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animals answered appeared asked Bear Beast beautiful became began better bird bring brother brought called carried castle child coming cried daughter dear door dream eyes fairies father fell field fire followed forest gave giant girl give gold golden gone grew hand happened happy head heard heart horse hunter Jack Joseph killed king king's knew lady land leave lion lived looked maiden master morning mother never night once opened pieces poor prince princess reached replied rest returned round seen sent side sisters sleep soon stood story tell things thought told took town tree turned voice wait whole wife wish wolf woman wonderful wood young
Page 348 - You elegant fowl, How charmingly sweet you sing! Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried: But what shall we do for a ring?
Page 347 - THE Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat: They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The' Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, "O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are!
Page 417 - He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. "My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The Reaper said, and smiled; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where He was once a child.
Page 412 - They stole little Bridget For seven years long; When she came down again Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back, Between the night and morrow; They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow.
Page 32 - OLD Mother Hubbard Went to the cupboard, To get her poor dog a bone: But when she got there The cupboard was bare, And so the poor dog had none.
Page 60 - Old King Cole Was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he: He called for his pipe, And he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three.
Page 150 - What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day ? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger.
Page 26 - Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing; Was not that a dainty dish To set before the king?
Page 411 - Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men. Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather! Down along the rocky shore Some make their home — They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam ; Some in the reeds Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake.