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Showing: 11-20 results of 897

The Maid of Tamalpais. This she told me in the firelightAs I sat beside her campfire,In a grove of giant redwoods,On the slope of Tamalpais.Old she was, and bent and wrinkled,Lone survivor of the Tamals,Ancient tribe of Indian people,Who have left their name and legendOn the mountain they held sacred.On the ground she sat and brooded,With a blanket wrapped around her—Sat and gazed into the campfire.On her bronze and furrowed features,On... more...

upon a time I visited Fairy-land and spent a day in Goblin-town. The people there are much like ourselves, only they are very, very small and roguish. They play pranks on one another and have great fun. They are good natured and jolly, and rarely get angry. But if one does get angry, he quickly recovers his good nature and joins again in the sport.If a Goblin should continue angry he would take on some visible form. Perhaps he would become a... more...

INTRODUCTION. Early in the present century John Harris—one of the successors to the business of "Honest John Newbery," now carried on by Messrs Griffith & Farran at the old corner of St. Paul's Churchyard—began the publication of a series of little books, which for many years were probably among the most famous of the productions of the House. Now, however, according to the fate which usually overtakes books for children, nearly... more...

THE SHADOW SHOW   Trains with wheels and clouds of smoke,Funny crowds of dodging folk,Trams that run along with sparks,Sofa games and pillow larks,Grubs and ponies, worms and tigers,Sparrows on the tree,Oh!What a lot of lots of thingsFor little boys to see! Aeroplanes and paper darts,Woodmen driving broken carts,Minahs on the chimney tops,Swallows dodging near the shops,Barking pups that make the postmanFall down off his bike;Oh!What a... more...

THERE was once a little Brownie, who lived—where do you think he lived? in a coal-cellar. Now a coal-cellar may seem a most curious place to choose to live in; but then a Brownie is a curious creature—a fairy, and yet not one of that sort of fairies who fly about on gossamer wings, and dance in the moonlight, and so on. He never dances; and as to wings, what use would they be to him in a coal-cellar? He is a sober, stay-at-home,... more...


by Unknown
RUFUS MERRILL.   I love the flowers, the fragrant flowers!They’re fairy things to me;They seem like angels sent to bless,And teach of purity. MY FLOWER-POT.   FLOWERS. There is beauty in flowersWhen kissed by the showersThat fall in the bowersOf gardens so fair,When music is tellingIn notes that are swelling,And love is excelling,Aloft in the air.   Birds now are singing,Deep valleys are ringing,And harmony... more...

MY FIRST ALPHABET A a B b Ark Baby C c D d Cat Dog   E e F f Ear Fan G g H h Gate House   I i K k Inn Key L l M m Loaf Man   N n O o Nut Owl P p Q q Pan Queen   R r S s Rat Sea T t U u Tart Urn   V v W w Vine Wall Y y Z z Yew Zebra   THE LITTLE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE. Once on a time... 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...

LIFE OF KEATS Of all the great poets of the early nineteenth century—Wordsworth, Coleridge, Scott, Byron, Shelley, Keats—John Keats was the last born and the first to die. The length of his life was not one-third that of Wordsworth, who was born twenty-five years before him and outlived him by twenty-nine. Yet before his tragic death at twenty-six Keats had produced a body of poetry of such extraordinary power and promise that the... more...

by Unknown
PRICE SIXPENCE.   Oh! on this green and mossy seat, In my hours of sweet retreat; Thus I would my soul employ, With sense of gratitude and joy.   ! farewell! the trumpet calls,The banner waves in view;And I must bid these friendly halls,One long! one last adieu!   The dappled herd of grazing deer,That seek the shades by day;Now started from their path with fear,To give the stranger way.... more...