The underbrush was very thick and the thorns caught in his clothing and held him back, but with the aid of his sharp little axe he overcame all difficulties and presently reached a place where the wood was more open. He paused here, for often he had been told by Grandpa Horner that there were treacherous bogs in this part of the wood, which were so covered with mosses and ferns that the ground seemed solid enough to walk upon.
But woe to the unlucky traveler who stepped unawares upon their surface; for instantly he found himself caught by the clinging moist clay, to sink farther and farther into the bog until, swallowed up in the mire, he would meet a horrible death beneath its slimy surface. His grandfather had told him never to go near these terrible bogs, and Jack, who was an obedient boy, had always kept away from this part of the wood. But as he paused, again that despairing cry came to his ears, very near to him now, it seemed:. Forgetful of all save a desire to assist this unknown  sufferer, Jack sprang forward with an answering cry, and only halted when he found himself upon the edge of a vast bog.
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He had walked into the bog and sunk into its treacherous depths nearly to his waist, and, although he struggled bravely, his efforts only seemed to draw him farther down toward a frightful death. For a moment, filled with horror and dismay, Jack stood looking at the man.
Then he remembered a story he had once heard of how a man had been saved from the bog. He then ran to a tall sapling that stood near and began chopping away with his axe. The keen blade speedily cut through the young but tough wood, and, then Jack dragged it to the edge of the bog, and, exerting all his strength, pushed it out until the sapling was within reach of the sinking man.
It will keep you from sinking farther into the mire, and when you have gained more strength you may be able to pull yourself out. It was a long and tedious struggle, and often Jack thought the stranger would despair and be unable to drag his body from the firm clutch of the bog; but little by little the man succeeded in drawing himself up by the sapling, and at last he was saved, and sank down exhausted upon the firm ground by Jack's side.
The boy then ran for some water that stood in a slough near by, and with this he bathed the stranger's face and cooled his parched lips. Then he gave him the remains of his bread and cheese, and soon the gentleman became strong enough to walk with Jack's help to the cottage at the edge of the wood. Grandma Horner was greatly surprised to see the strange man approaching, supported by her sturdy little grandson; but she ran to help him, and afterward gave him some old clothing of Grandpa Horner's to replace his own muddy garments.
When the man had fully rested, she brewed him her last bit of tea, and by that time the stranger declared he felt as good as new. I live far away in a big city, and have plenty of money. If you will give Jack to me I will take him home and educate him, and make a great man of him when he grows up. Grandma Horner hesitated, for the boy was very dear to her and the pride of her old age; but Jack spoke up for himself. The stranger said nothing more, but he patted Jack's head kindly, and soon after left them and took the road to the city.
The next morning Jack went to the wood again, and began chopping as bravely as before. And by hard work he cut a great deal of wood, which the wood-carter carried away and sold for him. The pay was not very much, to be sure, but Jack was glad that he was able to earn something to help his grandparents.
And so the days passed rapidly away until it was nearly Christmas time, and now, in spite of Jack's earnings, the money was very low indeed in the broken teapot. One day, just before Christmas, a great wagon drove up to the door of the little cottage, and in it was the stranger Jack had rescued from the bog. The wagon was loaded with a store of good things which would add to the comfort of the aged pair and their grandson, including medicines for grandpa and rare teas for grandma, and a fine suit of clothes for Jack, who was just then away at work in the wood.
When the stranger had brought all these things into the house, he asked to see the old teapot. Trembling with the excitement of their good fortune, Grandma Horner brought out the teapot, and the gentleman drew a bag from beneath his coat and filled the pot to the brim with shining gold pieces. Then he told her his name, and where he lived, so that she might find him if need be, and then he drove away in the empty wagon before Grandma Horner had half finished thanking him. You can imagine how astonished and happy little Jack was when he returned from his work and found all the good things his kind benefactor had brought.
Grandma Horner was herself so delighted that she caught the boy in her arms, and hugged and kissed him, declaring that his brave rescue of the gentleman had brought them all this happiness in their hour of need.
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So I shall make you a Christmas pie, Jack dear, and stuff it full of plums, for you must have your share of our unexpected prosperity. And Grandma Horner was as good as her word, and made a very delicious pie indeed for her darling grandson. The Man in the Moon was rather lonesome, and often he peeked over the edge of the moon and looked down upon the earth and envied all the people who lived together, for he thought it must be vastly more pleasant to have companions to talk to than to be shut up in a big planet all by himself, where he had to whistle to keep himself company.
One day he looked down and saw an alderman sailing up through the air towards him. This alderman was being translated instead of being transported, owing to a misprint in the law and as he came near the Man in the Moon called to him and said,. The words of the alderman made him more anxious than ever to visit the earth, and so he walked thoughtfully home, and put a few lumps of ice in the stove to keep him warm, and sat down to think how he should manage the trip.votelxasyle.gq/2768-un-hombre.php
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You see, everything went by contraries in the Moon, and when the Man wished to keep warm he knocked off a few chunks of ice and put them in his stove; and he cooled his drinking water by throwing red-hot coals of fire into the pitcher. Likewise, when he became chilly he took off his hat and coat, and even his shoes, and so became warm; and in the hot days of summer he put on his overcoat to cool off.
All of which seems very queer to you, no doubt; but it wasn't at all queer to the Man in the Moon, for he was accustomed to it. Well, he sat by his ice-cool fire and thought about his journey to the earth, and finally he decided the only way he could get there was to slide down a moonbeam.
So he left the house and locked the door and put the key in his pocket, for he was uncertain how long he should be gone; and then he went to the edge of  the moon and began to search for a good strong moonbeam. At last he found one that seemed rather substantial and reached right down to a pleasant-looking spot on the earth; and so he swung himself over the edge of the moon, and put both arms tight around the moonbeam and started to slide down. But he found it rather slippery, and in spite of all his efforts to hold on he found himself going faster and faster, so that just before he reached the earth he lost his hold and came tumbling down head over heels and fell plump into a river.
The cool water nearly scalded him before he could swim out, but fortunately he was near the bank and he quickly scrambled upon the land and sat down to catch his breath. By that time it was morning, and as the sun rose its hot rays cooled him off somewhat, so that he began looking about curiously at all the strange sights and wondering where on earth he was. By and by a farmer came along the road by the river with a team of horses drawing a load of hay, and the horses looked so odd to the Man in the Moon that at first he was greatly frightened, never before having seen horses except from his home in the moon, from whence they looked a good deal smaller.
But he plucked up courage and said to the farmer,. I must not call him the Man in the Moon any longer, for of course he was now out of the moon; so I'll simply call him the Man, and you'll know by that which man I mean. Well, the Man in the—I mean the Man but I nearly forgot what I have just said —the Man turned to the south and began walking briskly along the road, for he had made up his mind to do as the alderman had advised and travel to Norwich, that he might eat some of the famous pease porridge that was made there.
And finally, after a long and tiresome journey, he reached the town and stopped at one of the first houses he came to, for by this time he was very hungry indeed. She soon brought him a bowl of cold pease porridge, and the Man was so hungry that he took a big spoonful at once. But no sooner had he put it into his mouth than he uttered a great yell, and began dancing frantically about the room, for of course the porridge that was cold to earth folk was hot to him, and the big spoonful of cold pease porridge had burned his mouth to a blister!
So she tried it and found it very cold and pleasant. But the Man was so astonished to see her eat the porridge that had blistered his own mouth that he became frightened and ran out of the house and down the street as fast as he could go. The policeman on the first corner saw him running, and promptly arrested him, and he was marched off to the magistrate for trial.
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This would surely have been the fate of the Man  had there not been present an old astronomer who had often looked at the moon through his telescope, and so had discovered that what was hot on earth was cold in the moon, and what was cold here was hot there; so he began to think the Man had told the truth. Therefore he begged the magistrate to wait a few minutes while he looked through his telescope to see if the Man in the Moon was there. So, as it was now night, he fetched his telescope and looked at the Moon,—and found there was no man in it at all! Let me look at your mouth, sir, and see if it is really burned.
Then the Man opened his mouth, and everyone saw plainly it was burned to a blister! Thereupon the magistrate begged his pardon for doubting his word, and asked him what he would like to do next. The nights are too hot. We can inflate this balloon and send the Man out of the Moon home in it. So the  balloon was brought and inflated, and the Man got into the basket and gave the word to let go, and then the balloon mounted up into the sky in the direction of the moon.
The good people of Norwich stood on the earth and tipped back their heads, and watched the balloon go higher and higher, until finally the Man reached out and caught hold of the edge of the moon, and behold! After this adventure he was well contented to stay at home; and I've no doubt if you look through a telescope you will see him there to this day. But no one came to the mill unless they brought corn to grind, for the miller was a queer man, and liked to be alone.
When people passed by the mill and saw the miller at his work, they only nodded their heads, for they knew he would not reply if they spoke to him. He was not an old man, nor a sour man, nor a bad man; on the contrary he could be heard singing at his work most of the time. But the words of his song would alone have kept people away from him, for they were always these:. He lived all alone in the mill-house, cooking his own meals and making his own bed, and neither asking nor receiving help from anyone.
It is very certain that if the jolly miller had cared to have friends many would have visited him, since the country people were sociable enough in their way; but it was the miller himself who refused to make friends, and old Farmer Dobson used to say,. It is the fault of the man himself, not the fault of the people! However this may have been, it is true the miller  had no friends, and equally sure that he cared to have none, for it did not make him a bit unhappy. Sometimes, indeed, as he sat at evening in the doorway of the mill and watched the moon rise in the sky, he grew a bit lonely and thoughtful, and found himself longing for some one to love and cherish, for this is the nature of all good men.
But when he realized how his thoughts were straying he began to sing again, and he drove away all such hopeless longings. At last a change came over the miller's life. He was standing one evening beside the river, watching the moonbeams play upon the water, when something came floating down the stream that attracted his attention. For a long time he could not tell what it was, but it looked to him like a big black box; so he got a long pole and reached it out towards the box and managed to draw it within reach just above the big wheel.
It was fortunate he saved it when he did, for in another moment it would have gone over the wheel and been dashed to pieces far below. When the miller had pulled the floating object upon the bank he found it really was a box, the lid being fastened tight with a strong cord. So he lifted it carefully and carried it into the mill-house, and then he placed it upon the floor while he lighted a candle.
Then he cut the cord and opened the box, and behold! The miller was so surprised that he stopped singing and gazed with big eyes at the beautiful face of the little stranger. And while he gazed its eyes opened—two beautiful, pleading blue eyes,—and the little one smiled and stretched out her arms toward him. The baby did not reply, but she tried to, and made some soft little noises that sounded like the cooing of a pigeon. The tiny arms were still stretched upwards, and the miller bent down and tenderly lifted the child from the box and placed her upon his knee, and then he began to stroke the soft, silken ringlets that clustered around her head, and to look upon her wonderingly.
The baby leaned against his breast and fell asleep again, and the miller became greatly troubled, for he was unused to babies and did not know how to handle them or care for them. But he sat very still until the little one awoke, and then, thinking it must be hungry, he brought some sweet milk and fed her with a spoon.
The baby smiled at him and ate the milk as if it liked it, and then one little dimpled hand caught hold of the miller's whiskers and pulled sturdily, while the baby jumped its little body up and down and cooed its delight. Do you think the miller was angry? Not a bit of  it! He smiled back into the laughing face and let her pull his whiskers as much as she liked. For his whole heart had gone out to this little waif that he had rescued from the river, and at last the solitary man had found something to love.
The baby slept that night in the miller's own bed, snugly tucked in beside the miller himself; and in the morning he fed her milk again, and then went out to his work singing more merrily than ever. Every few minutes he would put his head into the room where he had left the child, to see if it wanted anything, and if it cried even the least bit he would run in and take it in his arms and soothe the little girl until she smiled again.
That first day the miller was fearful some one would come and claim the child, but when evening came without the arrival of any stranger he decided the baby had been cast adrift and now belonged to nobody but him. For now that I have found some one to love I could not bear to let her go again. He cared for the waif very tenderly; and as the child was strong and healthy she was not much trouble to him, and to his delight grew bigger day by day.
The country people were filled with surprise when they saw a child in the mill-house, and wondered  where it came from; but the miller would answer no questions, and as year after year passed away they forgot to enquire how the child came there and looked upon her as the miller's own daughter. She grew to be a sweet and pretty child, and was the miller's constant companion. She called him "papa," and he called her Nathalie, because he had found her upon the water, and the country people called her the Maid of the Mill.
The miller worked harder than ever before, for now he had to feed and clothe the little girl; and he sang from morn till night, so joyous was he, and still his song was:. One day, while he was singing this, he heard a sob beside him, and looked down to see Nathalie weeping. The miller was surprised, for he had sung the song so long he had forgotten what the words meant. The years passed by and the miller was very happy.
Nathalie grew to be a sweet and lovely maiden, and she learned to cook the meals and tend the house, and that made it easier for the miller, for now he was growing old. One day the young Squire, who lived at the great house on the hill, came past the mill and saw Nathalie sitting in the doorway, her pretty form framed in the flowers that climbed around and over the door.
And the Squire loved her after that first glance, for he saw that she was as good and innocent as she was beautiful. The miller, hearing the sound of voices, came out and saw them together, and at once he became very angry, for he knew that trouble was in store for him, and he must guard his treasure very carefully if he wished to keep her with him. The young Squire begged very hard to be allowed to pay court to the Maid of the Mill, but the miller ordered him away, and he was forced to go.
Then the miller saw there were tears in Nathalie's eyes, and that made him still more anxious, for he feared the mischief was already done. Indeed, in spite of the miller's watchfulness, the Squire and Nathalie often met and walked together in the shady lanes or upon the green banks of the river.
But tell me, Nathalie, are you willing to leave me? So Nathalie and the Squire were wed, and lived in the great house, and the very day after the wedding she came walking down to the mill in her pretty new gown to see the miller. But as she drew near she heard him singing, as was his wont; and the song he sung she had not heard since she was a little girl, for this was it:. Nathalie loves you yet, and always will while she lives; for my new love is complete in itself, and has not robbed you of one bit of the love that has always been your very own. But I will promise that never again, till you forget me, will I sing that nobody cares for me.
And the miller did learn a new song, and sang it right merrily for many years; for each day Nathalie came down to the mill to show that she had not forgotten him. This little man was very sorry he was not bigger, and if you wanted to make him angry you had but to call attention to his size. He dressed just as big men do, and wore a silk hat and a long-tailed coat when he went to church, and a cap and top-boots when he rode horseback. He walked with a little cane and had a little umbrella made to carry when it rained. In fact, whatever other men did this little man was anxious to do also, and so it happened that when the hunting season came around, and all the men began to get their guns ready to hunt for snipe and duck, Mr.
Jimson also had a little gun made, and determined to use it as well as any of them. But the little man believed he could shoot with the best of them, so the next morning he got up early and took his little gun and started down to the brook to hunt for duck. It was scarcely daybreak when he arrived at the brook, and the sun had not yet peeped over the eastern hill-tops, but no duck appeared anywhere in sight, although Mr. Jimson knew this was the right time of day for shooting them. So he sat down beside the brook and begun watching, and before he knew it he had fallen fast asleep.
The duck belonged to Johnny Sprigg, who lived a little way down the brook, but the little man did not know this. He thought it was a wild duck, so he stood up and carefully took aim. The next minute the little man had tumbled head over heels into the water, and he nearly drowned before he could scramble out again; for, not being used to shooting, the gun had kicked, or recoiled, and had knocked him off the round stone where he had been standing.
When he had succeeded in reaching the bank he was overjoyed to see that he had shot the duck, which lay dead upon the water a short distance away. The little man got a long stick, and, reaching it out, drew the dead duck to the bank. Then he started joyfully homeward to show the prize to his wife.
Do you now think your husband cannot shoot? Can't you go and shoot another? Then we shall have enough for dinner. She started to make the fire, and the little man took his gun and went to the brook; but not a duck  did he see, nor drake neither, and so he was forced to come home without any game. Perhaps you'll be able to shoot a drake to-morrow, and then we'll cook them both together.
So they had pork and beans, to the great disappointment of Mr. Jimson, who had expected to eat duck instead; and after dinner the little man lay down to take a nap while his wife went out to tell the neighbors what a great hunter he was. The news spread rapidly through the town, and when the evening paper came out the little man was very angry to see this verse printed in it:. Brayer, the editor, is probably jealous because he himself cannot shoot a gun.
Perhaps people think I cannot shoot a drake, but I'll show them to-morrow that I can! So the next morning he got up early again, and  took his gun, and loaded it with bullets made of lead. Then he said to his wife,. When he got to the brook there was nothing in sight, so he sat down on the bank to watch, and again fell fast asleep. Now Johnny Sprigg had missed his little duck, and knew some one had shot it; so he thought this morning he would go the brook and watch for the man who had killed the duck, and make him pay a good price for it. Johnny was a big man, whose head was very bald; therefore he wore a red curly wig to cover his baldness and make him look younger.
When he got to the brook he saw no one about, and so he hid in a clump of bushes. After a time the little man woke up, and in looking around for the drake he saw Johnny's red wig sticking out of the top of the bushes. As for his beautiful wig, it was shot right off his head, and fell into the water of the brook a good ten yards away! Are you the man who shot the duck here yesterday morning? Sprigg; "for it belonged to me, and I'll have the money or I'll put you in jail! The little man did not want to go to jail, so with a heavy heart he paid for the wig and the duck, and then took his way sorrowfully homeward.
He did not tell Joan of his meeting with Mr. Sprigg; he only said he could not find a drake. But she knew all about it when the paper came out, for this is what it said on the front page:. The little man was so angry at this, and at the laughter of all the men he met, that he traded his gun off for a lawn-mower, and resolved never to go hunting again. He had the little duck he had shot made into a pie, and he and Joan ate it; but he did not enjoy it very much. There had once been a Papa Mouse as well; but while he was hunting for food one night he saw a nice piece of cheese in a wire box, and attempted to get it.
The minute he stuck his head into the box, however, it closed with a snap that nearly cut his head off, and when Mamma Mouse came down to look for him he was quite dead. Mamma Mouse had to bear her bitter sorrow all alone, for the children were too young at that time to  appreciate their loss. She felt that people were very cruel to kill a poor mouse for wishing to get food for himself and his family.
There is nothing else for a mouse to do but take what he can find, for mice cannot earn money, as people do, and they must live in some way.
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But Mamma Mouse was a brave mouse, and knew that it was now her duty to find food for her little ones; so she dried her eyes and went bravely to work gnawing through the base-board that separated the pantry from the wall. It took her some time to do this, for she could only work at night. Mice like to sleep during the day and work at night, when there are no people around to interrupt them, and even the cat is fast asleep.
Some mice run about in the day-time, but they are not very wise mice who do this. At last Mamma Mouse gnawed a hole through the base-board large enough for her to get through into the pantry, and then her disappointment was great to find the bread jar covered over with a tin pan.
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But just then she espied a barrel of flour standing upon the floor; and that gave her new courage, for she knew she could easily gnaw through that, and the flour would do to eat just as well as the bread. It was now nearly daylight, so she decided to leave the attack upon the flour barrel until the next night;  and gathering up for the children a few crumbs that were scattered about, she ran back into the wall and scrambled up to her nest.
Hickory and Dickory and Dock were very glad to get the crumbs, for they were hungry; and when they had breakfasted they all curled up alongside their mother and slept soundly throughout the day. I am in hopes that after to-night we shall not be hungry for a long time, as I shall gnaw a hole at the back of the flour barrel, where it will not be discovered. When they were left alone Hickory wanted to go to sleep again, but little Dock was wide awake, and tumbled around so in the nest that his brothers were unable to sleep.
Take us out for a little walk, Hick, if you know the way. So the three little mice started off, with Hickory showing the way, and soon came to a crack in the wall. Hickory stuck his head through, and finding everything quiet, for the family of people that lived in the house were fast asleep, he squeezed through the crack, followed by his two brothers.
Their little hearts beat very fast, for they knew if they were discovered they would have to run for their lives; but the house was so still they gained courage, and crept along over a thick carpet until they came to a stairway. So, very carefully, they descended the stairs and reached the hallway of the house, and here they were much surprised by all they saw. There was a big rack for hats and coats, and an umbrella stand, and two quaintly carved chairs, and, most wonderful of all, a tall clock that stood upon  the floor and ticked out the minutes in a grave and solemn voice.
When the little mice first heard the ticking of the clock they were inclined to be frightened, and huddled close together upon the bottom stair. Then, seeing that the clock paid no attention to them, but kept ticking steadily away and seemed to mind its own business, they plucked up courage and began running about. Presently Dickory uttered a delighted squeal that brought his brothers to his side. There in a corner lay nearly the half of a bun which little May had dropped when nurse carried her upstairs to bed. It was a great discovery for the three mice, and they ate heartily until the last crumb had disappeared.
But they could find nothing more, for all the doors leading into the hall were closed, and at last Dock came to the clock and looked at it curiously. I'm going behind it to see what I can find. He found nothing except a hole that led to the inside of the clock, and into this he stuck his head. He could hear the ticking plainer than ever now, but looking way up to the top of the clock he saw something shining brightly, and thought it must be good to eat if he could only get at it.
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Without saying anything to his brothers, Dock ran up the sides of the clock until he came to the works, and he was just about to nibble at a glistening wheel, to see what it tasted like, when suddenly "Bang! It was one o'clock, and the clock had only struck the hour, but the great gong was just beside Dock's ear and the noise nearly deafened the poor little mouse. He gave a scream of terror and ran down the clock as fast as he could go. When he reached the hall he heard his brothers scampering up the stairs, and after them he ran with all his might.
It was only when they were safe in their nest again that they stopped to breathe, and their little hearts beat fast for an hour afterward, so great had been their terror. When Mamma Mouse came back in the morning, bringing a quantity of nice flour with her for breakfast, they told her of their adventure. She thought they had been punished enough already for their disobedience, so she did not scold them, but only said,.
Children sometimes think they know more than their parents, but this adventure should teach you always to obey your mother. The next time you run away you may fare worse than you did last night; remember your poor father's fate. They lived in a small cottage nestled at the foot of one of the hills, and each morning the mother took her crook and started out with her sheep, that they might feed upon the tender, juicy grasses with which the hills abounded.
The little girl usually accompanied her mother and sat by her side upon the grassy mounds and watched her care for the ewes and lambs, so that in time she herself grew to be a very proficient shepherdess. So when the mother became too old and feeble to leave her cottage, Little Bo-Peep as she was called decided that she was fully able to manage the flocks herself. She was a little mite of a child, with flowing nut-brown locks and big gray eyes that charmed all who gazed into their innocent depths.
She wore a light gray frock, fastened about the waist with a pretty pink sash, and there were white ruffles around her neck and pink ribbons in her hair. All the shepherds and shepherdesses upon the hills, both young and old, soon came to know Little Bo-Peep very well indeed, and there were many willing hands to aid her if which was not often she needed their assistance.
Bo-Peep usually took her sheep to the side of a high hill above the cottage, and allowed them to eat the rich grass while she herself sat upon a mound and, laying aside her crook and her broad straw hat with its pink ribbons, devoted her time to sewing and mending stockings for her aged mother.
She was bent nearly double by weight of many years, her hair was white as snow and her eyes as black as coals. Deep wrinkles seamed her face and hands, while her nose and chin were so pointed that they nearly met. She was not pleasant to look upon, but Bo-Peep had learned to be polite to the aged, so she answered, sweetly,.
The girl made room on the mound beside her, and the stranger sat down and watched in silence the busy  fingers sew up the seams of the new frock she was making. Then you are wiser that most people. And if you know all about them, you also know they will come home of their own accord, and  I have no doubt they will all be wagging their tails behind them, as usual. Perhaps you have never noticed their tails at all.
The woman laughed so hard at this reply that she began to cough, and this made the girl remember that her flock had strayed away. So she got upon her feet and began climbing the hill, and the girl heard her saying, as she walked away,. Little Bo-Peep sat still and watched the old woman toil slowly up the hill-side and disappear over the top. By and by she thought, "very soon I  shall see the sheep coming back;" but time passed away and still the errant flock failed to make its appearance. Soon the head of the little shepherdess began to nod, and presently, still thinking of her sheep,.
The girl now became quite anxious, and wondered why the old woman had not driven her flock over the hill. But as it was now time for luncheon she opened her little basket and ate of the bread and cheese and cookies she had brought with her. After she had finished her meal and taken a drink of cool water from a spring near by, she decided she would not wait any longer. When she got to the top there was never a sight of sheep about—only a green valley and another hill beyond. Now really alarmed for the safety of her charge, Bo-Peep hurried into the valley and up the farther hill-side. Panting and tired she reached the summit, and, pausing breathlessly, gazed below her.
Quietly feeding upon the rich grass was her truant  flock, looking as peaceful and innocent as if it had never strayed away from its gentle shepherdess. Bo-Peep uttered a cry of joy and hurried toward them; but when she came near she stopped in amazement and held up her little hands with a pretty expression of dismay.
She had. Nothing was left to each sheep but a wee little stump where a tail should be, and Little Bo-Peep was so heart-broken that she sat down beside them and sobbed bitterly. But after awhile the tiny maid realized that all her tears would not bring back the tails to her lambkins; so she plucked up courage and dried her eyes and arose from the ground just as the old woman hobbled up to her.
They've all left their tails behind them! They  make nice tippets in winter-time, you know;" and then she patted the child upon her head and walked away down the valley. No doubt a dealer of some kind looking for a quick resale value. This really pissed me off to no end. Library sales are one of the last places where you can get reasonably priced vintage books for yourself, and to have greedy little sales people picking through and taking out the good stuff is really annoying.
I mean come on, if you were a book dealer who really and truly loved and knew books, you wouldn't need the damn scanner anyway. Email This BlogThis! Newer Post Older Post Home. We invite you to relive your childhood while introducing the innocent themes of wonderment to an entire new generation.
The timelessness of childhood will ring true as your family literally walks through its all-time favorite stories and nursery rhymes at Storybook Land. Children's classics are interspersed with exciting new family rides and attractions in a remarkably clean and enjoyable park setting. Join us several times a year for memorable family experiences. You are certain to enjoy your visits! A cute place for family fun away from the beach. Storybook land is a children nursery rhyme and storybook themed amusement park in Egg Harbor Township.
It has been in operation for over 60 years and shows no signs of its age in terms of wear and tear.
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