Choice Literature, Kniha 1

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American Book Company, 1912
 

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Strana 132 - That lay in the house that Jack built. This is the farmer sowing his corn That kept the cock that crowed in the morn That waked the priest all shaven and shorn That married the man all tattered and torn That kissed the maiden all forlorn That milked the cow with the crumpled horn That tossed the dog That worried the cat That killed the rat That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.
Strana 23 - Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
Strana 20 - Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb was sure to go.
Strana 34 - All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful. The Lord God made them all.
Strana 12 - There was an old woman who lived In a shoe, She had so many children, she didn't know what to do. She gave them some broth without any bread, She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
Strana 8 - One, two, Buckle my shoe; Three, four, Shut the door; Five, six, Pick up sticks; Seven, eight, Lay them straight; Nine, ten, A good fat hen; Eleven, twelve, Who will delve?
Strana 39 - What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day ? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away. What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day ? Baby says, like little birdie, Let me rise and fly away.
Strana 35 - The rich man in his castle, The poor man at his gate, GOD made them, high or lowly, And ordered their estate.
Strana 32 - Like ladies' skirts across the grass— 0 wind, a-blowing all day long, 0 wind, that sings so loud a song! I saw the different things you did, But always you yourself you hid. I felt you push, I heard you call, I could not see yourself at all— O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!
Strana 13 - When the wind blows the cradle will rock; When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down will come baby, cradle, and all.

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