The chill November day was done, The wind came rushing through the streets, And cheerlessly and aimlessly The autumn leaves were flying, — 1 When, mingled with the roaring wind, There, shivering on the corner, stood. No cloak nor hat her slender arms Her dimpled face was stained with tears, A bunch of faded clover. She grasped her treasure in one hand "He came and played at our doorstep, The monkey took the money; I followed down the street because That monkey was so funny. I've walked about a hundred hours From one street to another; The monkey's gone; I've spoiled my flowers ;· "But what's your mother's name? and what 66 The street? Now think a minute." My mother's name is Mother Dear; The street — I can't begin it.” The sky grew stormy; people passed All muffled, homeward faring. "You'll have to spend the night with me,' I said at last, despairing. I tied my kerchief round her neck, 66 "What ribbon's this, my blossom?" 'Why, don't you know?" she, smiling, said, A card with number, street, and name! I might sometime forget it. And so I wear a little thing That tells you all about it; I should get lost without it." EXPRESSION: Study this mark (-). Ask the teacher how it may help you to read with expression. THE WISHING-GATE1 I Blunder was going to the Wishing-Gate to wish for something. He thought that he would like to have a pair of ponies and a little coach like Tom Thumb's. People say that you can have your wish if you once get to that gate. But the thing is to find it. It is not a gate with a sign at the top like this: WISHING-GATE It is just an old stile in a meadow. There are plenty 1 By Louise E. Chollet. of old stiles in meadows, and how are you to know which is the right one? Blunder's fairy godmother knew, but then she could not tell him. She could only direct him to follow the road, and ask the way of the first owl he met. Over and over again she charged him; for Blunder was a very careless little boy, and seldom found anything. "Be sure you don't miss him — be sure you don't pass him by." "No, indeed, I wont," said Blunder. So he followed the straight road till he came to a place where it forked. And there he stopped, wondering which way to go. An old brown owl was nodding in a tall oak tree, the first owl Blunder had seen. He was a little afraid to wake him up. The fairy godmother had told him that the owl sat up all night to study frogs. He could think of nothing better to say than, "Good Mr. Owl, will you please show me the way to the Wishing-Gate?" "What's that?" cried the owl, starting out of his nap. "Have you brought me a frog?" |