melaniezengxing
2012-02-09
[其它] 500本经典绘本的英文原文-无英文原文请别回复,,多谢!!!
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-
Olivia
This is Olivia. She is good at lots of things.
She is very good at wearing people out.
She even wears herself out.
Olivia has a little brother named Ian.
He’s always copying.
Sometimes, Ian just won’t leave her alone, so Olivia has to be firm.
Olivia lives with her mother, her father, her brother, her dog, Perry,
and Edwin, the cat.
In the morning, after she gets up, and moves the cat,
and brush her teeth, and comb her ears,
and moves the cat, Olivia gets dressed.
She has to try on everything.
On sunny days, Olivia likes to go to the beach.
She feels it’s important to come prepared.
Last summer when Olivia was little,
her mother showed her how to make sand castles.
She got pretty good.
Sometimes Olivia likes to bask in the sun.
When her mother sees that she’s had enough, they go home.
Every day Olivia is supposed to take a nap.
“It’s time for your you-know-what,” her mother says.
Of course Olivia is not at all sleepy.
On rainy days, Olivia likes to go to the museum.
She heads straight for her favorite picture.
Olivia looks at it for a long time.
What could she be thinking?
But there is one painting Olivia just doesn’t get.
“I could do that in about five minutes,” she says to her mother.
As soon as she gets home she gives it a try.
Time out.
After a nice bath, and a nice dinner, it’s time for bed.
But of course Olivia is not at all sleepy.
“Only five books tonight, mommy,” she says.
“No, Olivia, just one.”
“How about four?”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Oh, all right, three. But that’s it!”
When they’ve finished reading, Olivia’s mother gives a kiss and says,
“You know, you really wear me out. But I love you anyway.”
And Olivia gives her a kiss back and says,
“I love you anyway too.”
-
MADELINE
In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines
Iived twelve little girls in two straight lines.
In two straight lines they broke their bread
and brushed their teeth
and went to bed.
They smiled at the good
and frowned at the bad
and sometimes they were very sad.
They left the house at half past nine in two straight lines.
in rain
or shine--
the smallest one was Madeline.
She was not afraid of mice--
she loved winter, snow, and ice.
To the tiger in the zoo Madeline just said, "Pooh-pooh,"
and nobody knew so well how to frighten Miss Clavel.
In the middle of one night Miss Clavel turned on her light and said, "Something is not right!"
Little Madeline sat in bed, cried and cried; her eyes were red.
And soon after Dr. Cohn came, he rushed out to the phone
and he dialed: DANton-ten-six--
"Nurse," he said, "it's an appendix!"
Everybody had to cry-- not a single eye was dry.
Madeline was in his arm in a blanket safe and warm.
In a car with a red light they drove out into the night.
Madeline woke up two hours later, in a room with flowers.
Madeline soon ate and drank. On her bed there was a crank,
and a crack on the ceiling had the habit of sometimes looking like a rabit.
Outside were birds, trees, and sky-- and so ten days passed quickly by.
One nice morning Miss Clavel said-- "Isn't this a fine--
day to visit
Madeline."
VISITORS FROM TWO TO FOUR
read a sign outside her door.
Tiptoeing with solemn face, with some flowers and vase,
in they walked and then said, "Ahhh," when they saw the toys and candy and the dollhouse from Papa.
But the biggest surprise by far-- on her stomach was a scar!
"Good-by," they said, "we'll come again,"
and the little girls left in the rain.
They went home and broke their bread
brushed their teeth
and went to bed.
In the middle of the night Miss Clavel turned on the light and said, "Something is not right!"
And afraid of a disaster
Miss Clavel ran fast
and faster,
and she said, "Please children do-- tell me what is troubling you?"
And all the little girls cried, "Boohoo, we want to have our appendix out, too."
"Good night, little girls!
Thank the lord you are well!
And now go to sleep!"
said Miss Clavel.
And she turned out the light--
and closed the door--
and that's all there is--
there isn't any more.
-
The Missing Piece Meets the BIG O
The missing piece sat alone ...
waiting for someone to come along
and take it somewhere
Some fit...
but could not roll.
Others could roll but did not fit.
One didn't know a thing about fitting.
And another didn’t know a thing about anything.
One was too delicate.
POP!
One put it on a pedestal...
and left it there.
Some had too many pieces missing.
Some had too many pieces, period.
It learned to hide from the hungry ones.
More came.
Some looked too closely.
Others rolled right by without noticing.
Hi..?
It tried to make itself more attractive...
It didn't help.
It tried being flashy
but that just frightened away the shy ones.
At last one came along that fit just right.
But all of a sudden...
the missing piece began to grow!
And grow!
" I didn't know you were going to grow."
" I didn't know it either,"
said the missing piece.
" I'm looking for " my missing piece, one the won't increase..."
BYE...
SIGH...
And then one day,
one came along who looked different.
" What do you want of me?"
asked the missing piece.
" Nothing."
" What do you need from me?"
" Who are you?" asked the missing piece.
" I am the Big O,"
said the Big O.
" I think you are the one, I have been waiting for,"
said the missing piece.
" May be I am your missing piece."
" But I am not missing a piece,"
said the Big O.
" There is no place you would fit."
" That is too bad," said the missing piece.
" I was hoping that perhaps I could roll with you..."
" You cannot roll with me,"
said the Big O.
" but perhaps you can roll by yourself."
" By myself?
A missing piece cannot roll by itself."
" Have you ever tried"
asked the Big O.
" But I have sharp corners,"
said the missing piece.
" I am not shaped for rolling."
" Corners wear off,"
said the Big O.
" and shapes change. Anyhow, I must say good-bye. Perhaps we will meet again..."
And away it rolled.
The missing piece was alone again.
For a long time it just sat there.
Then...
slowly...
it lifted itself up on one end...
...and flopped over.
PLOP!
Then lift...pull...flop...
it began to move forward...
And soon its edges began to wear off...
lift pull flop lift pull flop..
and its shape began to change...
and then it was bumping instead of flopping...
and then it was bouncing instead of bumping...
and then it was rolling instead of bouncing...
And it didn't know where and it didn't care.
It was rolling!
-
The Carrot Seed
By Ruth Krauss, illustrations by Crockett Johnson
A little boy planted a carrot seed.
His mother said, “I’m afraid it won’t come up.”
His father said, “I’m afraid it won’t come up.”
And his big brother said, “It won’t come up.”
Every day the little boy pulled up the weeds around the seed and
sprinkled the ground with water. But nothing came up. And
nothing came up.
Everyone kept saying it wouldn’t come up. But he still pulled up
the weeds around it every day and sprinkled the ground with
water.
And then, one day, a carrot came up just as the little boy had
known it would.
-
OWEN
Owen had a fuzzy yellow blanket.
He’d had it since he was a baby.
He loved it with all his heart.
Fuzzy goes where I go,”said Owen.
And Fuzzy did.
Upstairs, downstairs, in-between.
Inside, outside, upside down.
“Fuzzy likes what I like,”said Owen.
And Fuzzy did.
Orange juice, grape juice, chocolate milk.
Ice cream, peanut butter, applesauce cake.
Isn’t he getting a little old to be carrying that thing around?”asked Mrs Tweezers. “Haven’t you heard of the Blanket Fairy?”
Owen’s parents hadn’t.
Mrs. Tweezers filled them in.
That night Owen’s parents told Owen to put Fuzzy under his pillow.
In the morning Fuzzy would be gone, bu the Blanket Fairy would leave an absolutely wonderful, positively perfect, especially terrific big-boy gift in its place.
Owen stuffed Fuzzy inside his pajama pants and went to sleep.
“No Blanket Fairy,”said Owen in the morning.
“No Kidding,”said Owen’s mother.
“No wonder,”said Owen’s father.
“Fuzzy’s dirty,”said Owen’s mother.
“Fuzzy’s torn and ratty,”said Owen’s father.
“No,”said Owen. “Fuzzy is perfect.”
And Fuzzy was.
Fuzzy played Captain Plunger with Owen.
Fuzzy helped Owen become invisible.
And Fuzzy was essential when it came to nail clippings and haircuts and trips to the dentist.
“Can’t be a baby forever,”said Mrs. Tweezers.
“Haven’t you heard of the vinegar trick?”
Owen’s parents hadn’t.
Mrs. Tweezers filled them in.
When Owen wasn’t looking, his father dipped Owen’s favourite corner of Fuzzy into a jar of vinegar.
Owen sniffed it and smelled I and sniffed it.
He picked a new favourite corner.
Then he rubbed the smelly corner all arround his sandbox, buried it in the garden, and dug it up again.
“Good as new,”said Owen.
Fuzzy wasn’t very fuzzy anymore.
But Owen didn’t mind.
He carried it.
And Wore it.
And dragged it.
He sucked it.
And Hugged it.
And twisted it.
“What are we going to do?”asked Owen’s mother.
“School is starting soon,”said Owen’s father.
“Can’t bring a blanket to school,”said Mrs Tweezers.
“Haven’t you heard of saying no?”
Owen’s parents hadn’t.
Mrs. Tweezers filled them in.
“I have to bring Fuzzy to school,”said Owen.
“No.”said Owen’s mother.
“No.”said Owen’s father.
Owen buried his face in Fuzzy.
He started to cry and would not stop.
“Don’t worry,”said Owen’s mother.
“It’ll be all right”said Owen’s father.
And then suddenly Owen’s mother said, “I have an idea!”
It was an absolutely wonderful, positively perfect, especially terrific idea.
First she snipped.
And then she sewed.
Then she snipped again and sewed some more .
Snip, snip, snip.
Sew, sew, sew.
“Dry your eyes.”
“Wipe your nose.”
Horray, hooray, hooray!
Now Owen carries one of his not/so/fuzzy handkerchiefs with him where he goes.
And Mrs. Tweezers doesn’t say a thing.
-
owl moon
owl moon
It was late one winter night,
long past my bedtime,
when Pa and I went owling.
There was no wind.
The trees stood still
as giant statues.
And the moon was so bright
the sky seemed to shine.
Somewhere behind us
a train whistle blew,
long and low,
like a sad, sad song.
I coule hear it
through the woolen cap
Pa had pulled down
over my ears.
A farm dog answered the train,
and then a second dog
joined in.
They sang out,
trains and dogs,
for a real long time.
And when their voices
faded away
it was as quiet as dream.
We walked on toward the woods,
Pa and I.
Our feet crunched
over the crisp snow
and little gray footprints
followed us.
Pa made a long shadow,
but mine was short and round.
I had to run after him
every now and then
to keep up,
and my short, round shadow
bumped after me.
But I called out.
If you go owling
you have to be quiet,
that's what Pa always says.
------------------------------
I had been waiting
to go owling with Pa
for a long, long time.
We reacded the line
of pine trees,
black and pointy
against the sky,
and Pa held up his hand.
I stopped right where I was
and waited.
He looked up,
as if searching the stars
as if reading a map up there.
The moon made his face
into a silver mask.
Then he called
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo,"
the sound of a Great Horned Owl.
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo."
Again he called out.
And then again.
After each call
he was silent
and for a moment we both listened.
But there was no answer.
Pa shrugged
and I shrugged.
I was not disppointed.
My brothers all said
sometimes there's an owl
and sometimes there isn't.
We walked on.
I could feel the cold,
as if someone's icy hand
was palm-down on my back.
And my nose
and the tops of my cheeks
felt cold and hot
at the same time.
But I never said a word.
If you go owling
you have to be quiet
and make your own heat.
We went into the woods.
The shadows
were the blackest things
I had ever seen.
They stained the white snow.
My mouth felt furry,
for the scarf over it
was wet and warm.
I didn't ask
what kinds of things
hide behind black trees
in the middle of the night.
When you go owling
you have to be brave.
Then we came to a clearing
in the dark woods.
The moon was high above us.
It seemed to fit
exactly
over the center of the chearing
and the snow below it
was whiter than the milk
in a cereal bowl
I sighed
and Pa held up his hand
at the sound.
I put my mittens
over the scarf
over my mouth
and listened hard.
And then Pa called:
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo.
Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo."
I listened
and looked so hard
my ears hurt
and my eyes got cloudy
with the cold.
Pa raised his face
to call out again,
but before he could
open his mouth
an echo
came threading its way
through the trees.
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo."
Pa almost smiled.
Then he called back:
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo,"
just as if he
and the owl
were talking about supper
or about the woods
or the moon
or the cold.
I took my mitten
off the scarf
off my mouth,
and I almost smiled, too.
The owl's call came closer,
from high up the trees
on the edge of the meadow.
Nothing in the meadow moved.
All of a shadow,
an owl shadow,
part of the big tree shadow,
lifted off
and flew right over us.
We watched silently
with heat in our mouths,
the het of all those words
we had not spoken.
The shadow hooted again.
Pa turned on
his big flashlight
and caught the owl
just as it was landing
on a branch.
For one minute,
three minutes,
maybe even a hundred minutes,
we stared at one another.
Then the owl
Pumped its great wings
and lifted off the branch
like a shadow
without sound.
It flew back into the forest.
"Time to go home,"
Pa said to me.
I knew then I could talk,
I could even laugh out loud.
But I was a whadow
as we walked home.
When you go owling
you don't need words
or warm
or anything but hope.
That's what Pa ways.
The kind of hope
that flies
on silent sings
under a shining
Owl Moon.
-
owl moon
owl moon
It was late one winter night,
long past my bedtime,
when Pa and I went owling.
There was no wind.
The trees stood still
as giant statues.
And the moon was so bright
the sky seemed to shine.
Somewhere behind us
a train whistle blew,
long and low,
like a sad, sad song.
I coule hear it
through the woolen cap
Pa had pulled down
over my ears.
A farm dog answered the train,
and then a second dog
joined in.
They sang out,
trains and dogs,
for a real long time.
And when their voices
faded away
it was as quiet as dream.
We walked on toward the woods,
Pa and I.
Our feet crunched
over the crisp snow
and little gray footprints
followed us.
Pa made a long shadow,
but mine was short and round.
I had to run after him
every now and then
to keep up,
and my short, round shadow
bumped after me.
But I called out.
If you go owling
you have to be quiet,
that's what Pa always says.
------------------------------
I had been waiting
to go owling with Pa
for a long, long time.
We reacded the line
of pine trees,
black and pointy
against the sky,
and Pa held up his hand.
I stopped right where I was
and waited.
He looked up,
as if searching the stars
as if reading a map up there.
The moon made his face
into a silver mask.
Then he called
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo,"
the sound of a Great Horned Owl.
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo."
Again he called out.
And then again.
After each call
he was silent
and for a moment we both listened.
But there was no answer.
Pa shrugged
and I shrugged.
I was not disppointed.
My brothers all said
sometimes there's an owl
and sometimes there isn't.
We walked on.
I could feel the cold,
as if someone's icy hand
was palm-down on my back.
And my nose
and the tops of my cheeks
felt cold and hot
at the same time.
But I never said a word.
If you go owling
you have to be quiet
and make your own heat.
We went into the woods.
The shadows
were the blackest things
I had ever seen.
They stained the white snow.
My mouth felt furry,
for the scarf over it
was wet and warm.
I didn't ask
what kinds of things
hide behind black trees
in the middle of the night.
When you go owling
you have to be brave.
Then we came to a clearing
in the dark woods.
The moon was high above us.
It seemed to fit
exactly
over the center of the chearing
and the snow below it
was whiter than the milk
in a cereal bowl
I sighed
and Pa held up his hand
at the sound.
I put my mittens
over the scarf
over my mouth
and listened hard.
And then Pa called:
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo.
Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo."
I listened
and looked so hard
my ears hurt
and my eyes got cloudy
with the cold.
Pa raised his face
to call out again,
but before he could
open his mouth
an echo
came threading its way
through the trees.
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo."
Pa almost smiled.
Then he called back:
"Whoo-whoo-who-who-who-whooooooo,"
just as if he
and the owl
were talking about supper
or about the woods
or the moon
or the cold.
I took my mitten
off the scarf
off my mouth,
and I almost smiled, too.
The owl's call came closer,
from high up the trees
on the edge of the meadow.
Nothing in the meadow moved.
All of a shadow,
an owl shadow,
part of the big tree shadow,
lifted off
and flew right over us.
We watched silently
with heat in our mouths,
the het of all those words
we had not spoken.
The shadow hooted again.
Pa turned on
his big flashlight
and caught the owl
just as it was landing
on a branch.
For one minute,
three minutes,
maybe even a hundred minutes,
we stared at one another.
Then the owl
Pumped its great wings
and lifted off the branch
like a shadow
without sound.
It flew back into the forest.
"Time to go home,"
Pa said to me.
I knew then I could talk,
I could even laugh out loud.
But I was a whadow
as we walked home.
When you go owling
you don't need words
or warm
or anything but hope.
That's what Pa ways.
The kind of hope
that flies
on silent sings
under a shining
Owl Moon.
-
THE BROOM SNAPPED IN TWO!
THE BROOM SNAPPED IN TWO!
Down fell the cat and the dog
and the frog.
Down they went tumbling
into a bog.
The witch's half-broomstick
flew into a cloud,
And the witch heard a roar
that was scary and loud...
"I am a dragon, as mean as can be,
And witch with french fries
tastes delicious to me!"
"No!" cried the witch,
flying higher and higher.
The dragon flew after her,
breathing out fire.
"Help!" cried the witch,
flying down to the ground.
She looked all around
but no help could be found.
The dragon drew near
with a glint in his eyes,
And said," Just this once
I'll have witch without fries."
But just as he planned
to begin on his feast,
From out of a ditch
rose a horrible beast.
It was tall, dark, and stickly,
and feathered and furred.
It had four frightful heads,
It had wings like a bird.
And its terrible voice,
When it started to speak,
Was a yowl and growl
and a croak and a shriek.
It dripped and it squelched
as it strode from the ditch,
And it sain to the dragon,
"Buzz off!--
-
Something from Nothing
by Phoebe Gilman
01 - When Joseph was a baby, his grandfather made him a wonderful blanket...
02 - ...to keep him warm and cozy and to chase away bad breams.
But as Joseph grew older, the wonderful blanket grew older too.
03 - One day his mother said to him, "Joseph, look at your blanket. It's frazzled, it's worn, it's unsightly, it's torn. It is time to throw it out."
04 - "Grandpa can fix it," Joseph said.
Joseph's grandfather took the blanket and turned it round and round.
05 - "Hmm," he said as his scissors went snip, snip, snip and his needle flew in and out and in and out, "There's just enough material here to make..."
06 - ...a wonderful jacket. Joseph put on the wonderful jacket and went outside to play.
But as Joseph grew older, the wonderful jacket grew older too.
07 - One day his mother said to him, "Joseph, look at your jacket. It's shrunken and small, doesn't fit you at all. It is time to throw it out!"
08 - "Grandpa can fix it," Joseph said.
Joseph's grandfather took the jacket and turned it round and round.
09 - "Hmm," he said as his scissors went snip, snip, snip and his needle flew in and out and in and out, "There's just enough material here to make..."
10 - ...a wonderful vest. Joseph wore the wonderful vest to school the very next day.
But as Joseph grew older, the wonderful vest grew older too.
11 - One day his mother said to him, "Joseph, look at your vest! It's spotted with glue and there's paint on it too. It is time to throw it out!"
12 - "Grandpa can fix it," Joseph said.
Joseph's grandfather took the vest and turned it round and round.
13 - "Hmm," he said as his scissors went snip, snip, snip and his needle flew in and out and in and out, "There's just enough material here to make..."
14 - ...a wonderful tie. Joseph wore the wonderful tie to his grandparents' house every Friday.
But as Joseph grew older, the wonderful tie grew older too.
15 - One day his mother said to him, "Joseph, look at your tie! This bug stain of soup makes the end of it droop. It is time to throw it out!"
16 - "Grandpa can fix it," Joseph said.
Joseph's grandfather took the tie and turned it round and round.
17 - "Hmm," he said as his scissors went snip, snip, snip and his needle flew in and out and in and out, "There's just enough material here to make..."
18 - ...a wonderful handkerchief. Joseph used the wonderful handkerchief to keep his pebble collection safe.
But as Joseph grew older, the wonderful handkerchief grew older too.
19 - One day his mother said to him, "Joseph, look at your handkerchief! It's been used till it's tattered, it's splotched and it's splattered. It is time to THROW IT OUT!"
20 - "Grandpa can fix it," Joseph said.
Joseph's grandfather took the handkerchief and turned it round and round.
21 - "Hmm," he said as his scissors went snip, snip, snip and his needle flew in and out and in and out, "There's just enough material here to make..."
22 - ...a wonderful button. Joseph wore the wonderful button on his suspenders to hold his pants up.
23 - One day his mother said to him, "Joseph, where is your button?"
Joseph looked. It was gone!
24 - He searched everywhere but he could not find it. Joseph ran down to his grandfather's house.
25 - "My button! My wonderful button is lost!" His mother ran after him. "Joseph! Listen to me."
26 - "The button is gone, finished, kaput. Even your grandfather can't make something from nothing."
Joseph's grandfather shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that your mother is right," he said.
27 - The next day Joseph went to school. "Hmm," he said, as his pen went scritch scratch, scritch scratch, over the paper. "There's just enough material here to make..."
28 - ...a wonderful story. -
The Gruffalo's Child 咕噜牛小妞妞
by Julia Donaldson Illustrated by Axel Scheffler
The Gruffalo said that no grufflao should
Ever set Foot in the deep dark wood.
"Why not? Why not?" "Because if you do
The Big Bad Mouse will be after you.
I met hime once, " said the gruffalo,
"I met him a long long time ago."
" What does he look like? Tell us, Dad.
Is he terribly big and terribly bad?"
" I can't quite remember," the Gruffalo said.
The he thought for a minute and scratched his head.
" The Big Bad Mouse is terribly strong
And his scaly tail is terribly long.
His eyes are like pools of terrible fire
And his terrible whiskers are tougher than wire."
One snowy night when the Gruffalo snored
The Gruffalo's Child was feeling bored.
The Gruffalo's Child was feeling brave
So she tiptoed out of the gruffalo cave.
The snow fell fast and the wind blew wild.
Into the wood went the Gruffalo's Child.
Aha! Oho! Atrail in the snow!
Whose is this trail and where does it go?
A tail poked out of a logpile house.
Could this be the tail of the Big Bad Mouse?
Out slid the creature. His eyes were small
And he didn't have whiskers- no,none at all.
"You're not the Mouse." "Bit I," said the snake.
"He's down by the lake -eating gruffalo cake."
The snow fell fast and the wind blew wild.
"I'm not scared," said the Gruffalo's Child.
Aha! Oho! Marks in the snow!
Whose are these claw marks? Where do they go?
Two eyes gleamed out of a treetop house.
Could these be the eyes of the Big Bad Mouse?
Down flew the creature. his tail was short
And he didn't have whiskers of any sort.
"You'r not the Mouse." "Toowhoo,not I,
But he's somewhere nearby, eating gruffalo pie."
The snow fell fast and the wind blew wild.
"I'm not scared," said the Gruffalo's Child.
Aha! Oho! A track in the snow!
Whose is this track and where does it go?
Whiskers at last! And an underground house!
Could this be the home of the Big Bad Mouse?
Out slunk the creature. His eyes weren't fiery.
His tail wasn't scaly. His whiskers weren't wiry.
"You're not the Mouse." " Oh no, not me.
He's under a tree- drinking grufflao tea."
"It's all a trick!" said the Gruffalo's Child
As she sat on a stump where the snow ly piled.
"I don't believe in the Big Bad Mouse...
"But here comes a little on, out of his house!
Not big, Not bad, but a mouse at least-
You'll taste good as a midnight feast."
"Wait!" said the mouse. "Before you eat,
There's a friend of mine that you ought to meet.
If you'll let me hop ono a hazel twig
I'll beckon my friend so bad and big."
The Gruffalo's Child unclenched her fist.
"The Big Bad Mouse- so he does exist!"
The mouse hopped into the hazel tree.
He beckoned, then said,"Just wait and see."
Out came the moon. It was bright and round.
A terrible shadow fell onto the ground.
Who is this creature so big, bad and strong?
His tail and his whiskers are terribly long.
His ears are enormous, and over his shoulder
He carries a nut as big as a boulder!
"The Big Bad Mouse!"yelled the Gruffalo's Child.
The mouse jumped down from the twig and smiled.
Aha! Oho! prints in the snow.
Whose are these footprints? where do they go?
The footprints led to the gruffalo cave
Where the Gruffalo's Child was a bit less brave.
The Gruffalo's CHild was a bit less bored...
And the gruffalo snored
and snored and snored.
-
The Missing Piece
-Shel Silverstein
It was missing a piece.
And it was not happy.
So it set off in search
of its missing piece.
And as it rolled
it sang this song --
"Oh, I'm lookin' for my missin' piece
I'm lookin' for my missin' piece
Hi-dee-ho, here I go,
Lookin' for my missin' piece."
Sometimes it baked in the sun
but then the cool rain would come down.
And sometimes it was frozen by the snow
but then the sun would come and warm it again.
And because it was missing a piece
it could not roll very fast
so it would stop
to talk to a worm
or smell a flower
and sometimes it would pass a beetle
and sometimes the beetle
would pass it
and this was the best time of all.
And on it went,
over oceans
"Oh I'm lookin' for my missin' piece
Over land and over seas
So grease my knees and fleece my bees
I'm lookin' for my missin' piece."
through swamps and jungles
up mountains
and down mountains
Until one day, lo and behold!
"I've found my missin' piece," it sang,
"I've found my missin' piece
So grease my knees and fleece my bees
I've found my..."
"Wait a minute," said the piece.
"Before you go greasing your knees
And fleecing your bees...
"I am not your missing piece.
I am nobody's piece.
I am my own piece.
And even if I was
somebody's missing piece
I don't think I'd be yours!"
"Oh," it sang sadly,
"I'm sorry to have bothered you."
And on it rolled.
It found another piece
but this one was too small.
And this one was too big
this one was a little too sharp
and this one was too square.
One time it seemed
to have found
the perfect piece
but it didn't hold tightly enough
and lost it.
Another time
it held too tightly
and it broke.
So on and on it rolled,
having adventures
falling into holes
and bumping into stone walls.
And then one day it came upon
another piece that seemed
to be just right.
"Hi," it said.
"Hi," said the piece.
"Are you anybody else's missing piece?"
"Not that I know of."
"Well, maybe you want to be your own piece?"
"I can be someone else's and still be my own."
"Well, maybe you don't want to be mine."
"Maybe I do."
"Maybe we won't fit...."
"Well..."
"Hummm?"
"Ummmm!"
It fit!
It fit perfectly!
At last! At last!
And away it rolled
and because it was
now complete,
it rolled faster
and faster.
Faster than it had
ever rolled before!
So fast that it could not stop
to talk to a worm
or smell a flower
too fast for a butterfly to land.
But it could sing it's happy song,
at last it could sing
"I've found my missing piece."
And it began to sing-
"I've frown my nizzin' geez
Uf vroun my mitzin' brees
So krease ny meas
An bleez ny drees
Uf frown..."
Oh my, now that
it was complete
it could not sing at all.
"Aha," it thought.
"So that's how it is!"
So it stopped rolling...
and it set the piece down gently,
and slowly rolled away
and as it rolled it softly sang-
"Oh I'm lookin' for my missin' piece
I'm looking for my missin' piece
Hi-dee-ho, here I go,
Lookin' for my missin' piece."
-
The true story of the 3 little pigs
Everybody knows the story of the three little pigs. Or at least they think they do. But I’ll let you in on a little secret. Nobody knows the real story, because nobody hs ever heard my side of the story.
I’m the wolf. Alexander T. Wolf.
You can call me Al.
I don’t know how this whole Big Bad Wolf thing got started, but it’s all wrong.
Maybe it’s because of our diet.
Hey, it’s not my fault whoves eat cute little animals like bunnies and sheep and pigs. That’s just the way we are. If cheeseburgers were cute, folks would probably think you were Big and Bad, too.
But like I was saying,
The whole Big Bad Wolf thing is all wrong. The real story is about a sneeze and a cup of sugar.
This is the real story.
Way back in Once Upon a Time time, I was making a birthday cake for my dar old granny. I had a terrible sneezing cold. I ran out of sugar.
So I walked down the street to ask my neighbor for a cup of sugar. Now this neighbor was a pig.
And he wasn’t too bright, eight.
He had built his whole house out of straw.
Can you believe it? I mean who in his right mind would build a house of straw?
So of course the minute I knocked on the door, it fell right in. I didn’t want to just walk into someone else’s house. So I called,”Little Pig, Little Pig, are you in?”No answer.
I was just about to go home without the cup of sugar for my dear old granndy’s birthday cake.
That’s when my nose started to itch.
I felt a sneeze coming on.
Well I huffed.
And I snuffed.
And I sneezed a great sneeze.
And you know what? That whole darn straw house fell down. And right in the middle of the pile of straw was the First Little Pig-dead as a doornail.
He had been home the whole time.
It seemed like a shame to leave a perfectly good ham dinner lying there in the straw. So I ate it up.
Think of it as a big cheeseburger just lying there.
I was feeling a little better. But I still didn’t have my cup of sugar. So I went to the next neighbor’s house.
This neighbor was the First Little Pig’s brother.
He was a little smarter, but no much.
He had built his house of sticks.
I rang the bell on the stick house.
Nobody answered.
I called,”Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, are you in?”
He yelled back, “Go away wolf. You can’t come in. I’m shaving the hairs on my chinny chin chin.”
I had just grabbed the doorknob when I felt another sneeze coming on.
I huffed. And I snuffed. And I tried to cover my mouth,but I sneezed a great sneeze.
And you’re not going to believe it, but his guy’s houe fell down just like his brother’s.
When the dust cleared, there was the Second Little Pig-dead as a doornail. Wolf’s honor.
Now you know food will spoil if you just leave it out in the open. So I did the only thing there was to do.
I had dinner again.
Think of it as a second helping.
I was getting awfully full.
But my cold was feeling a little better.
And I still didn’t have that cup of sugar for my dear old granny’s birthday cake.
So I went to the next house. This guy was the First and Second Little Pig’s brother. He must have been the brains of the family.
He had built his house of bricks.
I knocked on the brick house. No answer.
I called, “Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, are you in?”
And do you know what that rude little porker answered?
“Get out of here, Wolf. Don’t bother me again.”
Talk about impolite!
He probably had a whole sackful of sugar.
And he wouldn’t give me even one little cup for my dear sweet old granny’s birthday cake.
What a pig!
I was just about to go home and maybe make a nice birthday card instead of a cake, when I felt my cold coming on.
I huffed.
And I snuffed.
And I sneezed once again.
Then the Third little pig yelled, “And your old granny can sit on a pin!”
Now I’m usually a pretty calm fellow. But when somebody talks about my granny like that, I go a little crazy.
When the cops drove up, of course I was trying to break down this Pig’s door. And the whole time I was huffing and puffing and sneezing and making a real scene.
The rest, as they say, is history.
The news reporters found out about the two pigs I had for dinner. They figured a sick guy going to borrow a cup of sugar didn’t sound very exciting.
So they jazzed up the story with all of that “Huff and puff and blow your house down.”
And they made me the Big Bad Wolf.
That’s it.
The real story. I was framed.
But maybe you could loan me a cup of sugar.
-
The very busy spider
Eric Carle
Early one morning the wind blew a spider across the field.
A thin, silky thread trailed from her body.
The spider landed on a fencepost near a farm yard . . .
and began to spin a web with her silky thread.
"Neigh! Neigh!" said the horse. "Want to go for a ride?"
The spider didn't answer. She was very busy spinning her web.
"Moo! Moo!" said the cow. :Want to eat some grass?"
The spider didn't answer. She was very busy spinning her web.
"Baa! Baa!" bleated the sheep. "Want to run in the meadow?"
The spider didn't answer. She was very busy spinning her web.
"Maa! Maa!" said the goat. "Want to jump on the rocks?"
The spider didn't answer. She was very busy spinning her web.
"Oink! Oink!" grunted the pig. "Want to roll in the mud?"
The spider didn't answer. She was very busy spinning her web.
"Woof! Woof!" barked the dog. "Want to chase a cat?"
The spider didn't answer. She was very busy spinning her web.
"Meow! Meow!" eried the cat. "Want to take a nap?"
The spider didn't answer. She was very busy spinning her web.
"Quack! Quack!" called the duck. "Want to go for a swim?"
The spider didn't answer. She had now finished her web.
"Cock-a-doodle do!" crowed the rouster. "Want to catch a pesty fly?"
And the spider caught the fly in her web . . . just like that!
"Whoo? Whoo?" asked the owl. "Who built this beautiful web?"
The spider didn't answer. She had fallen asleep.
It had been a very, very busy day.
-
The Wolf's Chicken Stew
There once lived a wolf who loved to eat more than anything else in the world. As soon as he finished one meal, he began to think of the next.
One day the wolf got a terrible craving for chicken stew.
All day long he walked across the forest in search of a delicious chicken. Finally he spotted one.
"Ah, she is just perfect for my stew," he thought.
The wolf crept closer. But just as he was about to grab his prey...
he had another idea.
"If there were just some way to fatten this bird a little more," he thought, "there would be all the more stew for me." So...
the wolf ran home to his kitchen, and he began to cook.
First he made a hundred scrumptious pancakes. Then, late at night, he left them on the chicken's porch.
"Eat well, my pretty chicken," he cried. "Get nice and fat for my stew!"
The next night he brought a hundred scrumptious doughnuts.
"Eat well, my pretty chicken," he cried. "Get nice and fat for my stew!"
And on the next night he brought a scrumptious cake weighing a hundred pounds.
"Eat well, my pretty chicken," he cried. "Get nice and fat for my stew!"
At last, all was ready. This was the night he had been waiting for. He put a large stwe pot on the fire and set out joyfully to find his dinner.
"That chicken must be as fat as a balloon by now," he thought. "Let's see."
But as he peeked into the chicken's house...
the door opened suddenly and the chicken screeched, "Oh, so it was you, Mr. Wolf!"
"Children, children! Look, the pancakes and the doughnuts and that scrumptious cake ---- they weren't from Santa Claus! All those presents were from Uncle Wolf!"
The baby chicks jumped all over the wolf and gave him a hundred kisses.
"Oh, thank you, Uncle Wolf! You're the best cook in the world!"
Uncle Wolf didn't have chicken stew that night but Mrs. Chicken fixed him a nice dinner anyway.
"Aw, shucks," he thought, as he walked home, "maybe tomorrow I'll bake the little critters a hundred scrumptious cookies!"
-
This is Gossie.
Gossie is a gosling.
A small,yellow gosling who
like to wear bright red boots.
Every day.
She wears them
when she eats.
She wears them when she sleeps.
She wears them when she rides.
She wears them when she hides.
But what Gossie really loves
is to wear her bright red boots
when she goes for walks.
Every day.
She walks backward.
She walks forward.
Almost every day.
She walks in the rain.
She walks in the snow.
She walks uphill.
She walks downhill.
Gossie loves to wear
her bright red boots!
Every day.
One morning Gossie could
not find her bright red boots.
She looked everywhere.
Under the bed.
Over the wall.
In the barn.
Under the hens.
Gossie looked and looked
for her bright red boots.
They were gone.
Gossie was heartbroken.
Then she saw them.
They were walking.
On someone else's feet!
"Great boots!"said Gertie.
Gossie smiled.
Gossie is a gosling.
A small,yellow gosling who
like to wear bright red boots.
Almost every day.
-
Miss Rumphius
01 - The Lupine Lady lives in a small house overlooking the sea. In between the rocks around her house grow blue and purple and rose-colored flowers. The Lupine Lady is little and old. But she has not always been that way. I know. She is my great-aunt, and she told me so.
Once upon a time she was a little girl named Alice, who lived in a city by the sea. From the front stoop she could see the wharves and the bristling masts of tall ships. Many years ago her grandfather had ***e to America on a large sailing ship.
02 - Now he worked in the shop at the bottom of the house, making figureheads for the prows of ships, and carving Indians out of wood to put in front of cigar stores. For Alice's grandfather was an artist. He painted pic***es, too, of sailing ships and places across the sea. When he was very busy, Alice helped him put in the skies.
03 - In the evening Alice sat on her grandfather's knee and listened to his stories of faraway places. When he had finished, Alice would say, "When I grow up, I too will go to faraway places, and when I grow old, I too will live beside the sea."
"That is all very well, little Alice," said her grandfather, "but there is a third thing you must do."
"What is that?" asked Alice.
"You must do something to make the world more beautiful," said her grandfather.
"All right," said Alice. But she did not know what that could be.
In the meantime Alice got up and washed her face and ate porridge for breakfast. She went to school and came home and did her homework.
And pretty soon she was grown up.
04 - Then my Great-aunt Alice set out to do the three things she had told her grandfather she was going to do. She left home and went to live in another city far from the sea and the salt air. There she worked in a library, dusting books and keeping them from getting mixed up, and helping people find the ones they wanted. Some of the books told her about faraway places.
People called her Miss Rumphius now.
05 - Sometimes she went to the conservatory in the middle of the park. When she stepped inside on a wintry day, the warm moist air wrapped itself around her, and the sweet smell of jasmine filled her nose.
"This is almost ***e a tropical isle," said Miss Rumphius. "But not quite."
06 - So Miss Rumphius went to a real tropical island, where people kept cockatoos and monkeys as pets. She walked on long beaches, picking up beautiful shells. One day she met the Bapa Raja, king of a fishing village.
"You must be tired," he said. "***e into my house and rest."
So Miss Rumphius went in and met the Bapa Raja's wife. The Bapa Raja himself fetched a green coconut and cut a slice off the top so that Miss Rumphius could drink the coconut water inside. Before she left, the Bapa Raja gave her a beautiful mother-of-pearl shell on which he had painted a bird of paradise and the words, "You will always remain in my heart."
"You will always remain in mine too," said Miss Rumphius.
07 - My great-aunt Miss Alice Rumphius climbed tall mountains where the snow never melted. She went through jungles and across deserts. She saw lions playing and kangaroos jumping. And everywhere she made friends she would never forget. Finally she came to the Land of the Lotus-Eaters, and there, getting off a camel, she hurt her back.
"What a foolish thing to do," said Miss Rumphius. "Will, I have certainly seen faraway places. Maybe it is time to find my place by the sea."
And it was, and she did.
08 - From the porch of her new house Miss Rumphius watched the sun ***e up; she watched it cross the heavens and sparkle on the water; and she saw it set in glory in the evening. She started a little garden among the rocks that surrounded her house, and she planted a few flower seeds in the stony ground. Miss Rumphius was almost perfectly happy.
"But there is still one more thing I have to do," she said. "I have to do something to make the world more beautiful."
But what? "The world already is pretty nice," she thought, looking out over the ocean.
09 - The next spring Miss Rumphius was not very well. Her back was bothering her again, and she had to stay in bed most of the time.
The flowers she had planted the summer before had ***e up and bloomed in spite of the stony ground. She could see them from her bedroom window, blue and purple and rose-colored.
"Lupines," said Miss Rumphius with satisfaction. "I have always loved lupines the best. I wish I could plant more seeds this summer so that I could have still more flowers next year."
But she was not able to.
10 - After a hard winter spring came. Miss Rumphius was feeling much better. Now she could take walks again. One afternoon she started to go up and over the hill, where she had not been in a long time.
"I don't believe my eyes!" she cried when she got to the top. For there on the other side of the hill was a large patch of blue and purple and rose-colored lupines!
"It was the wind," she said as she knelt in delight. "It was the wind that brought the seeds from my garden here! And the birds must have helped!"
Then Miss Rumphius had a wonderful idea!
11 - She hurried home and got out her seed catalogues. She sent off to the very best seed house for five bushels of lupine seed.
All that summer Miss Rumphius, her pockets full of seeds, wandered over fields and headlands, sowing lupines. She scattered seeds along the highways and down the country lanes. She flung handfuls of them around the schoolhouse and back of the church. She tossed them into hollows and along stone walls.
Her back didn't hurt her any more at all.
Now some people called her That Crazy Old Lady.
12 - The next spring there were lupines everywhere. Fields and hillsides were covered with blue and purple and rose-colored flowers. They bloomed along the highways and down the lanes. Bright patches lay around the schoolhouse and back of the church. Down in the hollows and along the stone walls grew the beautiful flowers.
Miss Rumphius had done the third, the most difficult thing of all!
13 - My Great-aunt Alice, Miss Rumphius, is very old now. Her hair is very white. Every year there are more and more lupines. Now they call her the Lupine Lady. Sometimes my friends stand with me outside her gate, curious to see the old, old lady who planted the fields of lupines. When she invites us in, we ***e slowly. We think she is the oldest woman in the world. Often she tells us stories of faraway places.
"When I grow up," I tell her, "I too will go to faraway places and ***e home to live by the sea."
"That is all very well, little Alice," says my aunt, "but there is a third thing you must do."
"What is that?" I ask.
"You must do something to make the world more beautiful."
"All right," I say.
14 - But I do not know yet what that can be.
-
环游世界做苹果派》
How to Make an Apple Pie and See the World
By Marjorie Priceman
Making an apple pie is really very easy. First, get all the ingredients at the market. Mix the well, bake, and serve.
Unless, of course, the market is closed.
In that case, go home and pack a suitcase. Take your shopping list and some walking shoes. Then catch a steamship bound for Europe. Use the six days on board to brush up on your Italian.
If you time it right, you'll arrive in Italy at harvest time. Find a farm deep in the countryside. Gather some superb semolina wheat. An armful or two will do.
Then hop a train to France and locate a chicken.
French chickens lay elegant eggs-and you want only the finest ingredients for your pie. Coax the chicken to give you an egg. Better yet, bring the chicken with you. There's less chance of breaking the egg that way. Get to Sri Lanka any way you can.
You can't miss it. Sri Lanka is a pear-shaped island in the Indian Ocean. The best cinnamon in the world is made there from the bark of the native kurundu tree and peel off some bark. If a leopard is napping beneath the tree, be very quiet.
Hitch a ride to England. Make the acquaintance of a cow. You'll know she's an English cow from her good manners and charming accent. Ask if you can borrow a cup or two of milk. Even better, bring the whole cow with you for the freshest possible results.
Stow away on a banana boat headed to Jamaica. On your way there, you can pick up some salt. Fill a jar with salty sea water.
When the boat docks in Jamaica, walk to the nearest sugar plantation. Introduce yourself to everyone. Tell them about the pie you're making. Then go into the fields and cit a few stalks of sugar cane.
Better fly home. You don't want the ingredients to spoil.
Wait a minute. Aren't you forgetting something? WHAT ABOUT THE APPLES? Have the pilot drop you off in Vermont.
You won't have to go far to find an apple orchard. Pick eight rosy apples from the top of the tree. Give one to the chicken, one to the cow, and eat one yourself. That leaves five for the pie. Then hurry home.
Now all you have to do is mill the wheat into flour, grind the kurundu bark into cinnamon, evaporate the seawater from the salt, boil the sugar cane, persuade the chicken to lay an egg, milk the cow, churn the milk into butter, slice the apples, mix the ingredients, and bake the pie. While the pie is cooling, invite some friends over to share it with you.
Remember that apple pie is delicious topped with vanilla ice cream, which you can get at the market. But if it happens to be closed...
YOU CAN EAT IT PLAIN!
-
《女巫扫帚排排坐》 Room on the Broom
The witch had a cat
and a hat that was black,
And long ginger hair
in a braid down her back.
How the cat purred
and how the witch grinned,
As they sat on their broomstick
and flew through the wind.
But how the witch wailed
and how the cat spat,
When the wind blew so wildly,
it blew off the hat.
"Down!" cried the witch,
and they flew to the ground.
They searched for the hat,
but no hat could be found.
Then out of the bushes
on thundering paws
There bounded a dog
with the hat in his jaws.
He dropped it politely,
then eagerly said
(As the witch pulled the hat
firmly down on her head),
"I am a dog,as keen as can be.
Is there room on the broom
for a dog like me?"
"Yes!" cried the witch,
and the dog clambered on.
The witch tapped the broomstick and
whoosh! they were gone.
Over the fields and the
forests they flew.
The dog wagged his tail
and the stormy wind blew.
The witch laughed out loud
and held on to her hat,
But away blew the bow
from her brain--just like that!
"Down!" cried the witch,
and they flew to the ground.
They searched for the bow,
but no bow could be found.
Then out from a tree
with an ear-splitting shriek,
There flapped a green bird
with the bow in her beak.
SHe dropped it politely,
and bent her head low,
Then said (as the witch
tied her braid in the bow),
"I am a bird,
as green as can be.
Is there room on the broom
for a bird like me?"
"Yes!" cried the witch,
so the bird fluttered on.
The witch tapped the broomstick and
whoosh! they were gone.
Over the reeds and the
rivers they flew.
The bird shrieked with glee
and the stormy wind blew.
They shot through the sky
to the back of beyoud.
The witch clutched her bow--
but let go of her wand.
"Down!"cried the witch,
and they flew to the ground.
They searched for the wand,
but no wand could be found.
Then all of a sudden
from out of a pond
Leaped a dripping wet frog
with a dripping wet wand.
He dropped it politely,
then said with a croak
(As the witch dried the wand
on a fold of her cloak),
"I am a frog, as clean as can be.
Is there room on the broom
for a frog like me?"
"Yes!" said the witch, so the frog
bounded on.
The witch tapped the broomstick and
whoosh! they were gone.
Over the moors and the
mountains they flew.
The frog jumped for joy and...
-
图书馆狮子，英文原文
Page 1
One Day, a lion came to the library. He walked right past the front desk and disappeared between the bookshelves.
Page 3
Mr McBee ran down the hall to the head librarian's office. "Miss Merriweather!" he shouted.
"No running," said Miss Merriweather, without looking up.
"But there's a lion!" said Mr McBee. "In the library!"
"Is he breaking any rules?" asked Miss Merriweather. She was very particular about rule breaking.
"Well, no," said Mr McBee. "Not really."
"Then leave him be."
Page 5
The lion wandered around the library. He sniffed the card index. He rubbed his head against the new book collection.
Page 6
Then he padded over to the story corner and went to sleep. No one knew what to do. There weren't any rules about lions in the library.
Page 7
It was soon storytime. There weren't any rules about lion at storytime either.
The story lady seemed a little nervous. But she read out the title of the first book in a strong, clear voice. The lion looked up. The story lady kept on reading.
The lion stayed for the next story. And the story after that. He waited for another story, but the children began to walk away.
Page 8
"Storytime is over," a little girl told him.
The lion looked at the children. He looked at the story lady. He looked at the closed books. Then he roared very loudly.
RAAAHHRRRR!
Page 9
Miss Merriweather came marching out of her office. "Who is making that noise?" she demanded.
"It's the lion," said Mr McBee.
Miss Merriweather marched over to the lion. "If you can't be quiet, then you'll have to leave," she said in a stern voice. "Those are the rules!"
The lion kept roaring. he sounded sad.
The little girl tugged on Miss Merriweather's dress. "If he promises to be quiet, can he come back for storytime tomorrow?" she asked.
The lion stopped roaring. He looked at Miss Merriweather.
Miss Merriweather looked back. Then she said, "Yes. A nice, quiet lion would certainly be allowed to come back for storytime tomorrow."
"Hooray!" cried the children.
Page 11
The next day, the lion came back.
"You're early," said Miss Merriweather. "Storytime isn't until three o'clock."
The lion did not move.
"Very well," said Miss Merriweather. "You might as well make yourself useful." She sent him off to dust the encyclopaedias until storytime.
Page 12
The next day, the lion arrived early again. This time, Miss Merriweather asked him to lick the envelopes for the overdue notes.
Page 14
Soon the lion started doing jobs without being asked. He dusted the encyclopaedias. he licked the envelopes. He let small children stand on his back to reach the books on the highest shelves.
Then he curled up in the story corner to wait for storytime to begin.
Page 15
At first, people in the library were nervous about the lion, but soon they were used to having him there. In fact, he seemed very well suited to the library. His big feet were quiet on the library floor. He made a comfy backrest for the children at storytime. And he never roared in the library any more.
"What a helpful lion," people said. They pated his soft head as he walked by. "How did we ever get by without him?"
Mr McBee scowled when he heard that. hey had always managed fine before. No lions were needed! Lions, he thought, could not understand rules. They did not belong in the library.
Page 17
One day, after he had dusted all the encyclopaedias and licked all the envelopes and helped all the small children, the lion padded down the hall to Miss Merriweather's office to see what else there was to do. There was still a while until storytime.
"Hello, Lion," said Miss Merriweather. " I have something you can do. You can take a book back to the front desk for me. Let me just get it down from the shelf."
Miss Merriweather stepped up onto the stool. The book was just out of her reach.
Miss Merriweather stood on the toes. She stretched out her fingers.
"Almost... there..." she said.
Then Miss Merriweather stretched a little too far.
Page 20
"Ouch," said Miss Merriweather softly. She did not get up.
"Mr McBee!" she called after a minute. "Mr McBee!"
But Mr McBee was at the front desk. He could not hear her calling.
"Lion," said Miss Merriweather. "Please go and get Mr McBee."
The lion ran down the hall.
"No running," Miss Merriweather called after him.
Page 21
He put his big paws up on the front desk and looked at Mr McBee.
"Go away, Lion," said Mr McBee. "I'm busy."
The lion whined. He pointed his nose down the hall towards Miss Merriweather's office.
Mr McBee ignored him.
Finally, the lion did the only thing he could think of to do. He looked Mr McBee straight in the eye. Then he opened his mouth very wide. And he roared the loudest roar he had ever roared in his life.
RAAAHHHRRR!
Page 23
Mr McBee gasped.
"You're not being quiet!" he said to the lion. "You're breaking the rules!"
Mr McBee walked down the hall as fast as he could.
The lion did not follow him. He had broken the rules. He knew waht that meant. He hung his head and walked towards the door.
Mr McBee did not notice." Miss Merriweather!" he called as he walked. "Miss Merriweather! The lion has broken the rules! The lion has broken the rules!"
Page 25
He burst into Miss Merriweather's office.
She was not in her chair.
"Miss Merriweather?" he asked.
"Sometimes," said Miss Merriweather from the floor behind her desk, "there is a good reason to break the rules. Even in the library. Now please go and call a doctor. I think I've broken my arm."
Mr McBee ran to call a doctor.
"No running!" Miss Merriweather called after him.
Page 27
The next day things were back to normal -- almost.
Miss Merriweather's left arm was in a sling. The doctor had told her not to work too hard.
I will have my lion to help me, Miss Merriweather thought. But the lion did not come to the library that morning.
At three o'clock, Miss Merriweather walked over to the story corner. The story lady was just starting to read. The lion was not there.
Page 29
People in the library kept looking up from their books and computers, hoping that they would see a familiar furry face. But the lion did not come that day.
The lion did not come the next day either. Or the day after that.
Page 32
One evening, Mr McBee stopped at Miss Merriweather's office as he was leaving the library. "Can I do anything for you before I go, Miss Merriweather?" he asked her.
"No, thank you," said Miss Merriweather. She was looking out of the window. her voice was very quiet. Even for the library.
Mr McBee frowned as he walked away. He thought there probably was something he could do for Miss Merriweather.
Page 33
Mr McBee left the library. But he did not go home.
Page 34
He walked around the nearby streets. He looked under cars. He looked behind bushes. He looked in back gardens and rubbish bins and up trees.
Page 36
Finally he ended up back at the library.
The lion was sitting outside, looking in through the glass doors.
"Hello, Lion," said Mr McBee.
The lion did not turn around.
"I thought you might like to know," said Mr McBee, "that there's a new rule at th library. No roaring allowed, unless you have a very good reason -- say, if you're trying to help a friend who's been hurt, for example."
The lion's ears twitched. He turned around.
But Mr McBee was already walking away.
Page 37
The next day, Mr McBee walked down the hall to Miss Merriweather's office.
"What is it, Mr McBee?" asked Miss Merriweather in her new, sad, quiet voice.
"I thought you might like to know," said Mr McBee, "that there's a lion. In the library."
Miss Merriweather jumped up from her chair and ran down the hall.
Mr McBee smiled. "No running!" he called after her.
Miss Merriweather didn't listen.
Page 40
Sometimes there was a good reason to break the rules.
Even in the library.
-
《有一天》Someday
One day I counted your fingers and kissed each one
One day the first snowflakes fell, and I held you up and watched them melt on your baby skin.
One day, we crossed the street, and you held my hand tight.
Then, you were my baby, and now you are my child.
Sometimes, when you sleep, I watch your dream, and I dream too......
That someday you will dive into the cool, clear water of a lake.
Someday you will walk into a deep wood.
Someday your eyes will be filled with a joy so deep that they shine.
Someday you will run so fast and so far your heart will feel like fire.
Someday you will swing high so high, higher than you ever dared to swing.
Someday you will hear something so sad that you will fold up with sorrow.
Someday you will call a song to the wind, and the wind will carry your song away.
Someday I will stand on this porch and watch your arms waving to me until I no longer see you.
Someday you will look at this house and wonder how something that feels so big can look so small.
Someday you will feel a small weight against your strong back.
Someday I will watch you brushing your child's hair.
Someday, a long time from now, your own hair will glow silver in the sun.
And when that day comes, love, you will remember me.
-
小塞尔采蓝莓
One day, Little Sal went with her mother to Blueberry Hill to pick blueberries. Little Sal brought along her small tin pail and her mother brought her large tin pail to put berries in.
“We will take our berries home and can them,” said her mother.
“Then we will have food for the winter.”
Little Sal picked three berries and dropped them in her little tin pail…
Kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk!
More berries and dropped one in the pail-kuplunk! And the rest she ate.
Then Little Sal ate all four blueberries out of her pail!
Her mother walked slowly through the bushes, picking blueberries as she went and putting them in her pail.
Little Sal struggled along behind, picking blueberries and eating every single one.
Little Sal hurried ahead and dropped a blueberry in her mother’s pail.
It didn’t sound kuplink!
Because the bottom of the pail was already covered with berries.
She reached down inside to get her berry back.
Though she really didn’t mean to, she pulled out a large handful, because there were so many blueberries right up close to the one she had put in.
Her mother stopped picking and said,
“Now, Sal, you run along and pick your own berries.
Mother wants to take her berries home and can them for next winter.”
Her mother went back to her picking, but Little Sal, because her feet were tired of standing and walking, sat down in the middle of a large clump of bushes and ate blueberries.
On the other side of Blueberry Hill, Little Bear came with his mother to eat blueberries.
“Little Bear,” she said, “eat lots of berries and grow big and fat. We must store up food for the long, cold winter.”
Little Bear followed behind his mother as she walked slowly through the bushes eating berries. Little Bear stopped now and then to eat berries.
Because his feet were tired of hustling, he picked out a large clump of bushes and sat down right in the middle and ate blueberries.
Over on the other side of the hill, Little Sal ate all of the berries she could reach from where she was sitting, then she started out to find her mother.
She heard a noise from around a rock and thought,
“That is my mother walking along!”
But it was a mother crow and her children, and they stopped eating berries and flew away, saying, “caw, Caw, Caw.” Then she heard another noise in the bushes and thought, “That is surely my mother and I will go that way.”
But it was Little Bear’s mother instead. She was tramping along, eating berries, and thinking about storing up food for the winter. Little Sal tramped right along behind.
By this time, Little Bear eaten all the berries he could reach without moving from his mother. He hunted and hunted but his mother was nowhere to be seen. He heard a noise from over a stump and thought, “That is my mother walking along.”
But it was a mother partridge and her children. They stopped eating berries and hurried away. Then he heard a noise in the bushes and thought, “That is surely my mother. I will hustle that way!”
But it was Little Sal’s mother instead! She was walking along, picking berries, and thinking about canning them for next winter. Little Bear hustled along behind.
Little Bear and Little Sal’s mother and Little Sal and Little Bear’s mother were all mixed up with each other among the blueberries on Blueberry Hill.
Little Bear’s mother heard Sal walking along behind and thought it was little bear and she said, “Little bear,” munch, munch, “eat all you…” gulp, “can possibly hold!” swallow. Little Sal said nothing. She picked three berries and dropped them, kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk, in her small tin pail.
Little Bear’s mother turned around to see what on earth could make a noise like kuplunk!
“Garumpf!” she cried, choking on a mouthful of berries, “This is not my child! Where is little Bear?” She took one good look and backed away. (She was old enough to be shy of people, even a very small person like Little Sal. ) Then she turned around and walked off very fast to hunt for Little Bear.
Little Sal’s mother heard Little Bear tramping along behind and thought it was Little Sal. She kept right on picking and thinking about canning blueberries for next winter.
Little Bear padded up and peeked into her pail, Of course, he only wanted to taste a few of what was inside, but there were so many and they were so close together, that he tasted a Tremendous Mouthful by mistake. “Now, Sal,” said Little Sal’s mother without turning around, “you run along and pick your own berries. Mother wants to can these for Next winter.” Little Bear tasted another Tremendous Mouthful, and almost spilled the entire pail of blueberries!
Little Sal’s mother turned around and gasped, “My Goodness, you aren’t Little Sal! Where, oh where, is my child?”
Little Bear just sat munching and munching and swallowing and licking his lips.
Little Sal’s mother slowly backed away. (She was old enough to be shy of bears, even small bears like Little Bear.) Then she turned and walked away quickly to look for Little Sal.
She hadn’t gone very far before she heard a kuplink! kuplank! kuplunk!
She knew just what made that kind of a noise!
Little bear’s mother had not hunted very long before she heard a hustling sound that stopped now and then to munch and swallow. She knew just what made that kind of a noise.
Little Bear and his mother went home down one side of Blueberry Hill, eating blueberries all the way, and full of food stored up for next winter.
And Little Sal and her mother went down the other side of Blueberry Hill, picking berries all the way, and drove home with food to can for next winter-a whole pail of blue berries and three more besides
-
This is little blue.
This is little blue.
Here he is at home with papa and mama blue. Little blue has many friends,
but his best friend is little yellow who lives across the street.
How they love to play at Hide-and–Seek, and Ring-a-Ring-O'Roses!
In school they sit still in neat rows. After school they run and jump.
One day mama blue went shopping. “You stay home” she said to little blue.
But little blue went out to look for little yellow.
Alas! The house across the street was empty. He looked here and there
and everywhere...until suddenly, around a corner there was little yellow!
Happily they hugged each other and hugged each other until they were green
Then they went to play in the park. They ran through a tunnel.
They chased little orange. They climbed a mountain.
When they were tired they went home.
But papa and mama blue said: “You are not our little blue-you are green.”
And papa and mama yellow said: “You are not our little yellow-you are green.”
Little blue and little yellow were very sad. They cried big blue and yellow tears.
They cried and cried until they were all tears.
When they finally pulled themselves together they said: “Will they believe us now?”
Mama blue and papa blue were very happy to see their little blue.
They hugged and kissed him.
And they hugged little yellow too...but look...they became green!
Now they knew what had happened
and so they went across the street to bring the good news.
They all hugged each other with joy and the children played until suppertime.
-
小豌豆Little Pea
小豌豆Little Pea
This is the story of Little Pea,
Mama Pea, and Papa Pea.
Little Pea was a happy little guy.
He liked to do a lot of things.
He liked rolling down hills,
for example, super fast.
He liked hanging out with his pea pals.
He liked it when Papa Pea came home at the end of the day.
Papa Pea would fling Little Pea off a spoon high into the air,
and Little Pea would scream, “Again! Again!”
At bedtime Little Pea very much liked snuggling with Mama Pea,
and hearing stories about what Mama Pea was like when she was a little pea.
But there was one thing that Little Pea did not like Candy.
That’s what you have to eat for dinner every night when you’re a pea.
Candy. Candy. Candy.Candy.
Monday: Red Candy.
Tuesday: Orange Candy.
Wednesday: Yellow candy.
Thursday: Purple and pink polka-dotted candy.
Friday: Striped candy.
Saturday: Swirly candy.
Sunday: Rainbow candy.
Little Pea hated all of it.
“If you want to grow up to be a big, strong pea, you have to eat your candy,”
Papa Pea would say.
“If you don’t finish your candy then you can’t have dessert,”
Mama Pea would say.
“How many pieces do I have to eat?”
“Eat five pieces and you can have dessert.”
“Five pieces?” he whined.
“Five pieces,” they chimed.
“One. Yuck.” “Two. Blech.”
“Three. Plck.” “Four. Pleh.”
“Five pieces of candy!
Now can I have dessert?”
“Yes.Now you can have dessert,”said Mama Pea and Papa Pea.
Little Pea couldn’t wait to see what it was.
“Spinach!” squealed Little Pea.“My favorite!”
Little Pea licked his dessert plate clean.
yum yum extra yum.
And they lived hap-pea-ly ever after.
-
Five Little Monkeys Wash the Car
The five little monkeys, and Mama, can never drive far in their rickety, rattletrap wreck of a car.
“I’ve had it!”says Mama. Let’s sell this old heap!” She makes a big sign that says, CAR FOR SALE-CHEAP!
Then Mama goes in. “There;s some work I should do.”
“Okay,” say the monkeys.
“We have work too!”
“This car is so icky!” “So sticky and slimy”
“How can we sell an old car that’s so grimy?”
“I know!” says one little monkey.
So two little monkeys spray with a hose, while three little monkeys scrub the car till it glows.
“But the car is still rusty!”“It stinks! Oh, pee-yew” “No one will buy it.” “What can we do?”
“I know!” says one little monkey.
Then four little monkeys find paint in the shed.
Blue, yellow, and green, purple, pink, and bright red.
They paint the old car with designs all around, while one little monkey sprays perfume he found.
Brown swampy lake!
“Well, now we’re in trouble!”
“We’re stuck in this goo!”
“We’ll never get out.”
“Oh, what can we do?”
“WE KNOW!” rumbles a voice from the swamp.
“The Crocodiles!”. Five little monkeys all shout. One crocodile says, “we’ll help you get out!”
“Poor crocs!” say the monkeys.
“How tired you are! You’ll never walk home! What you need is a…”
The five little monkeys and Mama go shop for a fancy new car- with a convertible top!
And the crocodiles?
They really like their old heap
It’s such a fine car for a long summer’s…
Sleep!
-
Mr Piggott 朱家故事
Mr Piggott lived with his two sons, Simon and Patrcik, in a nice house with a nice garden, and a nice car in the nice garage. Inside the house was his wife.
“Hurry up with the breakfast, dear,” he called every morning, before he went off to his very important job.
“Hurry up with the breakfast, Mum,” Simon and Patrick called before they went off to their very important school.
After they left the house, Mrs Piggott washed all the breakfast things..
Vacuumed all the carpets…
Made all the beds…
And then she went to work.
“Hurry up with the meal, Mum,” the boys called every evening when they came home from their very important school.
As soon as they had eaten, Mrs Piggott washed the dishes…
Washed the clothes…
Did the ironing.. and then she cooked some more.
One evening when the boys got home from school there was no-one to greet them.
“where’s Mum?” demanded Mr Piggott when he got home from work.
She was nowhere to be found. On the mantelpiece was an envelope. Mr Piggot opened it . inside was a piced of paper.
You are pigs.
“But what shall we do?” said Mr Piggott.
They had to make their own meal. It took hours. And it was horrible. Next morning they had to make their own breakfast. It took hours. And it was horrible.
The next day and the next night and the day after that, Mrs Piggott was still not there. Mr. Piggott, Simon and Patrick tried to look after themselves. They never washed the dishes. They never washed their clothes. Soon the house was like a pigsty.
“When is Mum coming home?” the boys squealed after another horrible meal. ”How should I know?” Mr Piggott grunted. They all became more and more grumpy.
One night there was nothing in the house for them to cook. “we’ll just have to root around and find some scraps,”snorted Mr Piggott.
And just then Mrs Piggott walked in.
“Please come back,” they snuffled.
So Mrs Piggott stayed.
Mr Piggott washed the dishes.
Patrick and Simon made the beds.
Mr Piggott did the ironing.
And they all helped with the cooking.
They actually enjoyed it!
Mum was happy too…
She mended the car.
Melanie Zeng 录入
-
Click Clack Moo Cows That Type
Farmer Brown has a problem.
His cows like to type.
All day long he hears
Click, clack, moo.
Click, clack, moo.
Clickety, clack, moo.
At first, he couldn't believe his ears.
Cows that type?
IMpossible!
Click, clack, moo.
Click, clack, moo.
Clickety, clack, moo.
Then, he couldn't believe his eyes.
Dear Farmer Brown,
The barn is very cold at night.
We'd like some electric blankets.
Sincerely
The Cows
It was bad enough the cows had found the old typewriter in the barn, now they wanted electric blankets!" No way," said Farmer Brown, " No electric blankets."
So the cows went on strike. They left a note on the barn door.
Sorry.
We're closed.
No milk
today.
"No milk today!" cried Farmer Brown. In the background, he heard the cows busy at work:
Click, clack, moo.
Click, clack, moo.
Clickety, clack, moo.
The next day, he got another note:
Dear Farmer Broen,
The hens are cold too.
They'd like electric
blankets.
Sincerely,
The cows
The cows were groeing impatient with the farmer. They left a new note on the barn door.
Closed.
No milk.
No eggs.
"No eggs!" cried Farmer Brown. In the background he heard them.
Click, clack, moo.
Click, clack, moo.
Clickety, clack, moo.
"Cows that type. Hens on strike! Whoever heard a such a thing? How can I run a farm with no milk and no eggs!" Farmer Brown was furious.
Farmer Brown got out his own typewriter.
Dear Cows and Hens:
There will be no eletric blankets.
You are cows and hens.
I demand milk and eggs.
Sincerely,
Farmer Brown
Duck was a neutral party, so he brought the ultimatum to the cows.
The cows held an emergency meeting. All the animals gathered around the barn to snoop, but none of them could understand Moo.
All night long, Farmer Brown waited for an answer.
Duck knocked on the door early the next morning. He handed Farmer Brown a note:
Dear Farmer Brown,
We will exchange typewriter for electric blankets.
Leave them outside the barn door and we will send Duck over
with the typewriter.
Sincerely,
The cows
Farmer Brown decided this was a god deal. He left the blankets next to the barn door and waited for Duck to come with the typewriter.
The next morning he got a note:
Dear Farmer Brown,
The pond is quite boring.
We'd like a diving board.
Sincerely,
The Ducks
Click, clack, quack.
Click, clack, quack.
Clickety, clack, quack.
-
Make Way for Duckling 让路给小鸭子
Mr. And Mrs. Mallard were looking for a place to live. But every time Mr.Mallard saw what looked like a nice place, Mrs. Mallard said it was no good. There were sure to be foxes in the woods or turtles in the water, and she was not going to raise a family where might be foxes or turtles. So they flew on and on.
麦乐先生与夫人在寻找一个适合他们居住的地方，可是每次麦乐先生说它看见一个好地方时，麦乐夫人不同意，那里的丛林里一定有狐狸，或者水里一定有乌龟，它是不会在有狐狸和乌龟的地方安家落户的。所以继续往前飞。
When they got to Bostom, they felt too tired to fly any further.There was a nice pond in the Public Garden, with a little island on it. “The very place to spend the night”,quacked Mr. Mallard. So down they flapped.
当他们来到波斯顿的时候，因为疲劳而不想飞了。在公园里有一个的池塘，中间还有一个小岛“这是一个过夜的好地方。”麦乐先生呱呱叫道。于是他们飞落下来。
Next morning they fished for their breakfast in the mud at the bottom of the pond. But they didn’t find much.
第二天，他们就在池塘的底部泥坑里寻找吃的，可他们并没有找到多少。
Just as they were getting ready to start on their way, a strange enormous bird came by. It was pushing a boat full of people, and there was a man sitting on its back. “Good morning,”quacked Mr.Mallard, being polite. The big bird was too pround to answer. But the people on the boat threw peanuts into the water, so the Mallards followed them all round the pond and got another breakfast, better han the first.
正当他们准备离开的时候，一个巨大的、奇怪的鸟过来了，它正推着一艘载满人的船，还有一个人坐在它的背上。“早上好。”麦乐先生表现出一副很有礼貌的样子。大鸟骄傲得理都不理，但是船里的人们向水里扔花生，于是麦乐他们就跟着围湖绕了一周，得到了比第一次更好的早餐。
“I like this place,” said Mrs. Mallard as they climbed out on the bank and waddled along. “Why don’t we build a nest and raise our ducklings right in this pond? There are no foxes and no turtles, and the people feed us peanuts. What could be better?”
“Good,” said Mr. Mallard, delighted that last Mrs. Mallard had found a place that suited her. But
“我很喜欢这个地方,”麦乐夫人边说，他们俩边走到岸上。“为什么我们不在这个池塘里搭窝，生儿育女呢？这里没有狐狸也没有乌龟，人们还喂我们花生，有什么比这个更妙？”“好，”
麦乐先生说道，很高兴因为麦乐先生夫人终于找到一个令它满意的地方，可是-
“Look out!” squawked Mrs. Mallard, all of a dither. “ You’ll get run over!” And when she got her breath she added: “This is no place for babies, with all those horrid things rushing about. We’ll have to look somewhere else.”
“看着点！”麦乐夫人惊叫道，“你超速行驶！”当它喘过一口气来又说：“这不是孩子们呆的地方，有哪些及极讨厌的东西冲来冲去，我们得找其他地方。”
So they flew over Beacon Hill and round the State House, but there was no place there.
所以它们飞过培根山庄，还在住宅区周围转了一周，可那里没有地方。
They looked in Louisburg Squere, but there was no water to swim in.
它们看了看路恩伯格广场，可是那里没有地方游泳。
Then they flew over the Charles River. “This is better,”quacked Mr. Mallard. “That island looks like a nice quiet place, and it’s only a little way from the Public Garden,”“Yes,”said Mrs. Mallard, remembering the peanuts. “That looks like just the right place to hatch ducklings.”
它们又飞过查尔斯河，“这里好多了。”麦乐先生叫道，“那个小岛看起来一个安静的好地方，而且离中心公园也不远。”“嗯，对。”麦乐夫人同时想起来了花生，“那里看起来是孵蛋的好地方呀。”
So they chose a cozy spot amony the bushes near the water and settled down to build their nest. And only just in time, for now they were beginning to molt. All their old wing feathers started to drop out, and they would not be able to fly again until the new ones grew in.
他们选择了一个在灌木丛旁舒适的位置，定下来搭窝，就在这时，它们开始换羽了，它们那些旧羽毛开始掉落，直到新的长出来它们才能飞。
But of course they could swim, and one day they swam over to the park on the river bank, and there they met a policaman called Michael. Michael fed them peanuts, and after that the Mallards called Michael every day.
但是当然它们可以游泳，有一天，他们游到公园对面，来到河岸上，在那里，它们遇到了一个警察叫迈克尔，迈克尔喂它们花生，从那以后，麦乐每天都来找迈克尔。
Afer Mrs. Mallard had laid eight egges in the nest she couldn’t go to visit Michael any more, because she had to sit on the eggs to keep them warm. She moved off the nest only to get a drink of water, or to have her lunch, or to count the eggs and make sure they were all there.
麦乐夫人下完8个蛋以后，她不能再去拜访迈克尔。因为她必须卧在蛋上让它们保持暖和，她只有在喝水、吃饭或者数一数蛋时才下来。
One day the ducklings hatched out. First came jack, then kack, and then Lack, then Mack and Nack and Quack and Pack and Quack.. Mr. And Mrs. Mallard were bursting with pride. It was a great respondsiblity taking care of mso many ducklings, and it kept them very busy.
有一天小鸭子们出生了，第一个是Jack,然后是Kack,Lack, Mack和Pack,最后是Ouack.麦乐先生和夫人都感到自豪极了,这是一个多么大的责任照顾这么多的小鸭子，使它们非常忙碌。
没有更多了
I like books. funny books
and scary books. Fairy tales.
and nursery rhymes comic books
and coloring books. Fat books.
and thin books. books about dinosaurs,
and books about monsters. Counting books….
and alphabet books. books about space,
and books about pirates. song books.
And strange books. Yes, I really do like books.