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Showing: 61-70 results of 192

I CUFFY WAKES UP Far up on the side of Blue Mountain lived Cuffy Bear with his father and mother and his little sister Silkie. Mr. Bear's house was quite the finest for many miles around. It was what people call a cave, being made entirely of stone, and so there was no danger of its ever catching fire; and since it was built straight into the side of the mountain the roof was so very, very thick that Cuffy's father never had to worry for fear a... more...

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 had dug himself a hole in the... more...

SOMEBODY IS EXPECTED On May Day the feathered folk in Pleasant Valley began to stop, look and listen. They were expecting somebody. "Have you seen him?" Rusty Wren asked Jolly Robin. Jolly Robin said that he hadn't; but he added that he was on the lookout. "Have you heard his song?" little Mr. Chippy inquired eagerly of Mr. Blackbird. "No!" that dusky rascal replied. "Not yet! Maybe he isn't coming here this summer." Mr. Blackbird liked to... more...

THE HOUSE IN THE PASTURE One day, when Johnnie Green tramped over the fields toward the woods, he did not dream that he walked right over somebody’s bedroom. The snow was deep, for it was midwinter. And as Johnnie crossed his father’s pasture he thought only of the fresh rabbit tracks that he saw all about him. He had no way of knowing that beneath the three feet of snow, and as much further below the top of the ground too, there was... more...

BEAUTY AND THE BLOSSOMS Every one of the field people in Pleasant Valley, and the forest folk as well, was different from his neighbors. For instance, there was Jasper Jay. He was the noisiest chap for miles around. And there was Peter Mink. Without doubt he was the rudest and most rascally fellow in the whole district. Then there was Freddie Firefly, who was the brightest youngster on the farm—at least after dark, when his light flashed... more...


A GREAT DIGGER Of course, Benny Badger had the best of reasons for living on the high, dry plains. There he had for neighbors plenty of ground squirrels and prairie dogs. And it is likely that he enjoyed their company much more than they did his. If anyone had asked them, those little wild people would no doubt have confessed that they wished Benny Badger was somewhere else. But their wishes meant nothing to Benny—if he knew anything of... more...

FOR THE CHILDREN OF SAWREY FROM OLD MR. BUNNY   One morning a little rabbit sat on a bank. He pricked his ears and listened to the trit-trot, trit-trot of a pony. A gig was coming along the road; it was driven by Mr. McGregor, and beside him sat Mrs. McGregor in her best bonnet.   As soon as they had passed, little Benjamin Bunny slid down into the road, and set off—with a hop, skip, and a jump—to call upon his... more...

THE STORY OF MISS MOPPET   This is a Pussy called Miss Moppet, she thinks she has heard a mouse! This is the Mouse peeping out behind the cupboard, and making fun of Miss Moppet. He is not afraid of a kitten.     This is Miss Moppet jumping just too late; she misses the Mouse and hits her own head. She thinks it is a very hard cupboard!     The Mouse watches Miss Moppet from the top of the cupboard. Miss Moppet... more...

The Story of Little Black Mingo. Once upon a time there was a little black girl, and her name was Little Black Mingo. She had no father and mother, so she had to live with a horrid cross old woman called Black Noggy, who used to scold her every day, and sometimes beat her with a stick, even though she had done nothing naughty. One day Black Noggy called her, and said, "Take this chatty down to the river and fill it with water,... more...

There are some of us now reaching middle age who discover themselves to be lamenting the past in one respect if in none other, that there are no books written now for children comparable with those of thirty years ago. I say written FOR children because the new psychological business of writing ABOUT them as though they were small pills or hatched in some especially scientific method is extremely popular today. Writing for children rather than... more...