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The Voice Actor Feedback Forum

Script Genres > English Children > Narration > Audiobook

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    30 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear CRS's recording

    My ultimate goal is Audiobooks. What do you think? Not so concerned with my accent this time, I'm hoping it works for this story.

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-76029/script-recording-65289.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    I enjoyed your interpretation of the copy. Some of the phrases were choppy-- for example, with "the sun rose, blood red over the hill." you paused at "rose" which disconnected it from the rest of the thought. There was also a bit of mouth noise, if you do some research on the web, I'm sure you can find ways to resolve that. I loved your sound effects, fun!

    Peer Feedback:

    I love the tone of your voice and your accent works well for the story. Just be aware of the levels on your recording. It tends to get a bit too loud and harsh at times. Your accent sounds African. The fact that it can be distinguished (like mine) from other more neutral accents, particularly American and British, there are certain limitations on what we can do in terms of mainstream voice over work for the American market. Good luck.

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks for the feedback. I'll work on the mouth noises and less disconnect. I'm glad you thought the accent was African since I was pushing that a bit more. Well, back to my recording space, lots of work to do....

    Peer Feedback:

    Hi CRS --
    Nice children's book read. I thought the accent was good - I think kids look right past it anyways, as long as the story is absorbing.

    Technically, I could hear your mic clipping. maybe you're speaking too closely to the mic (although I didn't really hear any plosives), or the gain is set a little too high. You should either step back a little or turn the gain down.

    cheers!
    Dave Saunders.

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    83 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear bond_tony's recording

    I would appreciate any comments on my performance, especially on my accent(English is not my mother tongue). Thanks in advance!

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-104816/script-recording-93936.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    I love your pace. What is your native language? Obviously, you've disguised it well. This was a very old school narration. I love it.

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks for your feedback! My native language is Russian

    Peer Feedback:

    well holy moses! Great job with the accent. Hats off to you

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks! Really means a lot to me!

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    Amber Brown is Tickled Pink

    Script:

    I look down at the budget worksheet. Number one is buy a house. We haven’t even moved into our new house yet and Mom is already worrying about how much everything costs.

    Number two is paying for college. During the divorce my mom and dad argued a lot about that. It made my stomach hurt.

    So one and two on Mrs. Holt’s list make me cranky. Three and four are a lot more fun. I start spending my $25,000 chunks.

    1. $25,000 for the Justin Daniels/Amber Brown Travel Fund. That way we can get together whenever we want.

    2. The Mom and Max Wedding Fund. In real life, Mom and Max are still figuring out what to do. Max wants a big wedding, Mom wants a small one. I’m with Max on this one. I think we should have an OTT wedding. Kelly Green taught me that phrase. It means “over the top.”

    I, Amber Brown, am frequently over the top.

    70 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear Sarah Winchell's recording

    Any feedback is appreciated!

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-37924/script-recording-52737.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Sarah, You sound very young and you did justice to this script with that natural story telling tone with good pacing and inflection. Best.

    Peer Feedback:

    Hey, Sarah. I agree with Arlen. Your performance was excellent. Enjoyed your character very much.

    Peer Feedback:

    Great read. I imagined an actual child telling the story.

    Peer Feedback:

    Hi Sara,
    I agree, great read and good inflection. I loved the voice. I don't know your age but you really sounded like a young girl.

    Peer Feedback:

    I have known kids that sound just like you as they rattle off goals. This was real!

    Peer Feedback:

    Very nice recording! It sounds quite good. Your voice sounds very much like a nine year old girl, so I hope that's what you were going for! The recording quality has a way to go. Maybe get a better mic or stand a bit father away from it? You might have to play around and see what works best. Really though, it's a wonderful recording!

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    Behind the Attic Wall - Sylvia Cassidy

    Script:

    "There you are Maggie. I've been calling you." It was Aunt Harriet's voice she heard, but the dining room was empty. It smelled of furniture polish, sharp and lemony, and Maggie shielded the lilac with her hand, keeping its own smell to itself. "We'll need help carrying in the tea things," the voice went on, and Maggie at last spotted her aunt under the dining table, rubbing its massive claw with an orange-streaked rag. "The raw cauliflower will go at one end of the table and the celery hearts at the other. The cookies and tea things will go in the center. What is that I smell?" she demanded, backing out along the floor. "Are you wearing perfume?"

    "No, it's this flower," Maggie answered. "I'm going to wear today. It matches my dress."

    "You've been in the garden, then. Wash your hands before handling the tableware. And put the flower outside. It has mealybugs. What's that in your other hand?

    "Nothing. It's for my hair." Maggie pressed the little black key into her palm and covered it with her thumb.

    "Where are you hurrying off to?"

    "Nowhere. Into the parlor."

    "Don't touch anything."

    "I won’t."

    93 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear Skmigs's recording

    I'm just starting practicing audiobooks. I love it… but I feel very "fake" and I'm not sure how to make it flow better.

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-94626/script-recording-77745.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Hi SKMigs,

    Thanks for commenting on my upload :) I really appreciate it.

    I thought it was a really good performance. Usually when it feels fake to you it sounds more natural to others so don't lose confidence over it. As you said its new to you and you will find your groove. Another reason it may feels "fake" to you is because there is tension or a rather uncomfortable feeling between the characters and age difference i would assume. As well the narrator role is always a tricky one.

    When prepping to record, spend about a half hour developing each character and the range you are speaking in. Also when I record characters I tend to do each one separately (like the recording you commented on for me) so that I don't have to feel multi personality going on. I tend to read the part of the one character and then read the next character in my head to allow for space. Then I open a new track under it and arm the track and record the next while listening to the playback of the other characters so that I can "respond" to the scenes easier and not lose the flow of the scene.

    Hope that helps you, it may also take away the "fake feeling " for you to actually react as the other character plays back. i find its helpful.

    Good luck to you on getting into it. ACX is always looking for narrators.

    -dk-

    Peer Feedback:

    Thank you, this is incredibly helpful.

    I am also a newbie at the tech portion of VO, so I had no idea I could record the voices separately. Ignorant question, but can that be done on any audio editor? (I use Twisted Wave). I'll have to play later and see if I can figure that out. Because yes, I do feel that multi-personality issue happening. And I can tell when one character voice bleeds into another (or, even more frequently, when one character bleeds into the narrator... which I hope will resolve a bit with more practice.)

    Thanks for the tip about ACX!

    Peer Feedback:

    Sounds good. I think you could do well on ACX. Something my banjo teacher once said to me is that it will always sound better to the listening audience than it sounds to you. We tend to be overly critical of our own performances, as we hear every little glitch that comes out different than what we "meant" to do. But it sounds just fine to the listener, and they don't know what you intended. OK, that's music, but I still think at least some of that applies here, and may address your feeling of sounding "fake."

    A good place to practice, though (1) you won't get paid, (2) you won't much if any feedback, and (3) your recordings are placed in the public domain, is librivox.org. If you want to try out a different genre, work on developing a new character, or just keep in practice and get your process down, you can volunteer to read anything you like there. You don't have to audition, and nobody will reject your submission because they don't like how you interpreted the piece.

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks Sundance for the librivox link. Will go try it out. And yes… I think the points your banjo teacher made apply to vo as well. :)

    Thank you Randye, all really useful critique. Still working on my ear, so very helpful to get pointers on articulation -- that's a weakness of mine in general.

    I hadn't even really considered the narrator voice -- I was so worried about the characters! -- and so hadn't noticed the tone I created with that voice. Definitely someting for me to start paying attention to. Thank you again for the pointers!!!

    Peer Feedback:

    Do you listen fiction audiobooks? If not, you should - and listen to narrators who have been doing it for a while.

    Notice their pace and they way they handle transitions from being the narrator to being the characters. There are some narrators who are more subtle than others with their characters - you get the idea that another character is talking (being quoted), but there is very little change to the vocal quality, maybe just an attitudinal change or a pause or a change in pace, volume or inflection. Other narrators really "go for it" (like Jim Dale with the Harry Potter books) and come up with a whole cast of distinct characters.

    One general comment that keeps coming at me in workshops that I have done.
    SLOW DOWN!
    Your start was just a touch "shot out of the canon". I understood the first quoted words, but it was still a little clipped and went by rather quickly. Slowing down will also help with the character transitions (from one character to another or from a character to the narrator and back).

    The other thing that comes up in my workshops is, "Gimme less voice." Performing audiobooks is not like being on stage, it's more intimate. The suggestion I have heard is: Think like you're standing right next to the person you're telling the story to and talking directly into their ear from about a foot away - too much voice, and you'll blow out their eardrum. That doesn't mean to suggest a whisper, just a more normal speaking volume. Even when the characters are shouting, it has to be a contained and controlled shout, or you'll be pegging into the red and the sound engineer will rip his/her headphones off.

    You read very well and are an good storyteller. The recording quality is a bit echo-y (a hallway type of reflection) and may be just a touch noisy for ACX standards. The solution may just be a matter of deadening your recording environment a bit more (with packing blankets, comforters, clothes, etc.).

    Peer Feedback:

    James, I just saw this. All really helpful tips, thank you. And yes, I do need to listen to more audiobooks.

    I am not recording in a home studio -- yet. Just a mic in a quiet room. We'll be working on sound proofing after we move, but I appreciate thost tips as well.

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    63 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear anthonyfx's recording

    A first attempt at a narration with some dialogue between characters. Feel free to criticise mercilessly.

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-114775/script-recording-89928.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    More often than not, people are coached to "slow down" when delivering an audiobook narration. In your case, however, I might suggest tightening it up just a touch.

    Something else that people take for granted with children's book narration, is that they should go into "baby talk" mode and/or exaggerate their range of inflection. Kids ,even pre-schoolers, are pretty savvy and can tell when they're being "talked down to." you certainly don't subscribe to that trend here.

    Dialogue is a tricky thing - even more so with a non-human character. One thing is to give the characters a "life." Imagine what they look like, what they're wearing, what the setting is, what is their attitude and POV.

    So. One is obviously a young girl, preoccupied with exploring. Is she stubbornly single minded in her task? Does she sass the cat? (After all, she answers the question twice.) Is she disturbed or frightened by She? Giving her some unique characteristics fully forms the character's being. And good on you for not succumbing to the temptation of going into your falsetto voice simply because she a young girl.

    The cat: A stereotypical idea of a feline is slow moving with a lot of attitude and somewhat mysterious. They purr when contented. Maybe work some of that into the cat's persona.

    The thing is, if you choose not to use a "character voice" for the dialogue, then differentiate them in another way. Just listening and not reading along, I might have had a little trouble deciding who was who.

    The recording quality is a little hollow - almost sounds like you're talking into a tube. If you used noise reduction, it's interfering with the natural frequencies of your voice

    Peer Feedback:

    You have a lovely voice, quite pleasant to listen to. Though, for a children's book, I agree with jamesromick about it being nice that you didn't fall into the trap of "baby talk" as the narrator, I would also be cautious of too calm and lulling. Pacing may be a bit slow, lacking energy. Perhaps some more distinct vocal qualities between the two characters, particularly giving the non-human some "feline" characteristics. This is nit-picky, but you also left off a "said Coraline" in the middle, and later the "said Coraline" seemed to stay in Coraline's voice. Had a mesmerizing quality.

    Peer Feedback:

    Thank you both, James and Joy, for your close attention and detailed, relevant comments. Plenty to think about and work on in there.

    Peer Feedback:

    Your voice is very pleasing to the ears. Tempo was just a tiny bit too slow for me. Have you tried reading it at different tempos? I thought maybe a bit more emotion either excitement/anger/fear perhaps on the "You were wrong!" she told the cat. "There is something there!". I heard distinction between the cat and Coraline in some places but not others, it is a challenge to keep it consistent throughout the length of the read. I also agree with joypacevoice that your voice has a mesmerizing quality which should bode well for you.

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    Ghost and Goblin

    Script:

    One evening Goblin said, "Ghost, let's go for a walk." "Now?" said Ghost. "It's very late." "I know," said Goblin. "But I feel like walking." "All right, I'll go with you." And off they went. "It's very dark out," said Ghost. "Yes," said Goblin. "But I'm not scared!" "Neither am I," said Ghost. And off they went. "Goblin, what would you do if a monster came up behind us?" asked Ghost. "Well," said Goblin, "I would turn red. Then I would turn blue. Then Purple!"

    58 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear tlg3916's recording

    I am very new to VO. Hit me with all my faults. LOL This is my first recording in the childrens audibook genre. Thank you.

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-81888/script-recording-88915.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Hi,
    I think you sound pretty good reading for this genre. Might be a bit of room sound in the recording.

    - touzet -

    Peer Feedback:

    Sounded like a great read to me. I think your pauses after certain sentences were right on. A lot of story readers fly from one sentence or speaker to the next, but the listener needs time to process the story and the conversation. (As a teacher) when I read a piece to a class, I like those pauses because they also allow me time to orient myself to the next sentence or event.
    I think to get more specific feedback on your voice or mic technique, you'll need to deaden the room sound eventually.

    Peer Feedback:

    Very nice read! You actually remind me a lot of my mom reading me books when I was little... But anyway, you definitely had a bit of echo in your recording. I've heard you can solve that by recording under a think blanket, so you might want to try that. As for the performance, the only possible way it could be better is if you altered your voice a bit for the characters, to give them a little more life. Really though it's a wonderful recording and sounds just like something children would like to listen to.

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    Jack & The Beanstalk

    Script:

    There once was a boy called Jack who was brave and quick-witted. He lived with his mother in a small cottage and their most valuable possession was their cow, Milky-White. But the day came when Milky-White gave them no milk and Jack’s mother said she must be sold.

    “Take her to market,” she told Jack, “and mind you get a good price for her.”

    So Jack set out to market leading Milky-White by her halter. After a while he sat down to rest by the side of the road. An old man came by and Jack told him where he was going.

    “Don’t bother to go to the market,” the old man said. “Sell your cow to me. I will pay you well. Look at these beans. Only plant them, and overnight you will find you have the finest bean plants in all the world. You’ll be better offwith these beans than with an old cow or money. Now, how many is five, Jack?”

    “Two in each hand and one in your mouth,” replied Jack, as sharp as a needle.

    41 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear jrdenton's recording

    As was suggested I'm trying some kids genre. Thanks!

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-63565/script-recording-58773.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    You're reading in very quick bursts which are separated by odd pauses. You'll hear that your reading is "choppy" based on that pattern. Relax in front of the mic..imagine your audience (in this case some children to whom you might be narrating) and try and read this script more conversationally. You have a friendly sounding voice. I think children would relate to it well if you could relax and talk to them instead of AT them. Best of luck.

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks for the advice & compliments Tom. I was trying to add some enthusiasm; hence the staccato type “bursts”. Guess I have some more work to do.

    Peer Feedback:

    I guess advice I'd give about enthusiasm would be to make it more a tonal change than speed. Speed somewhat, of course...that's natural...but more tone.

    Peer Feedback:

    I agree with Tom's comments.

    I like your voice in these scripts very much. I think you've definitely found a nice genre to have in your VO toolkit. I like the level of change in your voice (pitch and huskiness) for your characters, and I'd add that when you make up different character voices, it's helpful to change more than just their tone. If you change the speed at which they talk, the level of diction, et cetera, you'll add another level to them.

    Peer Feedback:

    I absolutely love your character voices. I would slow your own voice down, and make it more conspiratorial, like , I'm gong to let you in on a secret of what happens when you don't listen to your mother. You have a nice young sounding voice and I think kids will really like to listen to you.

    Peer Feedback:

    Dear JRD, I like the character voices the most and the energy is good. I have a hard time staying up with your speed. I would like to be able to process the story as you go. Keep the energy but slow it down a bit. This is another way of talking bout TxTom's comment on tone.

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    13 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear Lukky Salas's recording

    I just got a new recorder so I want to know what you think of the quality of the sound. Also I'm trying a few children's scripts.

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/COYOTE.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Another enthusiastic read. This one was a little faster but still slow enough to keep children's attention and not bore them. I liked the suggestion of a New York accent in your characterization.

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks for your reading. It sounds like Coyote is going to get into a bit a trouble,,, again and fearlessly doing so. As native American character in so many stories, Coyote's mischievous character comes out in your reading. Thanks.

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    Secret Keepers (Trenton Lee Stewart, 2016, Little, Brown & Co.)

    Script:

    "Is there a back way out of this place, kid?"
    "I--I don't think so". Reuben was watching Mrs. Genevieve, who had opened her eyes at the sound of sudden movement and seemed surprised by the expression of high alarm on all their faces. But why would she be surprised? Reuben blurted out what he hoped was the truth: "She hasn't been stalling us, Jack. She would never do that."
    Mrs. Genevieve's eyebrows shot up. "Is this what he suggests? That I have trapped you?" She looked indignantly at Jack, who was stepping briskly to the door into the shop. "A horrible thing!"
    "So you were just making tea?" Jack pressed his ear to the door. "You didn't happen to put anything special in it? I noticed you didn't take a drink yourself."
    "What is this you are saying?" Mrs. Genevieve cried, rising shakily to her feet.
    "Everybody calm down." Reuben said, trying to calm down himself.
    Jack had opened the door a crack and was peering out into the shop.

    56 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear sentry40335's recording

    Greetings guys...just practicing some editing and timing here. Also, there are three distinct characters, and I wonder if I've differentiated them adequately? Hope all's well. ...bob

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-123511/script-recording-95862.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Actually four characters if one includes the narrator.

    Peer Feedback:

    You have a great voice. Definitely some echo and you can hear some hard edits.

    Peer Feedback:

    Recording quality leaves much to be desired. lots of distortion. Unusual from your other sunbmissions.

    Doing characters (quotes) can go a number of ways. There are audiobook narrators that go all out with different voices, accents and the like. Then there are others (one very famous and prolific one in particular) who does his character's quotes very minimally, vocally, if at all. But when you listen to this particular narrator, there is no question as to which character is talking and when. The trick in that case is to leave slight pauses before and after the quotes and/or give the character(s) their own attitude, personality, POV, etc. Maybe one talks a little louder or slower or faster or angrily or meekly or dimwittedly or smart-alacky...well, you get the picture. You don't necessarily need to do "character voices" ala Mel Blanc, but you do have to differentiate them in some way with pace, inflection, attitude, etc. And the narrator should just be you.

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks as always, James ... didn't hear the distortion until after you mentioned it. Almost like a phase shifting thing. Particularly on the esses. Must re-check settings on Tascam, but have noticed that most of those in here use a computer-based program such as Audacity. I do have it, but have always believed the quality to be lower than the Porta-studio. Guess I can be "taught" new perspectives, eh? I really appreciate your take on character differentiation and yes, that IS what I was aiming for, even if I only partially attained it. Again, thanks and wishing you a great day. Be well. bob

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    Short Segment from "And Then What Happened, Paul Revere?" by Jean Fritz

    Script:

    He had already arranged a quick way of warning the people of Charlestown across the river. Two lanterns were to be hung in the steeple of the North Church if the English were coming by water. One lantern if they were coming by land. So Paul rushed to the North Church and gave directions. "Two lanterns," he said. "Now."

    Then he ran home, flung open the door, pulled on his boots, grabbed his coat, kissed his wife, told the children to be good, and off he went, his hat clapped to his head, his coat tails flying. He was in such a hurry that he left the door open, and his dog got out.

    20 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear dceckerson's recording

    Just looking for some feedback on my read. I'm not really worried about technical aspects here, such as the quality of my mic or the lack of background music to accompany the read. I was more concerned with whether the read was interesting, smooth, and that some key words were emphasized. Thanks for listening!

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-6722/script-recording-30231.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Vocal performance - clarity was good, it was a good read overall.

    Peer Feedback:

    I liked the variation of speed and tone you used to set the image of PR rushing to get out of the house. Your calrity was very good. I did hear a bit of leaving off word ending sounds on a few words that might be an issue for some, but I liked it.

    Peer Feedback:

    Nice read, here. I like the energy in the voice as well as the varied tempos used in different sections of the script as needed. Good job.

    George T.

    Peer Feedback:

    I can see fourth graders on the edge of their seats to hear what happens next. There is great urgency in the read that allows us to see the whirlwind that must have been that night.

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    The Frog Prince Excerpt 1

    Script:

    The princess was so happy! She picked up the ball and ran away… “Wait” shouted the frog. “You can't leave without me!” But the princess would not listen. She didn't want to be friends with an ugly old frog!

    66 people have played this

    Paid Job Recording:

    Click to hear TedVoInSpain's recording

    This is the first real dialogue of the distressed frog, again an excerpt from an interactive children's book. Again, young wide eyed children the audience, there is artwork and sound effects in the final version.

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-8990/script-recording-33356.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Sounds great to me. : ) Very cool, consistent frog voice.

    Peer Feedback:

    I really like the way you tackle this - the frog voice, the eager animation of the narrative. Definitely would keep the attention of the child who would be listening. And isn't that what we're after?

    Great job!!

    George T.

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    printer friendly version edit
    Abiyoyo

    Script:

    Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo,Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo!

    Based on a South African Lullaby and Folk Story
    Text By Pete Seeger
    Illustrations by Micheal Hays
    Spoken and sung by...me...Samuel Williams

    Once upon a time there was a little boy, who played a ukulele. Around town he goes: clink, clunk, CLONK! The grownups would say:

    "Take that thing out of here!"

    Not only that. The boy's father would get in trouble, too. His father was a magician. He had a magic wand and he could go Zoop, Zoop, Zoop! And make things disappear.

    But, he played to many tricks on people. He'd come up to someone just about to drink a nice glass of...something. Zoop! The glass would disappear. He'd come up to someone doing a hard job of work - maybe sawing a log of wood. Up comes the father with his magic wand: Zoop! And the saw would disappear. He'd come up to someone just about to sit down after a hard day's work, and zoop! no chair.

    People got tired of all this. They said to the father: "You get out of here too. Take your magic wand and your practical jokes and you and your son, just git!"
    And the boy and his father, were ostracized. That means, they made 'em live on the outskirts of town.

    Now, in this town they used to tell stories. The old people used to tell stories about the monsters and giants that lived in the old days! They used to tell a story about a giant called Abiyoyo. They said he was as tall as a tree, and could eat...people...up.

    Of course, nobody believed it, but they told the stories anyway. But one day, one day, the sun rose, blood red over the hill. And the first people that got up and looked out of their window - they saw a great big shadow in front of the sun. And they could feel the whole ground shake. Stomp, stomp.

    Women screamed. Strong men fainted. "Run for your lives! Abiyoyo's coming!"
    Down through the fields he came. He came to the sheep, pasture and grabs a whole sheep. Yeowp! He comes to the cow pasture. Yuhk!

    Just then the boy and his father woke up. They had been up late the night before at a party. The boy rubbed his eyes and said:
    "Hey, paw, what's coming over the fields?" The father said: "Oh, son. It's Abiyoyo. Oh, if only I could get him to lie down. I could make him to disappear."

    The boy said, "Come with me father." He grabbed his father by one hand. The father gets his magic wand, and the boy grabs his ukulele. Over the fields they went, right up to where Abiyoyo was. People screamed "Don't go near him! He'll eat you alive!"

    There was Abiyoyo. He had long fingernails, 'cause he never cut 'em. He had slobbery teeth 'cause he didnt brush'em. Stinking feet, 'cause he never washed them. He raised up with his claws, when the boy whipped out his ukulele.

    Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo Abiyoyo, yo yoyo yo yoyo Abiyoyo, yo yoyo yo yoyo

    Well you know, the giant had never heard a song about himself before, and a foolish grin spread across his face. And the giant started to dance.

    Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo Abiyoyo, yo yoyo yo yoyo Abiyoyo, yo yoyo yo yoyo. The boy went faster.

    ABIYOYO, YO YOYO, YO YOYO ABIYOYO, YO YOYO...

    The giant got out of breath. He staggered. He fell down flat on the ground.
    Up steps the father, Zoop, zoop! Abiyoyo disappeared!
    People streamed out of their houses, and ran across the fields. They said: "Why, he's gone, he's disappeared!"

    And then they said: "Come on back to town. Bring your ukulele; we don't care."

    And they all sang:
    Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo
    Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo
    Abiyoyo, yo yoyo yo yoyo
    Abiyoyo. yo yoyo yo yoyo.

    Recordings:

    Hear and comment on a recording of this script that one of your peers recorded.

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    Aesop's Fables

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    Aesop's Fables
    Script:

    Aesop's fables: the tortoise and the ducks
    The Tortoise, you know, carries his house on his back. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot leave home. They say that Jupiter punished him so, because he was such a lazy stay-at-home that he would not go to Jupiter's wedding, even when especially invited. After many years, Tortoise began to wish he had gone to that wedding. When he saw how gaily the birds flew about and how the Hare and the Chipmunk and all the other animals ran nimbly by, always eager to see everything there was to be seen, the Tortoise felt very sad and discontented. He wanted to see the world too, and there he was with a house on his back and little short legs that could hardly drag him along. One day he met a pair of Ducks and told them all his trouble. "We can help you to see the world," said the Ducks. "Take hold of this stick with your teeth and we will carry you far up in the air where you can see the whole countryside. But keep quiet or you will be sorry." The Tortoise was very glad indeed. He seized the stick firmly with his teeth, the two Ducks took hold of it one at each end, and away they sailed up toward the clouds. Just then a Crow flew by. She was very much astonished at the strange sight and cried: "This must surely be the King of Tortoises!" "Why certainly——" began the Tortoise. But as he opened his mouth to say these foolish words he lost his hold on the stick, and down he fell to the ground, where he was dashed to pieces on a rock.

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    Amber Brown Is Not A Crayon By Paula Danzinger

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    Finding my passport and tickets is not easy, because I, Amber Brown, am one very messy third-grader. I quickly pull things out of my desk. The book I'm going to use for my report, half a roll of strawberry licorice, my sticker book, two headbands, seven rubber bands, eleven paper clips and finally, my passport and tickets, which I have put in a specially decorated case. I used a lot of my stickers on it.

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    Animals At Play By Stuart L. Brown

    Script:

    The end seemed very near for Hudson, a Canadian Eskimo dog tethered near the shore of Hudson Bay east of Churchill, Manitoba. A thousand-pound polar bear was lumbering toward the dog and about 40 others, the prized possessions of Brian Ladoon, a hunter and trapper. It was mid-November; ice had not yet formed on the bay, and the open water prevented bears from hunting their favorite prey, seals. So this bear had been virtually fasting for four months. Surely a dog was destined to become a meal.

    The bear closed in. Did Hudson howl in terror and try to flee? On the contrary. He wagged his tail, grinned, and actually bowed to the bear, as if in invitation. The bear responded with enthusiastic body language and nonaggressive facial signals. These two normally antagonistic species were speaking the same language: "Let’s play!"

    The romp was on. For several minutes dog and bear wrestled and cavorted. Once the bear completely wrapped himself around the dog like a friendly white cloud. Bear and dog then embraced, as if in sheer abandon. Overheated by his smaller playmate’s shenanigans, the bear lay down and called for a time-out.

    Every evening for more than a week the bear returned to play with one of the dogs. Finally, the ice formed and he set off for his winter habitat.

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    Beyond The Pawpaw Trees By Palmer Brown

    Script:

    As she came nearer, she noticed that the mirage did not rest on the ground. It seemed to float just a little above the surface of the desert. She could see clear underneath it, where it cast a rippling blue shadow on the sand. Anna Lavinia shut her eyes tight and counted three before opening them. The mirage was still there. It did not go away at all as she approached. When she came close, she could see that it was floating gently about three feet off the ground. The wild flowers that grew on the edge hung over so that she could touch them, and when the camel began to nibble at some blue buttercups, Anna Lavinia knew she could believe what she saw.

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    Brer Bear an De Bag Full of Turkeys

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    One day, Brer Rabbit wuz loungin‘ round under a pomegranate tree, puzzlin‘ what he wuz goin‘ ter do next. He just couldn‘t make up his mind. On de one hand, he wuz feelin‘ sorter hungry, but on de other hand, he wuz feelin‘ sorter lazy. By ‗n‘ by, he seed Brer Bear comin‘ along wid a big empty bag slung over his shoulder. ―Howdy, Brer Bear! Wher you goin‘ wid dat bag?‖ ―I‘m goin‘ huntin. So long!‖ Wid dat Brer Bear go trudgin‘ off on his way.

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    Chanticleer And The Fox By Geoffrey Chaucer And Barbara Cooney

    Script:

    A fox, tipped with black, and full of sly wickedness, had lived in the grove for three years. That same night, he burst through the hedges into the yard where fair Chanticleer was in the habit of going. And the fox lay quietly in a bed of herbs until almost noon of that day. Partlet, with all her sisters nearby, lay merrily bathing in the sand, with her back to the sun, and the lordly Chanticleer sang more joyfully than the mermaid in the sea. Now it happened that, as he cast his eye upon a butterfly among the herbs, Chanticleer became aware of the fox lying low.

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    Coraline

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    It took a few moments for her eyes to focus on it properly. She thought it might be some kind of lion, at first, some distance away from her; and then she thought it might be a mouse, close beside her. And then she knew what it was.
      
      "I'm exploring," Coraline told the cat.
      
      Its fur stood straight out from its body and its eyes were wide, while its tail was down and between its legs. It did not look a happy cat.
      
      "Bad place," said the cat. "If you want to call it a place, which I don't. What are you doing here?"
      
      "I'm exploring."
      
      "Nothing to find here," said the cat. "This is just the outside, the part of the place she hasn't bothered to create."
      
      "She?"
      
      "The one who says she's your other mother," said the cat.
      
      "What is she?" asked Coraline.
      
      The cat did not answer, just padded through the pale mist beside Coraline.
      
      Something began to appear in front of them, something high and towering and dark.
      
      "You were wrong!" she told the cat. "There is something there!"
      
      And then it took shape in the mist: a dark house, which loomed at them out of the formless whiteness.
      
      "But that's—" said Coraline.
      
      "The house you just left," agreed the cat. "Precisely."

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    Coyote In New York

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    This is a true story. See, that's a photograph of me, coyote, in the newspaper, after I had been shot down in Central Park. Hey, don't worry, I wasn't dead though. Just in for a long, soft sleep at the Bronx Zoo! Never had I seen so many animals in one place! And just exactly how did I get into this mess? Well . . . I had a dream - to go where no coyote had gone before...New York City!

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    Dr. Seuss

    Script:

    Dear Whelden will show you great sights as you go: Right now you are riding down Stethoscope Row. And I know that, like all our top patients, you’re hoping to get yourself stethed with some fine first-class scoping. So I’m sure you’ll be simply delighted to hear that in the Internal Organs Olympics last year Doctor Schmidt, Smoot, Sinatra, Sylvester, and Fonz won fifteen gold medals, nine silver, six bronze! For the moment, however, we’ll by-pass this bunch. There is plenty of time to see them after lunch.

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    Dr. Seuss 2

    Script:

    You must see Dr. Pollen, our Allergy Whiz, who knows every sniffle and itch that there is. Dr. Pollen will find, as he works on your case, if the face powder’s wrong on your stepsister’s face. He will check your reactions to thumbtacks and glue, catcher’s mitts, leaf mold, and cardigans, too, nasturtiums and marble cake, white and blue chalks, anthracite coal and the feathers of hawks. Also corn on the cob. Also buffalo grease and how you react when you’re stared at by geese. He’ll take copious notes. Then I’ll hazard a guess, that he’ll send you downstairs to see Dr. Van Ness.

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    Eleven

    Script:

    This is when I wish I wasn’t eleven, because all the years inside of me – ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one – are pushing at the back of my eyes when I put one arm through one sleeve of the sweater that smells like cottage cheese, and then the other arm through the other and stand there with my arms apart like if the sweater hurts me and it does, all itchy and full of germs that aren’t even mine.

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    Forgiven By A.a. Milne

    Script:

    I found a little beetle, so that Beetle was his name. And I called him Alexander and he answered just the same. I put him in a match-box, and I kept him all the day ... And Nanny let my beetle out--Yes, Nanny let my beetle out--She went and let my beetle out--And Beetle ran away. She said she didn’t mean it, and I never said she did. She said she wanted matches and she just took off the lid. She said that she was sorry, but it’s difficult to catch an excited sort of beetle you’ve mistaken for a match.

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    Ghost And Goblin

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    One evening Goblin said, “Ghost, let’s go for a walk.” “Now?” said Ghost. “It’s very late.” “I know,” said Goblin. “But I feel like walking.” “All right, I’ll go with you.” And off they went. “It’s very dark out,” said Ghost. “Yes,” said Goblin. “But I’m not scared!” “Neither am I,” said Ghost. And off they went. “Goblin, what would you do if a monster came up behind us?” asked Ghost. “Well,” said Goblin, “I would turn red. Then I would turn blue. Then purple!

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    Goodnight Moon, by Margaret Wise Brown

    Script:

    In the great green room
    there was a telephone
    And a red balloon
    And a picture of--

    The cow jumping over the moon

    and there were three little bears, sitting on chairs

    and two little kittens and a pair of mittens

    and a little toy house and a young mouse

    and a comb and a brush and bowl full of mush

    and a quiet old lady who was whispering "hush"

    Goodnight room

    goodnight moon

    goodnight cow jumping over the moon

    goodnight light and the red balloon

    goodnight bears goodnight chairs

    goodnight kittens goodnight mittens

    goodnight clocks and goodnight socks

    goodnight little house and goodnight mouse

    goodnight comb and goodnight brush

    goodnight nobody goodnight mush

    and goodnight to the old lady whispering "hush"

    goodnight stars, goodnight air

    goodnight noises everywhere.

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    Grandma Tildy -- No Elephants!

    Script:

    Grandma Tildy lived all alone. She worked hard every day. She had no time to play. One day a man came to her house. He was selling pets. “Would you like to buy a canary bird?” asked the man. “Very well,” said Grandma Tildy. “But no elephants!” Grandma Tildy was cooking stew. The bird wanted to help. So he sang a song for her. It made Grandma Tildy happy. That night they sat down to eat the stew together. And it tasted better than ever before.

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    Gulliver’s Travels By Jonathan Swift

    Script:

    My father had a small estate in Nottinghamshire, and I was the third of five sons. When I was fourteen years old, he sent me to Cambridge University, where I remained three years and worked hard at my studies. The charge of keeping me in college was too great for my father, so I was bound apprentice to an eminent surgeon in London, where I resided four years. With small sums of money given to me by my father, I learned navigation and other parts of mathematics useful to those who intended to travel, as I always believed I would do some day.

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    Indian Bunny

    Script:

    One day a bunny said, Good-by, I’m going to be an Indian. I’ll follow the stream and I’ll walk along a hidden forest trail -- so silently that not even the deer will hear me. In the stream I’ll find a tadpole and he’ll tell me how he turns into a frog. I’ll come to a meadow and do a deer dance when the sun is high. I’ll climb a tree and look far out. An eagle will come to his nest, so I’ll hide in my friend the Owl’s house and watch him. I’ll climb down and find a feather the eagle has floated down to me. Then I’ll follow the hidden trail to the place where the animals meet. And I’ll watch them. And when the sun is low I’ll silently steal away.

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    Ira Sleeps Over

    Script:

    I was invited to sleep at Reggie’s house. Boy, was I happy. I had never slept at a friend’s house before. But I had a problem. It began when my sister said, “Are you taking your teddy bear along?” “Taking my teddy bear along?” I said. “To my friend’s house? Are you kidding? That’s the silliest thing I ever heard. Of course I’m not taking my teddy bear along.” And then she said, “But you never slept without your teddy bear before. How will you feel sleeping without your teddy bear for the very first time? Hmmmmmm?” “I’ll feel fine. I’ll feel great. I’ll probably love sleeping without my teddy bear. Just don’t worry about it,” I said. “Who’s worried?” she said.

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    Jack and the Beanstalk

    Script:

    Jack and the Beanstalk

    English Traditional

    There once was a boy called Jack who was brave and quick-witted. He lived with his mother in a small cottage and their most valuable possession was their cow, Milky-White. But the day came when Milky-White gave them no milk and Jack’s mother said she must be sold.

    “Take her to market,” she told Jack, “and mind you get a good price for her.”

    So Jack set out to market leading Milky-White by her halter. After a while he sat down to rest by the side of the road. An old man came by and Jack told him where he was going.

    “Don’t bother to go to the market,” the old man said. “Sell your cow to me. I will pay you well. Look at these beans. Only plant them, and overnight you will find you have the finest bean plants in all the world. You’ll be better offwith these beans than with an old cow or money. Now, how many is five, Jack?”

    “Two in each hand and one in your mouth,” replied Jack, as sharp as a needle.

    “Right you are, here are five beans,” said the old man and he handed the beans to Jack and took Milky-White’s halter.

    When he reached home, his mother said, “Back so soon, Jack? Did you get a good price for Milky-White?”

    Jack told her how he had exchanged the cow for five beans and before he could finish his account, his mother started to shout and box his ears. “You lazy good-for-nothing boy!” she screamed, “How could you hand over our cow for five old beans? What will we live on now? We shall starve to death, you stupid boy.”

    She flung the beans through the open window and sent Jack to bed without his supper.

    When Jack woke the next morning there was a strange green light in his room. All he could see from, the window was green leaves. A huge beanstalk had shot up overnight. It grew higher than he could see. Quickly Jack got dressed and stepped out of the window right onto the beanstalk and started to climb.

    “The old man said the beans would grow overnight,” he thought. “They must indeed be very special beans.”

    Higher and higher Jack climbed until at last he reached the top and found himselfon a strange road. Jack followed it until he came to a great castle where he could smell the most delicious breakfast. Jack was hungry. It had been a long climb and he had had nothing to eat since midday the day before. Just as he reached the door of the castle he nearly tripped over the feet of an enormous woman.

    “Here, boy,” she called. “What are you doing? Don’t you know my husband likes to eat boys for breakfast? It’s lucky I have already fried up some bacon and mushrooms for him today, or I’d pop you in the frying pan. He can eat you tomorrow, though.”

    “Oh, please don’t let him eat me,” pleaded Jack. “I only came to ask you for a bite to eat. It smells so delicious.”

    Now the giant’s wife had a kind heart and did not really enjoy cooking boys for breakfast, so she gave Jack a bacon sandwich. He was still eating it when the ground began to shake with heavy footsteps, and a loud voice boomed: “Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum.”

    “Quick, hide!” cried the giant’s wife and she pushed Jack into the oven. “After breakfast, he’ll fall asleep,” she whispered. “That is when you must creep away.” She left the oven door open a crack so that jack could see into the room. Again the terrible rumbling voice came:

    “Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum,

    I smell the blood of an Englishman, Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”

    A huge giant came into the room. “Boys, boys, I smell boys,” he shouted. “Wife, have I got a boy for breakfast today?”

    “No, dear,” she said soothingly. “You have got bacon and mushrooms. You must still be smelling the boy you ate last week.” The giant sniffed the air suspiciously but at last sat down. He wolfed his breakfast of bacon and mushrooms, drank a great bucketful of steaming tea and crunched up a massive slice of toast. Then he fetched a couple of bags of gold from a cupboard and started counting gold coins. Before long he dropped off to sleep.

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    Junie B Jones and the Yucky Blucky Fruitcake

    Script:

    Chapter One: The Bestest Game Winner

    My name is Junie B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don't like Beatrice. I just like B and that's all. I am in the grade of kindergarten. It is the afternoon kind. Afternoon kindergarten is better than morning kindergarten. That is because you get to sleep late. And watch cartoons.

    Only guess what? Today my baby brother named Ollie waked me up very too early. He was screaming for his bottle. But screaming is not polite. And so he needed some discipline, I think. I sat up in my bed.

    "HEY! SHUT UP YOUR FACE!" I hollered.

    Mother opened my door speedy quick. Her eyes were angry at me.

    "Junie B. Jones! What do you think you're doing?" she growled.

    I hided from her under my sheet.

    "I think I'm doin' discipline," I said kind of quiet.

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    Lyle and the Birthday Party

    Script:

    “Please,” said Mrs. Primm, when she was connected with the zoo, “My crocodile isn’t feeling well today. Could you kindly recommend a good crocodile doctor?” “Where is the crocodile?” a man asked. “He’s right beside me, here in the living room,” said Mrs. Primm. “Living room?” “Yes ... liv ... ing roooom. Please,” continued Mrs. Primm, “He must have a doctor.” “Well ...” the man hesitated. “Yes, do go on,” pressed Mrs. Primm. “Well, there is a Dr. Lewis James on East 25th Street who is very good with crocodiles.” “Oh, thank you. Thank you so very much,” said Mrs. Primm gratefully. The instant Mrs. Primm put down the receiver, she realized she had forgotten to ask for the doctor’s phone number.

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    Mary Poppins Opens The Door

    Script:

    The King gave a sullen snort of rage. “Tomfoolery! Nonsensical bosh!” The Cat held up its paw for silence. “Will you answer my second question, please! Where is the sweetest milk to be found?” Immediately the King’s face cleared, and took on a confident smirk. “As simple as A.B.C.,” he said loftily. “The answer, of course, is Sardinia. For there the cows live on honey and roses and their milk is as sweet as Golden Syrup. Or perhaps I should saythe Elegant Islands, where they feed upon nothing but sugar cane. Or Greece, where they browse in the Candytuft. Now taking into consideration--“ “I can take nothing into consideration,” said the Cat, “except the fact that you have not answered my question. Where is the sweetest milk, O King?” “I know!” Cried the little Page, pausing for a moment above a half-filled inkwell. “In a saucer by the fire.” The Cat gave the child an approving nod and yawned in the face of the King.

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    Matilda By Roald Dahl

    Script:

    It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful. Some parents go further. They become so blinded by adoration, they manage to convince themselves their child has qualities of genius. Well there’s nothing wrong with all this. It’s the way of the world. It’s only when the parents begin telling us about the brilliance of their own revolting offspring that we start shouting “Bring us a basin, we are going to be sick”. Occasionally one comes across parents who take the opposite line. Who show no interest at all in their children and these of course are far worse than the doting ones.
    Mr and Mrs Wormwood were two such parents. They had a son called Michael and a daughter called Matilda and the parents looked upon Matilda in particular as nothing more than a scab. A scab is something you have to put up with until the time comes when you can pick it off and flick it away. Mr and Mrs Wormwood looked forward enormously to the time when they could pick their little daughter off and flick her away, preferably to the next County or even further than that.. It is bad enough when parents treat ordinary children as though they were scabs and bunions but it becomes somehow a lot worse when the child in question is extra-ordinary and by that I mean, sensitive and brilliant. Matilda was both of these things but above all she was brilliant. Her mind was so nimble and she was so quick to learn, that her ability should have been obvious even to the most half witted of parents. Mr and Mrs Wormwood were both so gormless and so wrapped up in their own silly little lives that they failed to notice anything unusual about their daughter. To tell the truth I doubt they would have noticed even if she had crawled into the house with a broken leg.

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    Matilda, by Roald Dahl

    Script:

    It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful. Some parents go further. They become so blinded by adoration, they manage to convince themselves their child has qualities of genius. Well there’s nothing wrong with all this. It’s the way of the world. It’s only when the parents begin telling us about the brilliance of their own revolting offspring that we start shouting “Bring us a basin, we are going to be sick”. Occasionally one comes across parents who take the opposite line. Who show no interest at all in their children and these of course are far worse than the doting ones.
    Mr and Mrs Wormwood were two such parents. They had a son called Michael and a daughter called Matilda and the parents looked upon Matilda in particular as nothing more than a scab. A scab is something you have to put up with until the time comes when you can pick it off and flick it away. Mr and Mrs Wormwood looked forward enormously to the time when they could pick their little daughter off and flick her away, preferably to the next County or even further than that.. It is bad enough when parents treat ordinary children as though they were scabs and bunions but it becomes somehow a lot worse when the child in question is extra-ordinary and by that I mean, sensitive and brilliant. Matilda was both of these things but above all she was brilliant. Her mind was so nimble and she was so quick to learn, that her ability should have been obvious even to the most half witted of parents. Mr and Mrs Wormwood were both so gormless and so wrapped up in their own silly little lives that they failed to notice anything unusual about their daughter. To tell the truth I doubt they would have noticed even if she had crawled into the house with a broken leg.

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    Mister Fox And The Grapes

    Script:

    Mister Fox was nearly famished, and thirsty too, so he stole into vineyard where he spied bunches of sun-ripened grapes hanging up on a trellis. The grapes were very tempting, but they were too high for the fox to reach. So, he took a run and jumped up at the nearest bunch. But he missed. Again and again the fox jumped, only to miss the luscious prize every time. At last, worn out with his efforts, he retreated, muttering as he went, “Well, I never really wanted those grapes anyway. I bet they’re sour, and probably wormy, too.”

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    Moominpappa At Sea

    Script:

    Moomintroll got out of bed as quietly as he could so as not to wake Moominpappa and Moominmamma, and went up to the window, opened it carefully and looked out. Now he could hear the faint sound of the waves breaking on the beach, and see the dark rocks floating forlornly in the sea. Far away a bird called; the island was completely at rest. No--something was happening down on the beach. The distant fall of hurrying feet, something splashing in the water--something was happening down there.

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    my grandmother asked me to tell you she's sorry

    Script:

    Fredrik Backman2015, Washington Square Press

    pp 103: The monster is getting tired of all the questions.
    "Has Grief" he says in a low voice towards the wurse, rubbing his hands together although there is nothing left to rub in.
    "Grief about what?" asks Elsa
    The monster's gaze is fixed on his palms
    "Grief about your grandmother."
    Elsa looks at the wurse. The wurse looks at her with black, sad eyes. Later, when she thinks about it, Elsa assumes this is when she really, really starts liking it a lot. She looks at the monster again.
    "Why did my granny send you a letter?"
    He rubs his hands harder.
    "Old friend," he mutters from behind his mountain of black hair.
    "What did it say?"
    "Just said sorry. Just sorry..." he says, disappearing even deeper into his hair and beard.

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    Old Hermit

    Script:

    There was once an old hermit who lived at the top of a densely forested mountain village. The old hermit seldom went down to the city, because each time he did, people stared and gawked at him, which made him uncomfortable and sad. The old hermit was not of ordinary appearance. He was odd looking . He never shaved and he wore the same old dirty and ragged clothes every day. His legs were bent and crooked. But perhaps the most striking feature of the old hermit was his head. It was.............

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    Peter Rabbit By Beatrix Potter

    Script:

    Peter was sitting by himself. He looked poorly, and was dressed in a red cotton pocket-handkerchief. “Peter,” -- said little Benjamin, in a whisper -- “who has got your clothes?” Peter replied -- “The scarecrow in Mr. McGregor’s garden,” and described how he had been chased about the garden, and had dropped his shoes and coat. Little Benjamin sat down beside his cousin, and assured him that Mr. McGregor had gone out in a gig, and Mrs. McGregor also; and certainly for the day, because she was wearing her best bonnet.

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    Piggie Pie By Margie Palatini

    Script:

    Gritch the Witch woke up grouchy, grumpy, and very hungry. Her belly grumbled for something delicious. Something delightful. Something special. But what? It wasn’t purple mouse-tail stew. No, she ate that yesterday for lunch. Maybe some mashed dragon-tongue pudding? No, Gritch wasn’t in the mood for anything quite that sweet. Perhaps a taste of boiled buzzard feet? That always made her mouth water. No, not today. Today, Gritch wanted something truly tasty. Something really yummy. Something SPECIAL! And that could only mean….PIGGIE PIE! “Yes, yes, Piggie Pie! I can taste those plump, juicy, pink piggies right now,” Gritch said smacking her lips.

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    Pinkle Purr

    Script:

    Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
    a ridiculous kitten with silky fur.

    Little black Pinkle grew and grew
    till he got as big as big Tattoo.

    And all that he did he did with her.
    Right by her side was Pinkle Purr.

    But adventure would get in his eye,
    And before you knew it off he'd fly.

    He no longer clung to his mother Tattoo.
    But this she knew about him too.

    He'll be one less kitten to keep in toe.
    Set him on the road and off he'll go.

    Rewritten and contributed by Richurd

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    Ramona's World

    Script:

    Ramona Quimby was nine years old. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and no cavities. She had a mother, a father, a big sister named Beatrice, who was called Beezus by the family, and, this was the exciting part, a baby sister named Roberta, after her father, Robert Quimby. "Look at her tiny fingernails," Ramona marveled as she looked at the sleeping Roberta, "and her little eyebrows. She's already a whole person, only little!" Ramona couldn't wait for the first day of school, so she could spread the news about her baby sister. That day finally came. It was a warm September day, and Ramona, neat and clean, with lunch bag in hand, half-skipped, half-hopped, scrunching through dry leaves on the sidewalk. She was early, she knew, but Ramona was the sort of girl who was always early, because…

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    10 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear mckenziesulli's recording

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-53833/script-recording-63276.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    would be awesome for audio books. audio quality is not the best but certainly not worst.

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    15 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear mckenziesulli's recording

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-53833/script-recording-63277.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Very good performance with your pacing, clarity, and inflection! Recording quality was good. Sounds like you would do well in this genre.

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    The Frog Prince Exerpt

    Script:

    Once upon a time there was an evil witch who cast a spell on a handsome young prince, simply because he refused to marry her daughter. She waved her wand and said "you will remain a frog until a beautiful princess kisses you… Or until the end of time… Whichever comes first. Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha." And the young prince was transformed into a frog.

    48 people have played this

    Paid Job Recording:

    Click to hear TedVoInSpain's recording

    I have been kind of busy, but wanted to share 3 excerpts of a recent project. It's an adaptation of "The Frog Prince" for an interactive children's book. The artwork on the project is so beautiful as well. This was the intro, again trying to attract and retain the attention of a young wide eyed audience. Thanks for listening! Nodo420 Note 1, The artwork is a mid 30's, quite attractive, yet ultimately evil witch. I was trying for that annoyed witch sound :)

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-8990/script-recording-33355.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    Ted, cool laugh! And the transitioning from narrator to characters is smooth and effortless. I think it sounds great!

    Peer Feedback:

    You sound as though you speaking to children...no, wait, you are.
    ;-)
    NIce job. requires some acting chops, (which I have none of), so it's nice to see it done.

    Cheers, Nodo. nicely done.
    DS.

    Peer Feedback:

    Ted I listened to all 3 and I have to say if I had kids and was perusing audio books for kids and listened to this sample I would have bought. Nice acting and good production quality! On the first recording Javier was right about the word "yuck" it needed more distaste kinda like a kid trying brocholi for the first time.

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks for all the feedback! You know, looking back at the "Yuck" part, I think what I was looking at is a young girl, who now faced with the realization that she is going to have to KISS this bugger... and she is thinking it.

    Great suggestions all around! I'll let you know when it hits iTunes. If you want to look at the artwork... http://cartitadesign.com/

    It's stunning! Thanks again for listening and taking time to comment!

    Peer Feedback:

    Excellent work! I am going to play it for my kids and ask their opinion.
    I particularly liked "time" in "end of time" and the laugh.

    Peer Feedback:

    I thought this was great! You sound friendly in the beginning like Mr Rogers and children like that kind of thing. Pacing on this is excellent by the way.

    Peer Feedback:

    Great tone on this and wonderful laugh!

    Keep up the great work.

    All the best,

    Scott

    Peer Feedback:

    Thanks BT, Stephanie and Scott... You know, when I was looking at the script for the witch, it said "You will be turned into a frog until a princess kisses you..." and I had some latitude with the script and I added the "or until the end of time..." I was thinking about Meryl Streep in Death Becomes Her, and also "The Devil Wears Prada..." she would say it like that! :) hahaha. It was fun

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    75 people have played this

    Practice Recording:

    Click to hear April D's recording

    I am new at this and would like feedback both good and bad. Thanks

    /sites/default/files/script-recordings/user-109999/script-recording-86421.mp3

    Peer Feedback:

    You might be too far away from the mic. and your recording space is very live. It sounded like you recorded this in a tiled bathroom or hallway. Very echo-y.

    The pacing is a little brisk. Not fast, but the spaces in between the the different images are kind of missing - the words just seem to run into one another

    Do you see the images in your mind as you read the words?

    Take the time to process what they are and where your character is, seeing, moving through and experiencing. What emotion is the character feeling as she looks at this mirage? Disbelief? Confusion? Even from a third person narrative, the narrator can reflect those senses and emotions in a less detached way - even as an observer.

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    Savannah's Bad Day

    Script:

    I’m sure glad I don’t live in the grown up world, thought Savannah, as she trudged to the bus stop. It was only Tuesday, but it felt like Monday all over again. Savannah had already dropped her books all over the place, and when she went to dive for them couldn’t get up. That’s how slippery her winter parka was. Before that, she had missed breakfast. And before that, she found her homework eaten by the family’s new dog, Nani. Of course, Nani was just being a big puppy. But how had she reached Savannah’s homework? It was anybody’s guess, because Savannah thought she had stuffed her homework into her backpack.

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    Sly Little Bear By Kathryn B. Jackson

    Script:

    Once there was a little bear who didn’t like to take a bath. When his mother said, “It’s Saturday, Little Bear, so go on in and take your bath,” he didn’t. He ran the water and took off his clothes. He sat down on the floor and flipped one paw in the water, back and forth, back and forth -- as if he were washing all nice and clean. Then he dried his paw and got dressed in his clean clothes, and came out. He thought he was pretty smart, that sly little bear! But one day his mother took a good look at him at inspection time. She even put on her glasses and took a better look. Then she said, “Little Bear, you look pretty dirty for a little bear who takes a bath every Saturday. It seems to me that you’d better take one every day of the week.” And after that, he did.

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    Sneezles

    Script:

    Christopher Robin had wheezles and sneezles, they bundled him into his bed. They gave him what goes with a cold in the nose, and some more for a cold in the head. They wondered if wheezles could turn into measles, if sneezles would turn into mumps; they examined his chest for a rash, and the rest of his body for swellings and lumps. They sent for some doctors in sneezles and wheezles to tell them what ought to be done. All sorts and conditions of famous physicians came hurrying round in a run. They all made a note of the state of his throat, they asked if he suffered from thirst; they asked if the sneezles came after the wheezles, or if the first sneezle came first.

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    Tales From Watership Down

    Script:

    Soon after sunrise on a perfect summer morning, Hazel came out of his burrow through the honeycomb and into the fresh air of the down. Dusk and dawn are activity times for rabbits, and already a number were grazing in twos and threes on the slope and out along the crest, paying almost no attention even to one another as they foraged through the short grass. It was a peaceful scene, and the rabbits, knowing that they had no danger to fear, were absorbed in the enjoyment of feeding in the early sunshine.

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    Teddy II

    Script:

    Teddy was a good dog. Teddy was a smart dog. Smart enough to look both ways before crossing the street. We had Teddy from a pup, and we loved him as much as he loved us. Teddy was our pet. A full-blooded Shepherd, he was a natural protector, in fact...he ended up in the Army, but I'm getting way ahead of my story.

    Mr. Boney owned the general store. He was a large, older, grumpy man. "I won't get no customers wit dat dog out dere !" he'd shout, but our town was so small, there really were no customers for Teddy to scare away. We never knew that Mr. Boney really did like us, especially my brothers. Just before leaving town, as I was putting gas in the car, I remember him saying: "Ah shore misses dem boyses." I stood there with my mouth open, shocked. My five brothers would be even more shocked than I was.

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    The 7 Habits of Healthy Kids (Covey and Curtis): Goob and the Bug-Collecting Kit

    Script:

    (Script Notes: Goob is a friendly bear who loves the outdoors and all kinds of bugs. Jumper is a rabbit who loves to play sports of all kinds.)

    Goob was walking by Tootle’s Toy Store when he saw a bug-collecting kit in the window. It was on sale for four dollars.
    “Wow!” said Goob. “I’ve wanted a kit like that for a loooong time. But I don’t have four dollars. I need to earn it. I need to come up with a plan.”
    Goob went home and wrote out a list.

    Goob’s Goals
    1. Save some $
    2. Buy Bug-Collecting Kit
    3. Buy present for Allie’s birthday.
    4. Buy pizza with honey on top.
    5. Go to movie.

    Just then, Jumper stopped by. “What’s that, Goob?”
    “I’m making a list of things I want to do,” said Goob.
    “Wow! Can I be part of your game plan?” asked Jumper.
    “Sure,” said Goob. “I have a great idea--let’s sell lemonade. It’s really hot out and folks will want a cold drink.”
    That afternoon, Goob and Jumper set up their lemonade stand.

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    The Adventures Of Mark Twain

    Script:

    The town revolved around the river. In summer, when the blazing sun beat down, it dozed under the weight of the sultry days. On Main Street, a sow and her litter of pigs might root along the wooden sidewalk, sharing the deeply rutted roadway with foraging hens and a hound languidly scratching his fleas. None of them gave ground when wagons, drawn by plodding farm teams, creaked by on their way to market. On Water Street, clerks in the stores listlessly awaited buyers for butter at six cents a pound, sugar and coffee at five cents, eggs at three cents a dozen, native corn whiskey at ten cents a gallon.

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    The Boy Who Wouldn’t Go To Sleep

    Script:

    This is Adam. Adam is just like all other children most ways. Adam likes to go to school. Adam likes to play with his friends. Adam likes to go places with his big brother, Bret. Adam loves to play with his kitten, Smitty. And Adam loves to visit the neighbor’s farm and feed carrots to the horses. Yes, Adam is just like most children, except Adam never sleeps!!! “I don’t want to go to bed!” Adam cried angrily at his mommy. “I want to stay up!” “But Adam,” his mommy sighed, “It’s past bedtime, and it is dark outside. All the other children are in their beds asleep.” “I don’t care,” shouted Adam. “I’m not going to bed and I’m not going to sleep because I don’t want to.”

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    The Cat In The Hat Comes Back By Dr Seuss

    Script:

    There was no time for play. There was no time for fun. There was no times for games. There was work to be done. All that deep, deep, deep snow. All that snow had to go. When our mother went down to the town for the day, she said , “Somebody has to clean all this away. Somebody, SOMEBODY has to, you see.” Then she picked out two somebodies. Sally and me. Well... There we were. We were working like that. And then who should come up but the CAT IN THE HAT!

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    The Golden Compass

    Script:

    Lyra and her daemon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that ran the length of the hall were laid already, the silver and the glass catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled out ready for the guests. Portraits of former Masters hung high up in the gloom along the walls. Lyra reached the dais and looked back at the open kitchen door, and, seeing no one, stepped up beside the high table. The places here were laid with gold, not silver, and the fourteen seats were not oak benches but mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.

    Lyra stopped beside the Master's chair and flicked the biggest glass gently with a fingernail. The sound rang clearly through the hall.

    "You're not taking this seriously," whispered her daemon. "Behave yourself."

    Her daemon's name was Pantalaimon, and he was currently in the form of a moth.

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    The Google Book

    Script:

    Far...far away, the Google lives, in a land which only children can go to. It is a wonderful land full of funny flowers, and birds, and hills of pure white heather. The Google has a beautiful garden which is guarded night and day. All through the day he sleeps in a pool of water in the center of the garden; but when night comes, he slowly crawls out of the pool and silently prowls around for food. All the birds try to avoid the Google, because they don’t like him and he frightens them; but some of them he can never catch, especially those with the red beaks. You can never see these birds anywhere except in Google land, which is far away, and only children can go there; and even they must be nearly -- but not quite -- asleep.

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    The Island (Prince Caspian, Chapter One)

    Script:

    Once, there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy, and it has been told in another book called "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" how they had a remarkable adventure. They had opened the door of a magic wardrobe and found themselves in a world quite different from ours, and in that different world, they had become Kings and Queens in a country called Narnia. While they were in Narnia they seemed to reign for years and years; but when they came back through the door and found themselves in England again, it all seemed to have taken no time at all. At any rate, no one noticed that they had ever been away, and they never told anyone except one very wise grown-up.

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    The Jungle Book

    Script:

    Many strange legends are told of these jungles of India. But none
    so strange as the story of a small boy named Mowgli. It all began
    when the silence of the jungle was broken by an unfamiliar sound.

    It was a sound like one never heard before in this part of the jungle.

    It..... was a man-cub. Had I known how deeply I was to be involved, I would
    have obeyed my first impulse and walked away.

    This man-cub would have to have nourishment, and soon. It was many days
    travel to the nearest man-village and.... without a mother's care, he would
    soon perish. Then it occurred to me.

    A family of wolves I knew had been blessed with a litter of cubs

    Why, there'd be no problem with the mother, thanks to maternal
    instinct, but.... I wasn't so sure about Rama, the father.

    Ten times the rains have come and gone. And I often stopped by to see
    how Mowgli, the man-cub, was getting along. He was a favorite with
    all the young wolf cubs of the pack.

    No man-cub was ever happier. And yet... I knew that.... someday.... he would
    have to go back to his own kind.

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    The Mice In Council

    Script:

    Once upon a time, the mice, feeling constantly in danger from a cat, resolved to call a meeting to decide upon the best means of getting rid of this continual annoyance. Many plans were discussed and rejected. At last, a young mouse got up and proposed that a bell should be hung around the cat’s neck. This proposition was hailed with the greatest applause, and unanimous agreement. Upon which an old mouse got up and said that he considered the plan most ingenious, and that it would, no doubt, solve their problem. But he had one question to ask: Which one of them was going to put the bell around the cat’s neck?

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    The Mole

    Script:

    The mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; ‘til he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said “Bother!” and “O blow!” and also “Hang spring cleaning!”

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    The Notorious Jumping Frog Of Calaveras County

    Script:

    The feller took the box again, and took another long, particular look, and give it back to Smiley, and says, very deliberate, “Well,” he says, “I don’t see no p’ints about that frog that’s any better’n any other frog.” “Maybe you don’t,” Smiley says. “Maybe you understand frogs and maybe you don’t understand ‘em; maybe you’ve had experience, and maybe you ain’t only an amateur, as it were. Anyways, I’ve got my opinion, and I’ll resk forty dollars that he can outjump any frog in Calaveras county.”

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    The Old Woman

    Script:

    There was an old woman, as I’ve heard tell, she went to market her eggs for to sell; she went to market all on a market day; and she fell asleep on the king’s highway. There came by a peddler whose name was Stout, he cut her petticoats all round about; he cut her petticoats up to the knees, which made the old woman to shiver and freeze. When this woman first did wake, she began to shiver and she began to shake. She began to wonder and she began to cry, “Lauk-a- mercy on me, this is none of I. But if it be I, as I do hope it be, I’ve a little dog at home, and he’ll know me; if it be I, he’ll wag his little tail, and if it be not I, he’ll loudly bark and wail!”

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    The Rat

    Script:

    “Ratty,” said the Mole suddenly one bright summer morning, “if you please, I want to ask you a favour.” The Rat was sitting on the river bank, singing a little song. He had just composed it himself, so he was very taken up with it, and would not pay proper attention to the Mole or anything else. Since early morning he had been swimming in the river, in company with his friends the ducks. And when the ducks stood on their heads suddenly, as ducks will, he would dive down and tickle their necks, just under where their chins would be if ducks had chins, ‘til they were forced to come to the surface again in a hurry, spluttering and angry and shaking their feathers at him, for it is impossible to say quite all you feel when your head is underwater.

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    The Velveteen Rabbit By Margery Williams

    Script:

    Nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin-Horse understand all about it. “What is real?” asked the rabbit one day. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?” “Real isn’t how you’re made,” said the Skin-Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time ... not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become real.”

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    The Velveteen Rabbit By Margery Williams 2

    Script:

    There once was a Velveteen Rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy’s stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.

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    The Wind In The Willows By Kenneth Grahame

    Script:

    They waited patiently for what seemed a very long time, stamping in the snow to keep their feet warm. At last they heard the sound of slow shuffling footsteps approaching the door from the inside. It seemed, as the Mole remarked to the Rat, like some one walking in carpet slippers that were too large for him and down at the heel; which was intelligent of Mole, because that was exactly what it was. There was the noise of a bolt shot back, and the door opened a few inches, enough to show a long snout and a pair of sleepy blinking eyes. “Now, the very next time this happens,” said a gruff and suspicious voice, “I shall be exceedingly angry.”

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    The Wolf And The Crane

    Script:

    A wolf devoured his prey so ravenously that a bone stuck in his throat, giving him great pain. He ran howling up and down, and offered to reward handsomely anyone who would pull it out. A crane, moved by pity as well as by the prospect of money, undertook the dangerous task. Having removed the bone, he asked for the promised reward. “Reward!” cried the wolf. “Pray, you greedy fellow, what reward can you possibly require? You have had your head in my mouth, and instead of biting it off, I have let you pull it out unharmed. Count yourself lucky, you insolent bird, and don’t ever come within reach of my paw!”

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    The Wolf And The Seven Little Kids

    Script:

    There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and she loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day she wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called all seven to her and said: "Dear children, I have to go into the forest, be on your guard against the wolf; if he comes in, he will devour you all - skin, hair and everything. The wretch often disguises himself, but you will know him at once by his rough voice and his black feet.". The kids said: "Dear mother, we will take good care of oursleves; you may go away without any anxiety.". Then the old one bleated, and went on her way with an easy mind.

    It was not long before someone knocked at the house-door and called: "Open the door, dear children; your mother is here, and has brought something back for each of you." But the little kids knew that it was the wolf, by the rough voice. "We will not open the door." they cried. "You are not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice, but your voice is rough; you are the wolf!". Then the wolf went away to a shopkeeper and boutht himself a great lump of chalk, ate this and made his voice soft with it.

    Then he came back, knocked at the door of the house and called: "Open the door, dear children, your mother is here and has brought something back with her for each of you." But the wolf had laid his black paws against the window and the children saw them and cried: "We will not open the door, our mother has not black feet like you. You are the wolf!"

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    The Wonderful Tar Baby Story

    Script:

    "Didn't the fox never catch the rabbit, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy the next evening.

    "He come mighty nigh it, honey, sho's you born--Brer Fox did. One day atter Brer Rabbit fool 'im wid dat calamus root, Brer Fox went ter wuk en got 'im some tar, en mix it wid some turkentime, en fix up a contrapshun w'at he call a Tar-Baby, en he tuck dish yer Tar-Baby en he sot 'er in de big road, en den he lay off in de bushes fer to see what de news wuz gwine ter be. En he didn't hatter wait long, nudder, kaze bimeby here come Brer Rabbit pacin' down de road--lippity-clippity, clippity -lippity--dez ez sassy ez a jay-bird. Brer Fox, he lay low. Brer Rabbit come prancin' 'long twel he spy de Tar-Baby, en den he fotch up on his behime legs like he wuz 'stonished. De Tar Baby, she sot dar, she did, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

    "`Mawnin'!' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee - `nice wedder dis mawnin',' sezee.

    "Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox he lay low.

    "`How duz yo' sym'tums seem ter segashuate?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

    "Brer Fox, he wink his eye slow, en lay low, en de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'.

    "'How you come on, den? Is you deaf?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Kaze if you is, I kin holler louder,' sezee.

    "Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

    "'You er stuck up, dat's w'at you is,' says Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'en I;m gwine ter kyore you, dat's w'at I'm a gwine ter do,' sezee.

    "Brer Fox, he sorter chuckle in his stummick, he did, but Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nothin'.

    "'I'm gwine ter larn you how ter talk ter 'spectubble folks ef hit's de las' ack,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Ef you don't take off dat hat en tell me howdy, I'm gwine ter bus' you wide open,' sezee.

    "Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

    "Brer Rabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, she keep on sayin' nothin', twel present'y Brer Rabbit draw back wid his fis', he did, en blip he tuck 'er side er de head. Right dar's whar he broke his merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull loose. De tar hilt 'im. But Tar-Baby, she stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

    "`Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you agin,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, en wid dat he fotch 'er a wipe wid de udder han', en dat stuck. Tar-Baby, she ain'y sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox, he lay low.

    "`Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de natal stuffin' outen you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'. She des hilt on, en de Brer Rabbit lose de use er his feet in de same way. Brer Fox, he lay low. Den Brer Rabbit squall out dat ef de Tar-Baby don't tu'n 'im loose he butt 'er cranksided. En den he butted, en his head got stuck. Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', lookin' dez ez innercent ez wunner yo' mammy's mockin'-birds.

    "`Howdy, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. `You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin',' sezee, en den he rolled on de groun', en laft en laft twel he couldn't laff no mo'. `I speck you'll take dinner wid me dis time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some calamus root, en I ain't gwineter take no skuse,' sez Brer Fox, sezee."

    Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound yam out of the ashes.

    "Did the fox eat the rabbit?" asked the little boy to whom the story had been told.

    "Dat's all de fur de tale goes," replied the old man. "He mout, an den agin he moutent. Some say Judge B'ar come 'long en loosed 'im - some say he didn't. I hear Miss Sally callin'. You better run 'long."

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    Waiting At The Window

    Script:

    These are my two drops of rain. Waiting on the window-pane. I am waiting here to see. Which the winning one will be. Both of them have different names. One is John and one is James. All the best and all the worst. Comes from which of them is first. James has just begun to ooze. He's the one I want to lose. John is waiting to begin. He's the one I want to win. James is going slowly on. Something sort of stick s to John. John is moving off at last. James is going pretty fast. John is rushing down the pane. James is going slow again. James has met a sort of smear. John is getting very near. Is he going fast enough? James has found a piece of fluff. John has hurried quickly by. James was talking to a fly. John is there, and John has won! Look! I told you! Here's the sun!

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    Wee Witches Halloween By Jerry Smath

    Script:

    On Halloween, wee witches hatch from pumpkins in this pumpkin patch. Before their spree, there is one rule: They first must go to Scaring School. In class, the older witches teach the younger ones just how to screech. When school is over, the witches are free to scare us all on their Halloween spree.

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    Who’s At The Playground?

    Script:

    One day, Elmo and Zoe hurried to the playground in hopes of finding an open swing. It was quite early in the morning, so they thought they would be first. They were in for a big surprise. There, on the good ol’ Sesame Street playground, were five most unusual animals. A toucan with a long, colorful beak fluttered from swing to swing. A big, hairy camel tried to fit itself into the tiny sandbox. A wild goat, with two large horns, climbed and slipped on the slide. A long-legged crab and a turtle flopped about in the water fountain.

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    Wind in the Willows Short

    Script:

    Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.

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    Winnie The Pooh 2

    Script:

    When Pooh saw what it was, he nearly fell down, he was so pleased. It was a Special Pencil Case. There were pencils in it marked “B” for Bear, and pencils marked “HB” for Helping Bear, and pencils marked “BB” for Brave Bear. There was a knife for sharpening the pencils, and india-rubber for rubbing out anything which you had spelt wrong, and a ruler for ruling lines for the words to walk on, and inches marked on the ruler in case you wanted to know how many inches anything was, and Blue Pencils and Red Pencils and Green Pencils for saying special things in blue and red and green. And all these lovely things were in little pockets of their own in a Special Case which shut with a click when you clicked it. And they were all for Pooh.

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