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So hop a-bout pret-ty, and put down your wing, And pick up the crumbs and don't mind me. Cold win-ter is come, but it will not last long, And sum-mer we soon shall be greet-ing; Then re-mem-ber, sweet Rob-in, to sing me a song

To pay for the break-fast you're eat-ing.




hail re-fresh flee-cy in-sects flit float clouds showers ice

God made the air that sur-rounds land and sea.

He filled it with the but-ter-flies and all the pret-ty in-sects that flit a-bout in the sun buzz-ing and hum-ming.

He made the flee-cy white clouds that float a-bout in it, or rest on the mountain tops.

He made the rain that falls in refresh-ing show-ers, the ice, the snow, and the hail.


Ride, ba-by, ride,

Pret-ty ba-by shall ride,



And have lit-tle pup-py dog tied to her side,

And lit-tle puss-y-cat tied to the other, And a-way she shall ride to see her grand-moth-er.

The Rob-in vis-its us in cold weath-er, when we feed him with ( ). Queer places() chooses for his nest-such ) and a water-ing (), and even a shelf be-hind the church ( ).

as a (


Bil-ly But-ton, fond of mut-ton,
And of ap-ple-pie,
Asks for more, gets no more,
So be-gins to cry.

Bel-la sees him, broth-ers tease him,
Then he blush-es red,

Feels so queer, drops a tear,

Then he hangs his head.
Bil-ly lin-gers still, his fin-gers

Long to reach the pie,

For an-oth-er bit; his moth-er
Sees him sli-ly try;

Raps on knuc-kle, broth-ers chuc-kle:
Bil-ly asks no more,

Turns away, far from gay,

Mak-ing for the door.

Now, this les-son to im-press on
Ev-er-y greed-y boy

Gives much pain, but then, a-gain,
It leads, we know, to joy.


Who can love greed-y chil-dren?
How can they ever feel hap-py?
Bil-ly was pun-ished for being greed-y.

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The Gull is not like the birds we see in the woods and a-mong the hedg-es. He lives at sea, and on-ly seeks the land

when a storm is near. You can see flocks of these birds feed-ing on the ground, ap-pear-ing like specks of white a-mong the black crows. The farm-er is glad to see them, for they pick up the worms and grubs that hurt his seeds.

But the Gull likes best to float on the heav-ing wave, and shake the spray from his white wings. He swims well, for his feet are like those of the duck. Between the toes is a thin web of skin. The fish-er-man meets the Gulls far out at sea, where they fly round and round his boat, or skim the crest of the waves. He knows that where the Gulls are he will get plenty of fish-es, for they live on fish-es.

The Gull makes his nest on the rocks by the shore, and there rears his young ones, feed-ing them with the fish he catch-es in the pools on the sea-beach.

Robin Redbreast and
Jenny Wren.


mer-ri-ly gal-lant heart

cher-ry pret-ti-ly cur-rant ap-point re-quest-ing


Once up-on a time, when Jen-ny Wren was young,

So pret-ti-ly she danced, and so mer-ri-ly she sung,

Rob-in Red-breast lost his heart, for he was a gal-lant bird,

So he doffed his hat to Jen-ny Wren re-quest-ing to be heard.

"Oh, dear-est Jen-ny Wren, if you will but be mine,

You shall dine on cher-ry pie, you shall, and drink new cur-rant wine;

I'll dress you like a gold-finch or any pea-cock gay,

So, dear-est Jen, if you'll be mine, let us ap-point the day."

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