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The Voice Over Practice Script Library

Script Genres > English Children > Narration > Audiobook

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Abiyoyo

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.

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Aesop's Fables

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

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

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

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

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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Brer Bear An De Bag Full Of Turkeys

 THE BOY WHO WOULDN’T GO TO SLEEP

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Chanticleer And The Fox By Geoffrey Chaucer And Barbara Cooney

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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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Gray Day On Sesame Street

Big Bird was taking pictures of the neighborhood. In the playground, he spotted The Amazing Mumford sitting under a tree. “Smile, Mumford!” called Big Bird. “I’ll take your picture.” Mumford smiled, but the camera didn’t click. Big Bird had used up all his film. “I can help.” said Mumford. “I can zap you some beautiful color pictures of Sesame Street.” “How can you do that, Mumford?” Big Bird asked. “Just watch.” And Mumford waved his magic wand one, two, three times in the air and said: “A la peanut butter sandwiches rainbow wackadoo!” Poof! Suddenly, colorful pictures of Sesame Street started rolling out of Big Bird’s camera. There were pictures of 123 Sesame Street, Hooper’s Store, The Furry Arms, Finder’s Keepers, and more.

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Gulliver’s Travels By Jonathan Swift

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

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

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

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

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

“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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Lyle And The Birthday Party By Bernard Waber 2

It was Joshua’s birthday. The Primms were happily busy with party preparations. Lyle the Crocodile, who lived with them, was busy too. And as usual, Lyle was being helpful. Parties were fun. He wished he could have one. He’d have colorful streamers, and big balloons, and a delicious cake. The more Lyle thought about it, the more he too wanted a birthday party. “Why shouldn’t I have birthday party?” he asked himself. “I was born, wasn’t I?” Suddenly, Lyle was very jealous of Joshua’s soon-to-be-celebrated birthday party. Lyle didn’t want to be jealous. It felt awful, in fact. Besides, he loved Joshua.

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Mary Poppins Opens The Door

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

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

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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Max Makes A Million By Maira Kalman

In walked Ivan Kazlinsky, the arch rival of Leon Kampinsky. “Ah, Max,” sneered Ivan, “still writing those stupid little poems that nobody likes? Bring me a drink why don¹t you.” I was ready to rip the pointy beard right off his face. I was ready to give his ugly pants a bite so big, he would be wearing shorts. But instead I looked him in the eye and said “Ha!”

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Mister Fox And The Grapes

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

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 Father’s Dragon By Ruth Stiles Gannett

The wind changed and the dragon could only hear confused sounds of talking, but the men seemed to be deciding who would stay and who would go.

“They’ll fiind me for sure if I stay here, and I don’t want to trap myself too, Thought the dragon. “Daylight or no, I’d better fly and get Elmer. He’ll know what to do, if we can get back in time.”

Quickly he fitted the snapdragon roots over the tunnel hole, arranging them carefully so they wouldn’t look newly dug-up. Then, keeping close to the ground, he crept through the green meadows and up, up, up to the gap between the mountain peaks.

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my grandmother asked me to tell you she's sorry

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

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

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

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

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

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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Round Bird Can’t Fly By Lea Mcandrews

Round bird is not like other birds, he has a big round body with little wings. He cannot fly but, he wants to play with the other birds more than anything. Everyday and in many ways, he tries to fly, then he tries again. But nothing worked. Then he thought it might be better to use the tree. Round bird is determined to fly.

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Savannah's Bad Day

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

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

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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Space-rider

"Right here. I have a story to tell. Me me me! Last night I decided I was going to go to see the stars. So I jumped into my space ship. I buckled myself in (buckle noise), I put on my helmet, and I pushed all of the buttons (button noise). And then (space ship take off noise) woo hoo, I was on my way!"

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Tales From Watership Down

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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Tales Of A Fourth Grade Nothing By Judy Blume

The worst thing about Sheila is the way she’s always trying to touch me. And when she does she yells, “Peter’s got the cooties!” I don’t believe in cooties anymore. When I was in second grade I used to examine myself to see if I had them. But I never found any. By fourth grade most kids give up on cooties. But not Sheila. She’s still going strong. So I have to keep a safe distance from her.

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Teddy II

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 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

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

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

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 Frog And The Ox By Aesop

Many years ago there was a magnificent ox. One day, when he was taking an afternoon stroll he attracted the attention of a drably dressed, thoroughly insignificant frog. Staring enviously at the splendid ox, the frog called out to his friends, “Look at the size of this fellow! He cuts a fine figure -- but no finer than I could if I tried.” With that he started to puff himself up, and quickly swelled to twice his normal size. “Am I now as big as our friend here?” he asked the other frogs; but they replied that he would have to do a great deal better that. The frog puffed himself up some more, before asking the same question again.

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The Golden Compass

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

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 Hare And The Tortoise

One day a hare was boasting of his running speed and laughing at the tortoise for being so slow. Much to the hare’s surprise, the tortoise challenged him to a race. The hare, looking on the whole affair as a great joke, readily consented. The fox was selected to act as umpire, and hold the stakes. The race began and the hare, of course, soon left the tortoise far behind. Having reached the halfway point, and the day being warm, the hare decided to stop and play awhile. He then took a nap in a shady spot, thinking that if the tortoise passed him while he slept, he could easily overtake him before he reached the finish.

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The Island (Prince Caspian, Chapter One)

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

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 Lion In Love

A lion once fell in love with a woodman’s daughter, an asked for her hand in marriage. The woodman was not much pleased with the offer, and declined the honor of so dangerous an alliance. When the lion became threatening, the man cunningly pretended to give in, saying, “I am honored, sir. But what great teeth and claws you have -- enough to frighten any girl! If you are to marry my daughter you must have your teeth drawn and your claws cut.” The love-struck lion complied straightaway, and then called upon the father to accept him as a son-in-law.

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The Little Engine That Could

Chug, chug, chug, puff, puff, puff, ding dong, ding dong. The little train rumbled over the tracks. She was a happy little train, for she had such a jolly load to carry. Her cars were filled full of good little things for boys and girls. There were toy animals -- giraffes with long necks, teddy bears with almost no necks at all, and even a baby elephant. Then there were dolls -- dolls with blue eyes and yellow curls, dolls with brown eyes and brown bobbed heads, and the funniest little clown you ever saw. And there were cars full of toy engines, airplanes, tops, jackknives, picture puzzles, and every kind of thing boys or girls could want.

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The Marigold Monster by M.C. Delaney

Audrey loved to tell corny jokes, she told them all the time.

She loved to tell them to her father, who would roll his eyes and groan.

She loved to tell them to her mother, who would wail, “Oh, Audrey, where did I go wrong?”

She loved to tell them to her brother, Randolph. Randolph would moan, “I don’t know you.”

“Want to hear a really good joke?” she would ask anyone she met. No one ever did.

One day Audrey saw an ad in a comic book. It said: Make Friends! Make Big Money! Sell Marigold Seeds!

She wrote to the company, got the seeds, and went from door to door asking people if they wanted to buy marigold seeds. Nobody did. After knocking on every door in the neighborhood, she had sold only one packet of marigold seeds - - to her mother.

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The Mice In Council

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

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

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

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 Peacock’s Complaint

A peacock was discontented with his ugly voice, and he went to the goddess Juno to complain about it. “It’s true that you cannot sing,” said the goddess, “but your great beauty more than makes up for it.” But the peacock was not to be consoled. “What is the use of beauty,” he asked, “with a voice like mine?” Now Juno grew impatient. “Each has his destined gift: you have beauty, the eagle strength, the nightingale song. Yet you alone are dissatisfied. Complain no more. If your present wish were granted, you would only find some other grievance.”

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The Rat

“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 Sleep Monster

One Tuesday night, seven-year-old Nick Dunn dreamed he was being chased by a green monster. Nick tried to run. But the faster he ran, the slower he went. Suddenly, the monster grabbed him with his slimy hands -- Nick woke up yelling. He kept yelling until his mother hurried into his bedroom.

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The Story Of Doctor Dolittle By Hugh Lofting

Once upon a time, many years ago -- when our grandfathers were little children -- there was a doctor, and his name was Dolittle -- John Dolittle, M.D. “M.D.” means that he was a proper doctor and knew a whole lot. He lived in a little town called Puddleby-on-the-Marsh. All the folks, young and old, knew him well by sight. And whenever he walked down the street in his high hat everyone would say, “There goes the Doctor! -- He’s a clever man.” And the dogs and the children would all run up and follow behind him; and even the crows that lived in the church-tower would caw and nod their heads. The house he lived in, on the edge of town, was quite small; but his garden was very large and had a wide lawn and stone seats and weeping willows hanging over.

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The Velveteen Rabbit By Margery Williams

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

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 Water Rat

The Water Rat was restless, and he did not exactly know why. To all appearances the summer’s pomp was still at fullest height, and although in the tilled acres green had given way to gold, though rowans were reddening, and the woods were dashed here and there with a tawny fierceness, yet light and warmth and colour were still present in undiminished measure, clean of any chilly premonitions of the passing year. But the constant chorus of the orchards and hedges had shrunk to a casual evensong from a few yet unwearied performers; the robin was beginning to assert himself once more; and there was a feeling in the air of change and departure.

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The Wind In The Willows By Kenneth Grahame

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

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

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

"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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Three Is Company

“Being the only little fish in the fishpond isn’t exactly fun, you know.” “Mommy and Daddy are here, Harold,” said Harold’s parents. “But if I had a playmate my own age, I’d have a lot more fun.” “Well, there aren’t any little fish your age in the fishpond Harold, but you can still have fun.” “Phooey.” “But Harold, it’s true.” “What kind of fun?” “Well, let’s see ... you can tickle the ducks with bubbles.” “Yes, but if I had playmates, it would be twice as much fun.” “And you’ve always loved tangling up the fisherman’s lines. And you know you just love leaping in and out of the water.” “Yes, but if I had a playmate, it would be even more fun.” “Be patient, Harold.”

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Waiting At The Window

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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Watership Down

In the darkness and warmth of the burrow Hazel suddenly woke , struggling and kicking with his back legs. Something was attacking him. There was no smell of ferret or weasel. No instinct told him to run. His head cleared and he realized he was alone except for Fiver. It was Fiver who was clambering all over him, clawing and grabbing like a rabbit trying to climb a wire fence in a panic. “Fiver! Fiver, wake up , you silly fellow! It’s Hazel. You’ll hurt me in a moment. Wake up!” He held him down. Fiver struggled and woke.

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Wee Witches Halloween By Jerry Smath

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?

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

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

While all this was happening, Piglet had gone back to his own house to get Eeyore’s balloon. He held it very tightly against himself, so that it shouldn’t blow away, and he ran as fast as he could so as to get to Eeyore before Pooh did; for he thought that he would like to be the first one to give a present, just as if he had thought of it without being told by anybody. And running along, and thinking how pleased Eeyore would be, he didn’t look where he was going ... and suddenly he put his foot in a rabbit hole, and fell down flat on his face.

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Winnie The Pooh 2

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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