Number Stories

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Ginn, 1888 - Всего страниц: 166

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Стр. 1 - THERE'S no dew left on the daisies and clover, There's, no rain left in heaven : I've said my " seven times" over and over, Seven times one are seven. I am old, so old, I can write a letter ; My birthday lessons are done ; The lambs play always, they know no better ; They are only one times one.
Стр. 57 - One, two, Buckle my shoe; Three, four, Shut the door; Five, six, Pick up sticks; Seven, eight, Lay them straight; Nine, ten, A good fat hen; Eleven, twelve, Who will delve?
Стр. 157 - Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever.
Стр. 147 - WE are but minutes, little things, — Each one furnished with sixty wings, With which we fly on our unseen track ; And not a minute ever comes back.
Стр. 106 - Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November ; All the rest have thirty-one, Except the second month alone, Which has but twenty-eight, in fine, Till leap year gives it twenty-nine.
Стр. 86 - Master Bullfrog, grave and stern, Called the classes in their turn ; Taught them how to nobly strive, Likewise how to leap and dive; From his seat upon the log, Showed them how to say " Ker-chog ! " Also how to dodge a blow From the sticks that bad boys throw.
Стр. 86 - Twenty froggies went to school Down beside a rushy pool, — Twenty little coats of green ; Twenty vests, all white and clean.
Стр. 9 - Dear little bare feet, Dimpled and white, In your long night-gown Wrapped for the night; Come let me count All your queer little toes, Pink as the heart Of a shell or a rose. One is a lady. That sits in the sun; Two is a baby, And three is a nun; '] Four is a lily, With innocent breast; And five is a birdie, Asleep in her nest!
Стр. 139 - For what is Time ? The shadow on the dial, the striking of the clock, the running of the sand, day and night, summer and winter, months, years, centuries — these are but arbitrary and outward signs, the measure of Time, not Time itself. Time is the Life of the soul.

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