The Royal readers. (Roy. sch. ser.). Ser.3. No.1,2 [2 eds.], 4 |
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Common terms and phrases
an-i-mal asked baby Band of Hope Bennie Jones berries BIRTH-DAY TREE BREAD COMES bright cage called canary car-ried cheep cloth clucking hen coat cold COMMON WORDS crumbs CURRANTS Dicky dried drive farmer father Figs flour flowers fond Frank Fred Freddie friends garden George girls goat grains grass green field happy happy days hive horse jump kind kitten little bird little boy LITTLE HAY-MAKER little lamb live long cold winter look loving Mary milk mother mouse nest nice noise north wind doth OYSTER TRAP PET BIRD play pond pony Poor thing pretty verses rabbits RAISINS robin sails sands Scotland seeds shawls sheaves sheep sing sister slate snow sometimes song spade stalks star summer swallows sweet tail taught teeth to-geth-er tune uncle warm wheat wind doth blow window winter WOODEN SHOE wool
Popular passages
Page 58 - THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW he north wind doth blow, And we shall have snow, And what will poor Robin do then, Poor thing? He'll sit in a barn, And keep himself warm, And hide his head under his wing, Poor thing.
Page 85 - When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. Then the traveler in the dark, Thanks you for your tiny spark : He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so. In the dark blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye . Till the sun is in the sky. As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveller in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
Page 85 - TWINKLE, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are ! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky. When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. Then the traveller in the dark, Thanks you for your tiny spark : He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so.
Page 67 - Lazy sheep, pray tell me why In the pleasant field you lie, Eating grass and daisies white, From the morning till the night : Everything can something do ; But what kind of use are you...
Page 26 - My little chicks will soon be hatched, I'll think about it then." The clucking hen sat on her nest, She made it in the hay; And warm and snug beneath her breast A dozen white eggs lay. Crack, crack, went all the eggs; Out dropped the chickens small! "Cluck," said the clucking hen, "Now I have you all. "Come along my little chicks, I'll take a walk with you
Page 67 - True, it seems a pleasant thing Nipping daisies in the spring; But what chilly nights I pass On the cold and dewy grass, Or pick my scanty dinner where All the ground is brown and bare ! Then the farmer comes at last, When the merry spring is past, Cuts my woolly fleece away, For your coat in wintry day. Little master, this is why In the pleasant fields I lie.
Page 69 - ... water. They sang about the little brooks, and they sang about the great river. They told how the rain falls down from the clouds to fill the flower cups and the birds' bathing places. " There is nothing so good as water to drink," they all sang. "There is nothing so good for girls, or boys, or birds." Each flower holds up A dainty cup To catch the rain and dew. The drink of flowers, That comes in showers, Is just the drink for you.
Page 16 - And he is silent now. The bee is hushed within the hive ; Shut is. the daisy's eye ; The stars alone are peeping forth From out the darkened sky. No, not the stars alone ; for God Has heard what I have said ; His eye looks on His little child, Kneeling beside its bed. He kindly hears me thank Him now For all that he Has given, For friends, and books, and clothes and food ; But most of all for Heaven— Where I shall go when I am dead, If truly I do right ; Where I shall meet all those I IOTB As angels...
Page 16 - THE day is gone, the night is come, The night for quiet rest : And every little bird has flown Home to its downy nest. The robin was the last to go ; Upon the leafless bough He sang his evening hymn to God, And he is silent now.
Page 87 - ... he would sit on his perch with all his feathers stuck out like a frill, and his head on one side, looking very cross. George, with great patience, would go through the tune over and over again. At the end Dicky would give a sort of little grunting chirp, as much as to say, Ah ! — and that was all. At other times he would not listen at all, but would sing his own song, sweet enough to be sure, but not the one they wanted. "He will never know it...