Reading-literature : Sixth Reader: Adapted and Graded by Harriette Taylor Treadwell ... and Margaret Free ... Illustrated by Frederick V. Poole

Forsideomslag
Row, Perterson, 1915 - 416 sider

Fra bogen

Indhold

I
10
II
11
III
15
IV
17
V
24
VI
27
VII
29
VIII
37
LI
196
LII
199
LIII
202
LIV
208
LV
213
LVI
219
LVII
225
LVIII
231

IX
40
X
43
XI
45
XII
47
XIII
49
XIV
51
XV
53
XVI
57
XVII
60
XVIII
64
XIX
69
XX
72
XXI
75
XXII
81
XXIII
91
XXIV
98
XXV
104
XXVI
108
XXVII
112
XXVIII
115
XXIX
118
XXX
124
XXXI
126
XXXII
128
XXXIII
130
XXXIV
132
XXXV
135
XXXVI
137
XXXVII
139
XXXVIII
159
XXXIX
160
XL
161
XLI
162
XLII
171
XLIII
174
XLIV
176
XLV
179
XLVI
186
XLVII
192
XLVIII
193
XLIX
194
L
195
LIX
233
LX
235
LXI
239
LXII
241
LXIII
244
LXIV
246
LXV
247
LXVI
250
LXVII
253
LXVIII
257
LXIX
259
LXX
262
LXXI
267
LXXII
269
LXXIII
274
LXXIV
277
LXXV
279
LXXVI
281
LXXVII
289
LXXVIII
291
LXXIX
292
LXXX
293
LXXXI
294
LXXXII
301
LXXXIII
303
LXXXIV
311
LXXXV
314
LXXXVI
321
LXXXVII
326
LXXXVIII
330
LXXXIX
337
XC
338
XCI
339
XCIII
358
XCIV
370
XCV
386
XCVI
388
XCVII
390
XCVIII
391
XCIX
409
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Populære passager

Side 50 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow : You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school, Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
Side 235 - BLESSINGS on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan ! With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes ; With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace ; From my heart I give thee joy, — I was once a barefoot boy ! Prince thou art, — the grown-up man Only is republican.
Side 125 - And Pharaoh's daughter said unto her, 'Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages.
Side 262 - LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five ; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year.
Side 102 - No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank ; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer.
Side 264 - Of the lonely belfry and the dead; For suddenly all his thoughts are bent On a shadowy something far away, Where the river widens to meet the bay, — A line of black that bends and floats On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.
Side 45 - WHENE'ER a noble deed is wrought, Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.
Side 195 - O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Side 136 - And it came to pass on the third day in the morning, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud ; so that all the people that was in the camp trembled.
Side 266 - It was two by the village clock, When he came to the bridge in Concord town. He heard the bleating of the flock, And the twitter of birds among the trees, And felt the breath of the morning breeze Blowing over the meadows brown.

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