Stepping Stones to Literature: A Fourth Reader

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Silver, Burdett, 1897 - Readers - 320 pages
 

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Page 75 - He was chubby and plump ; a right jolly old elf; And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings ; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle , But I heard him exclaim,...
Page 74 - He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
Page 45 - and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!" A tear stood in his bright blue eye, But still he answered, with a sigh, Excelsior! "Beware the pine-tree's withered branch! "Beware the awful avalanche!
Page 44 - The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior...
Page 223 - With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace; From my heart I give thee joy, — I was once a barefoot boy!
Page 224 - For, eschewing books and tasks, Nature answers all he asks; Hand in hand with her he walks, Face to face with her he talks, Part and parcel of her joy, — Blessings on the barefoot boy!
Page 215 - When all the world is young, lad, And all the trees are green ; And every goose a swan, lad, And every lass a queen ; Then hey for boot and horse, lad, And round the world away ; Young blood must have its course, lad. And every dog his day.
Page 223 - Of the wild-flower's time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood ; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, And the ground mole sinks his well ; How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung...
Page 242 - But the Kitten, how she starts, Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts! First at one, and then its fellow, Just as light and just as yellow; There are many now — now one — Now they stop and there are none: What intenseness of desire In her upward eye of fire! With a tiger-leap...
Page 226 - Cheerily, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can ! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew ; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat : All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Loose the freedom of the sod.

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