Narrator 1: Tommy knew he wanted to be an artist when he grew up. He drew pictures everywhere he went. It was his favorite thing to do.
Narrator 2: His friends had favorite things to do, too. Jack collected all kinds of turtles.
Narrator 3: Herbie made huge cities in his sandbox.
Narrator 1: Jeannie, Tommy’s best friend, could do cartwheels and stand on her head.
Narrator 2: But Tommy drew and drew.
Narrator 3: His twin cousins, who were already grown up, were in art school learning to be real artists. They told him not to copy and to practice, practice, practice.
Narrator 2: So, he did.
Narrator 1: Tommy put his pictures up on the walls of his half of the bedroom. His mom put them up all around the house. His dad took them to the barber shop where he worked.
Narrator 2: Tom and Nana, Tommy’s Irish grandfather and grandmother, had his pictures in their grocery store.
Narrator 3: Nana-Fall-River, his Italian grandmother, put one in a special frame on the table next to the photograph of Aunt Clo in her wedding dress.
Narrator 1: Once Tommy took a flashlight and a pencil under the covers and drew pictures on his sheets. But when his mom changed the sheets on Monday and found them, she said…
Mom: No more drawing on the sheets, Tommy.
Narrator 2: His mom and dad were having a new house built, so Tommy drew pictures of what it would look like when it was finished.
Narrator 3: When the walls were up, one of the carpenters gave Tommy a piece of blue chalk.
Narrator 1: Tommy took the chalk and drew beautiful pictures all over the unfinished walls. But, when the painters came, his dad said…
Dad: That’s it, Tommy. No more drawing on the walls.
Narrator 2: Tommy couldn’t wait to go to kindergarten. His brother, Joe, told him there was a real art teacher who came to the school to give ART LESSONS!
Tommy: When do we have our art lessons?
Miss Bird: Oh, you won’t have your art lessons until next year. But we are going to paint pictures tomorrow.
Narrator 3: It wasn’t much fun. The paint was awful and the paper got wrinkly.
Narrator 1: Miss Bird made the paint by pouring different colored powders into different jars and mixing them with water. The paint didn’t stick to the paper very well and it cracked.
Narrator 2: If it was windy when Tommy carried his picture home, the paint blew right off the paper.
Joe: At least you get more than one piece of paper in kindergarten. When the art teacher comes, you only get one piece.
Narrator 3: Tommy knew that the art teacher came to the school every other Wednesday.
He could tell she was an artist because she wore a blue smock over her dress and she always carried a big box of thick colored chalks.
Narrator 1: Once, Tommy and Jeannie looked at the drawings that were hung up in the hallway. They were done by the first graders.
Jeannie: Your pictures are much better.
Narrator 2: Jeannie told Tommy.
Jeannie: Next year when we have real art lessons, you’ll be the best one!
Narrator 2: Tommy could hardly wait. He practiced all summer. Then, on his birthday, which was right after school began, his mom and dad gave him a box of sixty-four Crayola crayons.
Narrator 3: Regular boxes of crayons had red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, brown and black. This box had so many other colors: blue-violet, turquoise, red-orange, pink and even gold, silver and copper.
Miss Landers: Class, next month, the art teacher will come to our room, so on Monday, instead of singing, we will practice using our crayons.
Narrator 1: On Monday, Tommy brought his sixty-four crayons to school. Miss Landers was not pleased.
Miss Landers: Everyone must use the same crayons. SCHOOL CRAYONS!
Narrator 2: School crayons had only the same eight colors. As Miss Landers passed them out to the class, she said…
Miss Landers: These crayons are school property, so do not break them, peel off the paper, or wear down the points.
Tommy (asking Jack and Herbie): How am I supposed to practice being an artist with SCHOOL CRAYONS?
Miss Landers: That’s enough, Tommy. And I want you to take those birthday crayons home with you and leave them there.
Narrator 3: And Joe was right. They only got ONE piece of paper.
Narrator 1: Finally, the day of the art lesson came. Tommy could hardly sleep that night.
Narrator 2: The next morning, he hid the box of sixty-four crayons under his sweater and went off to school. He was ready!
Narrator 3: The classroom door opened and in walked the art teacher.
Miss Landers: Class, this is Mrs. Bowers, the art teacher. Patty, who is our paper monitor this week, will give out one piece of paper to each of you. And remember, don’t ruin it because it is the only piece you’ll get. Now, pay attention to Mrs. Bowers.
Mrs. Bowers: Class, because Thanksgiving is not too far away, we will learn to draw a Pilgrim man, a Pilgrim woman and a turkey. Watch carefully and copy me.
Narrator 1: Copy? COPY? Tommy knew that real artists didn’t copy. This was terrible. This was supposed to be a real art lesson. He folded his arms and just sat there.
Miss Landers: Now what’s the matter?
Narrator 2: Tommy looked past her and spoke right to Mrs. Bowers.
Tommy: I’m going to be an artist when I grow up and my cousins told me that real artists don’t copy. And besides, Miss Landers won’t let me use my own sixty-four Crayola crayons.
Mrs. Bowers: Well, well. What are we going to do?
Narrator 2: She turned to Miss Landers and they whispered together. Miss Landers nodded.
Mrs. Bowers: Now, Tommy. It wouldn’t be fair to let you do something different from the rest of the class. But I have an idea. If you draw the Pilgrim man and woman and the turkey, and if there’s any time left, I’ll give you another piece of paper and you can do your own picture with your own crayons. Can you do that?
Tommy: (smiling) I’ll try.
Narrators 1, 2, 3: And he did. And he did. And he still does.
Little One Step
We’re lost!
It can’t be much farther.
I want my mama. My legs feel all wobbly.
Tell you what; have you tried doing One Step?
What’s that?
Watch carefully. Just lift one foot like this… and say “one”.
The littlest duckling followed exactly what the oldest duckling did. One.
Then put it down in front and say “step” Step.
Then start again with the other foot…
Can I just practice a little bit?
The middle duckling and the oldest duckling agreed
to let the little one practice.
I think you’ve got it!
We’ll call you Little One Step from now on.
One step… one step…
All of a sudden, Little One Step looked up at the tall trees.
It’s no good. My legs feel all wobbly again.
Did you forget to do One Step?
Oh! Yes, I guess I did. I’ll try again. One… Step. There!
One… step.One… step.
At last they reached a field. The river was down below.
If we cut across the field we’ll be home!
I can’t walk all that way! I want my mama!
We’re almost there. Just do the One Step.
Ok. One step… One step… One step!
Little One Step marched through the field… past his brothers…
through the undergrowth… into a clearing…
Mama! It’s you! My baby!
Then the other two ducklings arrived. My children!
All three ducklings Hello, mama! We’re so happy to see you!
Little One Step led them all down to the river and at the water’s edge he stopped.
Mama, do you know my new name?
Mama shook her head. It’s Little One Step!
And into the water he went.
changes 小凯的家不一样了612
Everything else in the kitchen was in its familiar place, clean and tidy.
It even smelled the same as usual.
Was this what he had meant?
… or looked over the wall?
MARTHA was very fond of making split pea soup.
Sometimes she made it all day long.
Pots and pots of split pea soup.
If there was one thing that GEORGE was not fond of, it was split
pea soup.
As a matter of fact, GEORGE hated split pea soup more
than anything else in the world.
But it was so hard to tell MARTHA.
One day after GEORGE had eaten ten bowls of MARTHA's soup,
he said to himself, I just can't stand another bowl.
Not even another spoonful.
So, while MARTHA was out in the kitchen, GEORGE carefully
poured the rest of his soup into his loafers under the table.
I'm going to be the first of my species to fly! said
GEORGE.
Then why aren't you flying? asked MARTHA.
It seems to me that you are still on the ground.
You are right, said GEORGE.
I don't seem to be going anywhere at all.
Maybe the basket is too heavy, said MARTHA.
Yes, said GEORGE, I think you are right again.
Maybe if I climb out, the basket will be lighter.
Oh dear! cried GEORGE.
Now what have I done?
There goes my flying machine!
That's all right, said MARTHA.
I would rather have you down here with me.
That's what happens when you look at yourself too much in the
mirror, said GEORGE.
Then I won't do it ever again, said MARTHA.
And she didn't.
One day when GEORGE was skating to MARTHA's house, he tripped
and fell.
And he broke off his right front tooth.
His favorite tooth too.
When he got to MARTHA's, GEORGE cried his eyes out.
Oh dear me! he cried.
I look so funny without my favorite tooth!
There, there, said MARTHA.
The next day GEORGE went to the dentist.
The dentist replaced GEORGE's missing tooth with a lovely gold one.
When MARTHA was GEORGE's lovely new golden tooth, she was
very happy.
GEORGE! she exclaimed.
You look so handsome and distinguished with your new tooth!
And GEORGE was happy too.
That's what friends are for, he said.
They always look on the bright side and they always know how
to cheer you up.
But they also tell yo the truth, said MARTHA with a smile.
Guri and Gura (incomplete)
1 One day, two field mice, Guri and Gura, set off for the woods carrying a big basket.
2 “My name is Guri. And my name is Gura.
3 And what do you think we like to do best?
4 Cook and Eat. Eat and cook. Yeah! Guri and Gura, that’s us.”
5 “I’m going to boil up a basketful of acorns in syrup,” says Guri.
6 “I’m going to boil up a basketful of chestnuts, mash them and make chestnut cream,”
says Gura.
7 Gathering nuts from the woods, they walk down the path
8 until lo and behold, in the middle of the path, they see a gigantic...EGG!
9 “Wow, what a big egg!
10 This would make a sunny-side-up egg as big as the moon,” says Guri.
11 “This would make a soufflé thicker and softer than my mattress!” says Gura.
“Better yet, I think it will make a wonderful sponge cake! A sponge cake so big we can eat if from dawn to dusk and still have some left over,”says Guri.
“Whoopee, a great idea!” says Gura
4 Now, how in the world can these two little mice take this BIG egg home?
5 “This egg is much too big for our basket!” says Guri.
6 “Okay, let’s carry it then,” says Gura.
7 “But how? It’s so smooth! There’s no place to hold it—it keeps slipping!”
8 “Okay, let’s roll it home!” “But if we hit a rock, the egg will crack!”
9 Crossing their arms, the two field mice think for a long time.
10 Then Guri claps his hands and says, “I know!”
If we can’t take the egg home, then let’s cook it right here. We can bake a sponge cake here in the woods!
Great idea, Guri! Says Gura , clapping his hands with joy.
4 Guri and Gura quickly run home and gather all the things they need—
5 they take out their biggest pan, lots of flour, butter, milk, sugar, a mixing bowl, two
beaters, two aprons, some matches and two big knapsacks.
6 But the pan is so big it won’t fit in their knapsacks.
7 “Oh well, I can drag the pan,” says Guri.
8 “And I can roll the lid,” says Gura. “Come on, let’s go!”
9 Guri and Gura put on their aprons.
10 “Okay, here we go! I’ll crack open the egg.”
11 Guri clenches his fist and hits the egg as hard as he can.
clench one’s fist:
Beetle Boy卡夫卡变虫记
________________________________________
By Lawrence David
Gregory Sampson awoke one morning to discover that he had become a giant beetle.
He stared into the mirror on the back of his bedroom door. He had a large, purple-brown beetle body. He had two big, dark beetle eyes. He had two long beetle antennae. And six long, thin, hairy beetle legs. Gregory couldn't remember this ever happening before.
"Gregory, get dressed and come down for breakfast," his dad called.
Gregory tossed himself down on all sixes and scurried into the bathroom. His beetle claws clicked against the floor tiles. Gregory washed himself and brushed the large, sharp fangs that protruded from his mouth. He looked in the mirror above the sink and scared himself. Yup, he was still a beetle.
Gregory had never seen a bug wearing clothes before, but most bugs didn't have to dress for a day at school. He rummaged through his dresser and took out a baggy shirt and pants with an elastic waistband. The pants weren't too much of a problem to pull on, but the shirt had only two armholes. Second-grade boys were not supposed to have six insect legs. Gregory cut two more holes in the shirt for his two new arms. Or were they legs?
"Gregory!" his mother yelled. "Hurry, please!"
Gregory scampered down the stairs a bit too fast, doing two back and three side flips along the way. He landed at the bottom on his beetle shell back. His six legs kicked at the air as he tried to right his body. Finally, after a few minutes of wriggling, he was able to grab hold of the banister and flip himself over so that his claws met the floor.
No one looked up as Gregory entered the kitchen. Dad stood at the counter packing school lunches for Gregory and his little sister, Caitlin. Mom sat at the table reading the newspaper. Caitlin was drinking a glass of orange juice. Her plate was piled with bread crusts and half an egg yolk.
Gregory hoisted himself into his chair and began eating his eggs and bacon. "Mom," he called, "Dad, Caitlin, I'm a bug. Look at me. I'm a giant beetle."
Dad closed the lunch boxes and smiled at Gregory. "And I'm a hippo."
Gregory waved a claw. "But I'm a bug, Dad, don't you see? What should we do?"
Mom answered from behind the paper. "You've always been our little bug-a-boo."
Caitlin wrinkled her nose. "Yesterday you said you wanted to be an astronaut." She picked a piece of bacon off Gregory's plate. "Do bugs like bacon?"
"Do you know how to change me back?" Gregory asked his mother. "Did this ever happen to you when you were a little boy?" he asked his father.
"Can't we discuss this after school?" Mom replied. You have to get out to the bus."
Dad walked Caitlin and Gregory to the front door and handed them their lunches and backpacks.
"Can bugs be astronauts?" Gregory asked his father.
Dad laughed and gave his son a pat on the shell.
Gregory stared at himself in the hall mirror. Yup, still a bug. Couldn't anyone see?
Winnie’s Midnight Dragon
There was something on the doormat. Something with big green eyes…
Winine and her black cat, Wilbur, are all tucked into bed when, suddenly, Wilbur is woken up by a strange noise. There’s a bay dragon at the door! Soon Winnie finds her house filled with breaking bowls, armor clattering down the stairs, puffs of smoke...and even clouds of butterflies. What's a witch to do?...
‘Time for bed,’ said Winnie the Witch,
as the clock struck twelve.
Witches always go to bed at midnight.
Winnie turned off the lights and went upstairs.
She brushed her teeth, washed her face,
put on her nightie and climbed into bed.
In two minutes she was snoring.
Wilbur, her big black cat, was already asleep.
He was curled up in his basket, dreaming.
Two minutes later, Wilbur woke up.
He could hear a funny noise in the garden.
‘Meeoww!’ cried Wilbur
and he jumped back.
A long nose poked
through the cat flap.
Then there was a puff of smoke.
The cat flap wobbled and shook.
He crept to the cat flap and peeped out.
There was something on the door mat.
Something with big green eyes.
A spiky body, then a long tail, followed the nose.
There was a baby dragon in Winnie’s house!
‘Meeoww!’ cried Wilbur. He turned three
backward somersaults and ran into the hall.
The baby dragon thought this was fun.
He ran after Wilbur.
Swish, swish went his tail.
Winnie’s grandfather clock wobbled and shook.
DING! DONG! BOING!
‘Meeoww!’ cried Wilbur and he raced upstairs.
The baby dragon ran after him.
Swish, swish went his tail.
Winnie’s suit of armour wobbled
and shook and rolled down the stairs.
CRASH! BANG! CLANG!
“Where’s your mother, little dragon?” Winnie asked.
“Meeoww!”Cried Wilbur outside Winnie’s door. Winnie woke up and jumped out of bed. “Whatever’s that?”She said.
Then she saw a puff of smoke coming from behind her broomstick. “Oh no!” Said Winie. “My broomstick is on fire!”
Winnie grabbed her boomstick. “Goodness gracious me!”
Said Winnie. “It’s a baby dragon! He could burn my house down. We’ll have to find his mother, Wilbur.”
“Where’s your mother, little dragon?”Winnie asked. “Boo hoo hoo,” cried the baby dragon.
A cloud of smoke came out of his nose. Puff, puff.
“Puff!” went the dragon, and out of his nose came…
A cloud of butterflies.
“Puff, puff .Puff!” went the baby dragon, who was very surprised.
SMASH went Winnie’s best bowl.
SMASH went the vase of flowers.
There were butterflies everywhere. Wilbur loved chasing butterflies.
The baby dragon loved chasing anything!
CRASH! Went the table.
“That’s wasn’t such a good idea,”Saide Winnie. She waved her magic wand again and shouted,
Out of the dragon’s nose came nothing.
“Good, said Winnie .”
Winnie at the seaside
It was a very hot summer.
Winnie the Witch felt hot and tired.
Wilbur, her cat, felt hot and tired, too.
‘I want a swim, Wilbur,’ Winnie said.
‘Let’s go to the seaside.’
The Winnie had an idea. She waved her magic wand three times and shouted,
Winnie found her beach towel, her beach
bag and her beach umbrella.
She jumped onto her broomstick,
Wilbur jumped onto her shoulder, and they were off.
They flew over hot towns,
hot roads, hot cars,
and then they came to the sea.
There were lots of people on the beach, ‘Look after my bag and my broomstick, Wilbur,’ Winnie said.
but Winnie found a place for her towel. She ran into the water.
She put up her beach umbrella
and got ready for her swim.
It was lovely in the sea.
Winnie splashed through the water, and skipped over the little waves.
She was having a lovely time.
Wilbur sat and watched her.
He couldn’t swim. He didn’t like water.
He hated getting wet.
Winnie dived into the water. It was such fun!
But the water started to creep up the sand,
up to Winnie’s towel.
Wilbur jumped onto
Winnie’s beach umbrella.
‘Meeow,’ he cried.
1. Alice got two teddy bears as gifts from her grandmas. One bear was white, and the other was brown. Except for their colors, the bears were exactly the same. Alice loved both of her bears, and didnt really pay much attention ...
The two grandmas had always been good friends. But soon they began to argue about the bers.
“Alice likes the white bear better,” said Grandma Jones.
“No, Alice likes the brown bear better,” said Grandma Murphy.
“she’ll tke mine when she goes to sleep.”
“No, she won't . She’ll take mine.”
Alice listened to theire squabbles and smiled. The truth was , she loved all bears: white, brown ,and any other color.But the bears- they didn’t like each other.
Soon the bears began to argue,too!
They argued during the day when Alice was at school.
They argued at night when Alice was sleeping.they would boht snuggle up next to Alice, one on each side, to see who could get closer.
White Bear wanted to get even. He waited for the right moment. Then he pushed Alice’s school bag off the desk and watched it land on Brown Bear’s head.
One beautiful sunny day Alice thougt it would be nice to have a picnic with the bears.
So Alice put white bear in the closet.
And she set Brown bear high up on the shelf.
A Bell for Ursli: A Story from the Engadine in Switzerland
(2007/09)
High in the mountains, far and blue,
There lives a small boy just like you.
See the wee village, poor but neat?
His is the last house in the street.
Guri and Gura's Surprise Visitor
(2003/04)
Rieko Nakagawa、Yuriko Yamawaki 他
One winter's day,
Guri and Gura are having a snowball fight in the woods
when all of a sudden, Guri says,
"Look, here's a big hole in the snow!
Where do you think it came from?"
The two field mice, Guri and Gura,
wake up one fine spring morning and
wonder out loud,
"How are the carrots in our vegetable garden doing?"
and, "How tall are those runner beans?"
On a warm and sunny day, Grandma Baba plants a watermelon seed in her garden.
Digging a small hole, she carefully places the seed in the hole and covers it with dirt.
She makes a wish,
"I hope you grow into a tasty watermelon."
Cantre'r Gwaelod (Cities in the Sea)
Author: Lewis S. & Morris J.
A boy stood on the Western cliff-top with the echo of a cry in his ears. He did not hear King Gwyddno ride towards him. The king reined his horse and watched him with a smile. No wonder the boy stood spellbound. Many a grey traveller before him had marvelled at the golden cities of Cantre'r Gwaelod that stretched below the cliffs as far as the eye could see.
'Boy,' called the king at last. 'What brings you here?'
'A cry,' said the boy. 'A cry that roused me from my bed.'
'I heard no cry,' said the king. 'Tell me, why do you stand so silently on the cliff-top? What wonders can you see?'
The boy drew his hands across his eyes.
'I can see golden sands,' he said.
The king exclaimed in surprise.
'I see the gleam of oyster shells.'
'And?' said the king. 'And,' the boy said dreamily, 'I see bright fish swimming in the sea.'
The king looked, too, and saw only the riches of Cantre'r Gwaelod. He laughed.
'Boy,' he said. 'I know what you are. You are a poet. Poets can pluck visions from the air. Shall I tell you now what you really see?'
The king dismounted and braced himself against the Western wind. Proudly he swept his arm over the golden cities that reached across the lowlands to the horizon.
'Down below us lies my land of Cantre'r Gwaelod, the richest land in all of Britain.
Look closely.
The golden sands you saw are fields of waving corn.
The gleaming oyster shells are shining roofs and towers.
The brightly coloured fish are my people in their fine clothes laughing and dancing in the streets. Now.' The king covered the boy's eyes with his hands. 'Forget your dreams,' he said.
'No one has need of dreams in Cantre'r Gwaelod.'
'But I hear the sea,' the child said in a puzzled voice. 'Even though your arms are around me, I can hear it hiss. 'That's the hiss of the fountains in the courtyards,' replied the king.
'I hear it froth,' the child said.
'That's the froth of good wine in the cellars.'
'I hear it groan,' said the child.
'That's the groan of our carts,' the king replied, taking his hands away.
'Can you see them lumbering like seed-bearing ants from North and South and East?
They are groaning beneath the weight of the food for our feast tonight.' The king looked down into the boy's thin face. 'Come to the feast,' he said kindly. 'You shall be my guest. A feast can always do with an extra poet.'
He swung the boy onto the back of the bay horse and sprang into the saddle. At once the horse moved away from the swirling cliff-top and cantered joyfully along the downward path to Cantre'r Gwaelod.
There was a wee house in the heather--
'Twas a bit o' a but and a ben--
And in it there lived all together Lachie MacLachlan And his good wife,
And his bairns to the number of ten.
"There's a fire on the hearthstone to warm me,
And porridge to spare in the pot," Said Lachie.
"The weather is stormy, So me and my wife And our ten bairns,
Will be sharing whatever we've got."
So he hailed every traveler that passed by his door.
Said Lachie MacLachlan, "There's room galore.
Och, come awa' in! There's room for one more,
Always room for one more!"
A tinker came first, then a tailor,
And a sailor with line and lead;
A gallowglass and a fishing lass,
With a creel o' fish on her head;
A merry auld wife full o' banter,
Four peat-cutters up from the bog,
Piping Rury the Ranter,
and a sheperd laddie Down from the brae,
With his canny wee sheperd dog.
He hailed them all as he stood at the door.
Said Lachie MacLachlan,
"There's room galore.
Och, come awa' in!
There's room for one more,
Always room for one more!"
Rury's pipes set the rafters a-ringing Till the clock danced a reel on the shelf,
And they all fell to dancing and singing,
And the little dog danced by himself.
Och, the walls they bulged out and bulged in then,
The walls they bulged in and out.
There will never be heard such a din, then,
As came from the folks In the wee little house
While they rollicked and frolicked about.
They filled all the house up from door to door,
But Lachie cried out, "There's room galore.
'Twould be a tight fit, but there's room for one more,
Always room for one more!"
Then the rafters they clappit like thunder,
And folks in the nearby town Stood stock-still to listen and wonder,
When the wee little house With its but and its ben And its walls and its roof DINGED DOWN!
Then the tinker and the tailor,
And the sailor with line and lead;
The gallowglass, and the fishing lass,
With the creel o' fish on her head;
The auld wife full o' banter,
The four peat-cutters up from the bog,
Piping Rury the Ranter,
And the sheperd laddie down from the brae,
With his canny wee sheperd dog,
AND Lachie MachLachlan,
His good wife, And his bairns to the number of ten,
They all tumbled out again!
And they gowked at the place where the house stood before.
"Och, Lachie," they cried,
"there was room galore, But worry and woe, there's no room no more,
Never no room no more!"
They wailed for a while in the heather,
As glum as a grumpetie grouse, Then they shouted,
"Have done with this blether!
For Lachie MacLachlan, His wife and his bairns,
We'll raise up a bonny new house."
The house that they raised from the auld one Was double as wide and as high. Should an army come by it could hauld one,
With Lachie MacLachlan, His wife and his bairns,
And whoever else happened by.
And then the whole lot of them stood at the door,
And merrily shouted,
"There's room galore!
Now there will always be room for one more,
Always room for one more!"
One day Anna came home from
school with her best friend, Susie.
They were going to play with
Anna’s very special doll, Emily.
But when Anna went to look for
her she had disappeared.
“I bet Katy’s got her.
She’s always taking my Emily away.
Katy! I want Emily back!
Give her back to me!”
In August, Hermit Crab and his friends wandered into
a forest of seaweed. "It's so dark here," thought Hermit Crab.
"How dim it is," murmered the sea anemone.
"How gloomy it is," whispered the starfish.
"How murky it is," complained the coral.
"I can't see!" said the snail.
"It's like nighttime!" cried the sea urchin.
In September, Hermit Crab spotted a school of lanternfish
darting through the dark water.
"How bright you are!" said Hermit Crab.
"Would one of you be willing to light up our house?"
"I would," replied one lanternfish. And it swam over near the shell.
"It's time for me to lay my eggs," she said.
"Can I help?" asked Mr. Seahorse.
"Oh, yes. Thank you!" said Mrs. Seahorse
and she laid her eggs into a pouch on Mr. Seahorse's belly.
"I'll take good care of our eggs," said Mr. Seahorse,
"I promise."
But before long, Mr. Seahorse met another fish.
"How are you, Mr. Stickleback?" asked mr. Seahorse.
"Delighted," replied Mr. Stickleback.
"I just built a nest and right away
Mrs. Stickleback laid her eggs into it.
Now I am taking good care of them until they hatch."
"Keep up the good work," said Mr. Seahorse
and swam on his way.
At five o’clock in the morning the sun came up.
A friendly ladybug flew in from the left.
It saw a leaf with many aphids on it, and decided to have them for breakfast.
But just then a grouchy lady bug flew in from the right.
It too saw the aphids and wanted them for breakfast.
“Good morning,” said the friendly ladybug.
“Go away!” shouted the grouchy ladybug. “I want those aphids.”
“We can share them,” suggested the friendly ladybug.
“No. They’re mine, all mine,” screamed the grouchy ladybug.
“Or do you want to fight me for them?”
“If you insist,” answered the friendly ladybug sweetly.
It looked the other bug straight in the eye.
王爸给的绘本MP3很强大,这个资源在哪里啊