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asked baby began better birds bright brown called chickens Childe coming covered cried dear doll Dolly door eggs eyes F. T. Merrill face father feet fond Francis gave give glad goat grow hand happy hard head heard hold horse Indians Jennie Jessie keep kind kitten knew laughed leaves little boy little girl lived looked mamma MARY Miss morning mother mouse mouth nest never nice night once papa pear play poor pretty ride round seemed sing sleep soft soon spoon stand summer sure sweet tell things thought tired told Tommy took town tree tried turned walk wanted warm watch wings wished wonder woods
Стр. 319 - 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.
Стр. 137 - but I thank you very much for helping me out of the mire. And I am sorry I sent you away from the gate.' 'The next time I come perhaps you will treat me better,' said the boy. ' I am not rich, but I am stronger than you are, and I think I have better manners.
Стр. 135 - Tom was playing in the yard he saw a boy standing by the gate. He was ragged and dirty, his hat was torn, and his feet were bare. But he had a pleasant face. In one hand he carried a pail half full of blackberries. " Go away from here," said Tom, running to the gate. " We are rich, and we don't want ragged boys around." " Please give me a drink,
Стр. 319 - Hey, diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon!
Стр. 147 - I'm good for that ;" He slowly shook his empty hat. "She'll think 'tis full of corn," said he; " Stand back, and she will come to me." Her head the shy, proud creature raised As 'mid the daisy flowers she grazed ; Then down the hill, across the brook, Delaying oft, her way she took; Then changed her pace, and, moving quick, She hurried on, and came to Dick. "Ha! ha!
Стр. 137 - but I thank you very much for helping me out of the mire. And I am sorry I sent you away from the gate." "The next time I come, perhaps you will treat me better,
Стр. 148 - And when beneath a tree she stopped, And leisurely some clover cropped, Dick followed after, but in vain ; His hand was just upon her mane, When off she flew as flies the wind, And, panting, he pressed on behind. Down through the brake, the brook across. O'er bushes, thistles, mounds of moss, Round and around the place they passed, Till breathless Dick sank down at last ; Threw by, provoked, his empty hat, — " The colt," he said,