My Shadow

My Shadow is a very nice poem about the something that will always be beside you. That is your shadow. It can sometime be mischievous and even makes fun of you. It’s sometimes really big and sometimes you can’t even see him!

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,

And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.

He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;

And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow–

Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;

For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India-rubber ball,

And he sometimes goes so little that there’s none of him at all.

He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,

And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

He stays so close behind me, he’s a coward you can see;

I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,

I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;

But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

The Larks in the Cornfield

The Larks in the Cornfield is a very good moral story which teaches us something very important in life, that is, if we ever want something to be done, make sure we do it ourselves. Because if we wait for others to do it, it will never happen.

There was once a family of little Larks who lived with their mother in a nest in a cornfield. When the corn was ripe the mother Lark watched very carefully to see if there were any sign of the reapers’ coming, for she knew that when they came their sharp knives would cut down the nest and hurt the baby Larks. So every day, when she went out for food, she told the little Larks to look and listen very closely to everything that went on, and to tell her all they saw and heard when she came home.

One day when she came home the little Larks were much frightened.

“Oh, Mother, dear Mother,” they said, “You must move us away to-night! The farmer was in the field to-day, and he said, `The corn is ready to cut; we must call in the neighbors to help.’ And then he told his son to go out to-night and ask all the neighbors to come and reap the corn to-morrow.”

The mother Lark laughed. ”Don’t be afraid,” she said; “if he waits for his neighbors to reap the corn we shall have plenty of time to move; tell me what he says to-morrow.”

The next night the little Larks were quite trembling with fear; the moment their mother got home they cried out, “Mother, you must surely move us to-night! The farmer came to-day and said, `The corn is getting too ripe; we cannot wait for our neighbors; we must ask our relatives to help us.’ And then he called his son and told him to ask all the uncles and cousins to come to-morrow and cut the corn. Shall we move to-night?”

“Don’t worry,” said the mother Lark; “the uncles and cousins have plenty of reaping to do for themselves; we’ll not move yet.”

The third night, when the mother Lark came home, the baby Larks said, “Mother, dear, the farmer came to the field to-day, and when he looked at the corn he was quite angry; he said, `This will never do! The corn is getting too ripe; it’s no use to wait for our relatives, we shall have to cut this corn ourselves.’ And then he called his son and said, `Go out to-night and hire reapers, and to-morrow we will begin to cut.’”

“Well,” said the mother, “that is another story; when a man begins to do his own business, instead of asking somebody else to do it, things get done. I will move you out to-night.”

My Bed is a Boat

This is a short poem about a little boy’s bed and how it became a boat whenever he goes to bed.

My bed is like a little boat;

Nurse helps me in when I embark;

She girds me in my sailor’s coat

And starts me in the dark.

At night I go on board and say

Good-night to all my friends on shore;

I shut my eyes and sail away

And see and hear no more.

And sometimes things to bed I take,

As prudent sailors have to do;

Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake,

Perhaps a toy or two.

All night across the dark we steer;

But when the day returns at last,

Safe in my room beside the pier,

I find my vessel fast.

The Fox and the Crow

The fox and the crow tells us a story about how sly a fox can be when it comes to getting their food. The moral of the story as you read is that you should not trust flatterers. They are just there to flatter you and they don’t mean what they say.

A Fox once saw a Crow fly off with a piece of cheese in its beak and settle on a branch of a tree.

“That’s for me, as I am a Fox,” said Master Reynard, and he walked up to the foot of the tree.

“Good-day, Mistress Crow,” he cried. “How well you are looking to-day: how glossy your feathers; how bright your eye. I feel sure your voice must surpass that of other birds, just as your figure does; let me hear but one song from you that I may greet you as the Queen of Birds.”

The Crow lifted up her head and began to caw her best, but the moment she opened her mouth the piece of cheese fell to the ground, only to be snapped up by Master Fox.

“That will do,” said he. “That was all I wanted. In exchange for your cheese I will give you a piece of advice for the future:

“Do not trust flatterers.”

An Old man and his Five Sons

This story tells about an old man and how he managed to discipline his five sons to work together. The moral of the story is if you stick together as a family, no one will ever be able to break through your strong bonds and ties.

In a small village far away from the town, there lived an old man and his five sons. His wife was no longer around so he did not have a lot of time to take care of his sons and discipline them. He had to work in the farm and gather enough food and sell to get money to buy food and clothes for his sons.

As a result, his sons grew up to become very mischievous and they were always fighting every single day. The old man was becoming older and he knew that he would soon be gone and will not be able to take care of his sons.

He was very worried about how they would survive without him as they would be fighting every day.

One day, the old man had an idea to teach his sons to stop fighting and work together. He told his sons to go out and gather wood for the fireplace. They did as they were told and they went out to gather wood. Some of them had more wood than the others and when they went back home, they were fighting among themselves to get more wood.

Then the old man came and asked his sons to take a stick of wood each and break them into half. It was very easy and they broke it easily.

Next the old man asked each of his sons to take two sticks of wood and break them into half. It was a little harder but they broke it as well.

Lastly, the old man took five sticks of wood and asked them to break it. One by one, his sons tried to break it but they could not.

The old man then told his sons, “This wood is like you. If you are alone, someone else can break you and attack you easily. But if the five of you stick together as one, then no one will ever be able to break you.”

From that day on, his sons were always united and they worked hard together and they lived happily ever after.

The Bad Girl

This is a little adventure story about a little bad girl who, with the help of nature around her, came to realize what is right and grew to love the people who were around her.

She was always called the bad girl, for she had once, when she was very little, put out her tongue at the postman. She lived alone with her grandmother and her three brothers in the cottage beyond the field, and the girls in the village took no notice of her. The bad girl did not mind this, for she was always thinking of the cuckoo clock.

The clock stood in one corner of the cottage, and every hour a door opened at the top of its face, and a little cuckoo came out and called its name just the same number of times that the clock ought to have struck, and called it so loudly and in so much haste that the clock was afraid to strike at all.

The bad girl was always wondering whether it was worse for the clock to have a cupboard in its forehead, and a bird that was always hopping in and out, or for the poor cuckoo to spend so much time in a dark little prison. “If it could only get away to the woods,” she said to herself, “who knows but its voice might grow sweet, and even life itself might come to it!” She thought of the clock so much that her grandmother used to say—

“Ah, lassie, if you would only think of me sometimes!” But the bad girl would answer— ”You are not in prison, granny dear, and you have not even a bee in your bonnet, let alone a bird in your head. Why should I think of you?”

One day, close by the farm, she saw the big girls from the school gathering flowers.

“Give me one,” she said; “perhaps the cuckoo would like it.” But they all cried, “No, no!” and tried to frighten her away. “They are for the little one’s birthday. To-morrow she will be seven years old,” they said, “and she is to have a crown of flowers and a cake, and all the afternoon we shall play merry games with her.”

“Is she unhappy, that you are taking so much trouble for her?” asked the bad girl.

“Oh, no; she is very happy: but it will be her birthday, and we want to make her happier.”

“Why?”

“Because we love her,” said one;

“Because she is so little” said another;

“Because she is alive,” said a third.

“Are all things that live to be loved and cared for?” the bad girl asked, but they were too busy to listen, so she went on her way thinking; and it seemed as if all things round—the birds, and bees, and the rustling leaves, and the little tender wild flowers, half hidden in the grass—answered, as she went along— ”Yes, they are all to be cared for and made happier, if it be possible.”

“The cuckoo clock is not alive,” she thought. ”Oh, no; it is not alive,” the trees answered; “but many things that do not live have voices, and many others are just sign-posts, pointing the way.”

“The way! The way to what, and where?”

“We find out for ourselves;—we must all find out for ourselves,” the trees sighed and whispered to each other. As the bad girl entered the cottage, the cuckoo called out its name eleven times, but she did not even look up. She walked straight across to the chair by the fireside, and kneeling down, kissed her granny’s hands.

The Tortoise and the Hare

This classic tale of the tortoise and the hare teaches us a very important point to remember, that is, slow and steady wins the race. It does not mean that if you are slow in doing something then you can never do it. Just remember to be patient because you will eventually reach your goal!

The Hare was once boasting of his speed before the other animals. “I have never yet been beaten,” said he, “when I put forth my full speed. I challenge any one here to race with me.”

The Tortoise said quietly, “I accept your challenge.”

“That is a good joke,” said the Hare; “I could dance round you all the way.”

“Keep your boasting till you’ve beaten,” answered the Tortoise. “Shall we race?”

So a course was fixed and a start was made. The Hare darted almost out of sight at once, but soon stopped and, believing that the Tortoise could never catch him, lay down by the wayside to have a nap. The Tortoise never for a moment stopped, but went on with a slow but steady pace straight to the end of the course.

When the Hare awoke from his nap, he saw the Tortoise just near the winning-post. The Hare ran as fast as he could, but it was too late. He saw the Tortoise had reached the goal.

Then said the Tortoise:

“Slow and steady wins the race.”