...

Chapter I. THE GRAY DOG THE sun stared brazenly down on a gray farmhouse lying, long and low in the shadow of the Muir Pike; on the ruins of peel-tower and barmkyn, relics of the time of raids, it looked; on ranges of whitewashed outbuildings; on a goodly array of dark-thatched ricks. In the stack-yard, behind the lengthy range of stables, two men were thatching. One lay sprawling on the crest of the... more...

THE CAR stopped and a shaggy little dog named Rags was pushed into the street. Rags' owner was very angry. "That's the last slipper of mine that you'll chew up!" he said, and sped away. Rags stood in the street. "So that was it," he thought. "But he had so many slippers in his closet, how was I to know he'd mind if I just chewed a few?" The street was wide... more...

CHAPTER I MY EARLY HOME he first place that I can well remember was a pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master's house, which stood by the roadside. While I was young I lived upon my mother's milk, as I could not eat grass. In the daytime I ran by her side, and at night I... more...

I A SLIM RASCAL Old Mr. Crow often remarked that if Grumpy Weasel really wanted to be of some use in the world he would spend his time at the sawmill filling knot holes in boards. "He's so slender," Mr. Crow would say, "that he can push himself into a knot hole no bigger round than Farmer Green's thumb." Naturally it did not please old Mr. Crow when Solomon Owl went out of his... more...