The Haliburton First Reader

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D. C. Heath, 1912 - 142 páginas
Stories grouped around seven themes: With the children and the birds; In summer time; Fun for rainy days; At sunset; In the fall woods; Winter days and nights; The year's at the spring. Each group contains selections from English and American authors.
 

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Página 121 - WHO HAS SEEN THE WIND? Who has seen the wind ? Neither I nor you ; But when the leaves hang trembling The wind is passing through. Who has seen the wind ? Neither you nor I ; But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by.
Página 115 - HEAP on more wood ! — the wind is chill ; But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
Página 111 - I," said the Sparrow, "With my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin." Who saw him die? "I," said the Fly, "With my little eye, I saw him die.
Página 68 - Star light, star bright, First star I seen tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might Have the wish I wish tonight.
Página 63 - Cock a doodle doo, What is my dame to do ? Till master finds his fiddling stick She'll dance without her shoe. Cock a doodle doo, My dame has found her shoe, And master's found his fiddling stick, Sing doodle doodle doo. Cock a doodle doo, My dame will dance with you, While master fiddles his fiddling stick, For dame and doodle doo.
Página 50 - Oh! mother, dear, we very much fear That we have lost our mittens. Lost your mittens ! you naughty kittens ! Then you shall have no pie.
Página 43 - Hark! Hark/ The dogs do bark. The beggars are coming to town. Some in rags, Some in tags, And some in velvet gowns.
Página 63 - And master's lost his fiddling stick, And don't know what to do. Cock a doodle doo, What is my dame to do ? Till master finds his fiddling stick She'll dance without her shoe. Cock a doodle doo, My dame has found her shoe, And master's found his fiddling stick, Sing doodle doodle doo.
Página 72 - You run on so fast ! I wish you would stay : My boat and my flowers You will carry away.
Página 13 - The alder by the river Shakes out her powdery curls ; The willow buds in silver For little boys and girls. The little birds fly over, And oh, how sweet they sing ! To tell the happy children That once again 'tis spring.

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