The British JuvenileJ. Caudwell, 1879 - Children's literature, English |
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Page 25
... cried in his joy , " and beats that old wooden thing hollow . " The time for the beginning of the race was three o'clock , and it was now two , so he had plenty of time . Not able to repress his enthu- siasm , he again ran forward ...
... cried in his joy , " and beats that old wooden thing hollow . " The time for the beginning of the race was three o'clock , and it was now two , so he had plenty of time . Not able to repress his enthu- siasm , he again ran forward ...
Page 27
... cried . 66 ' It's very naughty to keep me waiting ; we shall be late , " Mark said , frowning . Mark did not remember that he was only pleas- ing himself , and not trying to be good . He was cross and forgetful - all for pride . " Oh ...
... cried . 66 ' It's very naughty to keep me waiting ; we shall be late , " Mark said , frowning . Mark did not remember that he was only pleas- ing himself , and not trying to be good . He was cross and forgetful - all for pride . " Oh ...
Page 28
... cried aloud from the door . Why , little Tots , are you here ? " said Mr. Isaacs ; " why , you look pale . Come in and sit down . ' 66 " 9 Oh , no , sir , please , " said Tots . He knew Mark wished to get home with the pattens as fast ...
... cried aloud from the door . Why , little Tots , are you here ? " said Mr. Isaacs ; " why , you look pale . Come in and sit down . ' 66 " 9 Oh , no , sir , please , " said Tots . He knew Mark wished to get home with the pattens as fast ...
Page 37
... cried ever on , And forced us soon to part . Thus one by one youth's blossoms fell Before Time's blighting frost , And memory only lingers now To mourn o'er what I've lost . Oh ! golden moments that have passed , What joys were in your ...
... cried ever on , And forced us soon to part . Thus one by one youth's blossoms fell Before Time's blighting frost , And memory only lingers now To mourn o'er what I've lost . Oh ! golden moments that have passed , What joys were in your ...
Page 41
... cried in vain for help . At this ridiculous juncture the coat gave way , and each dog proudly swam off with a piece of cloth in his mouth . What the half - drowned Frenchman thought about the wisdom of dogs by this time can only be ...
... cried in vain for help . At this ridiculous juncture the coat gave way , and each dog proudly swam off with a piece of cloth in his mouth . What the half - drowned Frenchman thought about the wisdom of dogs by this time can only be ...
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Common terms and phrases
ACROSTIC answered Arthur asked Aunt beautiful BRITISH JUVENILE BRITISH WORKWOMAN brother called chamois Channel Islands child cotton cowslips cried dear Dermy Dick Ruthven Donald door eyes face father felt flowers Freddy friends garden Gelert give grandmother hand happy Harry head heard heart Heywood hoop kind knew lady laughed little boy little girl little red hen lived look Maggie Magsie Margery Mark master Merriton Miles Coverdale mind Minnie Miss Haddon morning mother never night nosegay old oaken bucket once Orkney Isles pleasant poor pretty replied Robert round seemed Sibyl sight Silverbell sister smile soon Steve sure sweet tears tell things thought told took Tots tree Tuffy United Kingdom voice walk Willie window Winnie wish wonder WORD SQUARES words young
Popular passages
Page 102 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was.
Page 101 - Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hover'd thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, Wretch even then, life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gavest me, though unfelt, a kiss ; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss — Ah, that maternal smile ! it answers — Yes.
Page 179 - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure, For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell, Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well ! The old oaken bucket,...
Page 179 - How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew! The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it, The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell, The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well — The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
Page 101 - With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!
Page 54 - Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream Upon the silver lake or crystal stream; But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth...
Page 102 - I pricked them into paper with a pin, (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head and smile.) Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here?
Page 102 - I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine ; And, while the wings of fancy still are free, And I can view this mimic show of thee, Time has but half succeeded in his theft — Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left.
Page 67 - And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men ; for thus sings he, Cuckoo ; Cuckoo, cuckoo...
Page 69 - And thus, dear children, have ye made for me This day a jubilee, And to my more than three-score years and ten Brought back my youth again. The heart hath its own memory, like the mind, And in it are enshrined The precious keepsakes, into which is wrought The giver's loving thought.