Graded Literature Readers: Fourth Book

10. "Now, don't make any more excuses, but listen. Number two: You pulled Snowdrop away by the tail just as I had put down the saucer of milk before her! What! you were thirsty, were you? How do you know she wasn't thirsty, too? Now for number three: You unwound every bit of the worsted while I wasn't looking.

11. "That's three faults, Kitty, and you've not been punished for any of them yet. You know I am saving up all your punishments for Wednesday week. Suppose they had saved up all my punishments," she went on, talking more to herself than to the kitten, "what would they do at the end of a year? I should be sent to prison, I suppose, when the day came.

12. "Or – let me see – suppose each punishment was to be going without a dinner? Then, when the miserable day came, I should have to go without fifty dinners at once. Well, I shouldn't mind that much. I'd far rather go without them than eat them.

13. "Do you hear the snow against the window panes, Kitty? How nice and soft it sounds! Just as if some one was kissing the window all over outside. I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, 'Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.'

14. "And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty, they dress themselves all in green and dance about whenever the wind blows – oh, that's very pretty!" cried Alice, dropping the ball of worsted to clap her hands: "And I do so wish it were true."

Rē̍ prōach´fụl ly̆: chidingly. Dē̍ mūre´ly̆: soberly. Mĭs´chiē̍ voŭs: doing harm in play.

Round, square, broad, yellow, silver, sweet, gold, narrow, sour, brown, crooked, stony.

Place together the words which show (1) form; (2) taste; (3) color; (4) material.

Use each of the words in a sentence telling something which always has the quality named: as, a ball is round.

The Kitten and the Falling Leaves

By William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): An English poet. He found poetry in the simplest scenes and incidents of everyday life, and helped others to see the beauty of nature, to reverence God, and to sympathize with even the lowliest of their fellowmen. "Intimations of Immortality," "Laodamia," "The Excursion," and "The Prelude" are among the best of his longer poems.

That way look, my infant, lo!
What a pretty baby show!
See the kitten on the wall,
Sporting with the leaves that fall,
Withered leaves – one, two, and three —
From the lofty elder tree!
Through the calm and frosty air
Of this morning bright and fair,
Eddying round and round they sink
Softly, slowly: one might think,
From the motions that are made,
Every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or fairy hither tending,
To this lower world descending,
Each invisible and mute,
In his wavering parachute.
But the kitten, how she starts,
Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!
First at one, and then its fellow,
Just as light and just as yellow;
There are many now – now one —
Now they stop and there are none:
What intenseness of desire
In her upward eye of fire!
With a tiger-leap, half-way
Now she meets the coming prey,
Lets it go as fast, and then
Has it in her power again:
Now she works with three or four,
Like an Indian conjurer;
Quick as he in feats of art,
Far beyond in joy of heart.

Ĕd´dy̆ ĭng: moving in a circle. Cŏn ve̱yed´: carried. Sylph: a fairy. Păr´ȧ çhṳte: a sort of umbrella by means of which descent is made from a balloon. Cȯn´jŭr ẽr: magician. Fēats: tricks.

The Snow-Image

By Nathaniel Hawthorne

Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864): An American novelist. His best works are "The Scarlet Letter," "The House of the Seven Gables," and "The Marble Faun." Hawthorne wrote also several delightful books for children; among these are "Grandfather's Chair," a collection of stories from New England history, "Biographical Stories," "The Wonder Book," and "Tanglewood Tales" – the two latter being volumes of stories from Greek mythology.

I

1. One afternoon of a cold winter's day, when the sun shone forth with chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of their mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow.

2. The elder child was a little girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modest disposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her parents and other people, who were familiar with her, used to call Violet.

3. But her brother was known by the title of Peony, on account of the ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everybody think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers.

"Yes, Violet – yes, my little Peony," said their kind mother; "you may go out and play in the new snow."

4. Forth sallied the two children, with a hop-skip-and-jump that carried them at once into the very heart of a huge snowdrift, whence Violet emerged like a snow bunting, while little Peony floundered out with his round face in full bloom.

5. Then what a merry time had they! To look at them frolicking in the wintry garden, you would have thought that the dark and pitiless storm had been sent for no other purpose but to provide a new plaything for Violet and Peony; and that they themselves had been created, as the snowbirds were, to take delight only in the tempest and in the white mantle which it spread over the earth.

6. At last, when they had frosted one another all over with handfuls of snow, Violet, after laughing heartily at little Peony's figure, was struck with a new idea.

"You look exactly like a snow-image, Peony," said she, "if your cheeks were not so red. And that puts me in mind! Let us make an image out of snow – an image of a little girl – and it shall be our sister and shall run about and play with us all winter long. Won't it be nice?"

7. "Oh, yes!" cried Peony, as plainly as he could speak, for he was but a little boy. "That will be nice! And mamma shall see it!"

"Yes," answered Violet; "mamma shall see the new little girl. But she must not make her come into the warm parlor, for, you know, our little snow-sister will not love the warmth."

8. And forthwith the children began this great business of making a snow-image that should run about; while their mother, who was sitting at the window and overheard some of their talk, could not help smiling at the gravity with which they set about it. They really seemed to imagine that there would be no difficulty whatever in creating a live little girl out of the snow.

9. Indeed, it was an exceedingly pleasant sight – those bright little souls at their tasks! Moreover, it was really wonderful to observe how knowingly and skillfully they managed the matter. Violet assumed the chief direction and told Peony what to do, while, with her own delicate fingers, she shaped out all the nicer parts of the snow-figure.

10. It seemed, in fact, not so much to be made by the children, as to grow up under their hands, while they were playing and prattling about it. Their mother was quite surprised at this; and the longer she looked, the more and more surprised she grew.

II

11. Now, for a few moments, there was a busy and earnest but indistinct hum of the two children's voices, as Violet and Peony wrought together with one happy consent. Violet still seemed to be the guiding spirit; while Peony acted rather as a laborer and brought her the snow from far and near. And yet the little urchin evidently had a proper understanding of the matter.

12. "Peony, Peony!" cried Violet; for her brother was at the other side of the garden. "Bring me those light wreaths of snow that have rested on the lower branches of the pear tree. You can clamber on the snowdrift, Peony, and reach them easily. I must have them to make some ringlets for our snow-sister's head!"

13. "Here they are, Violet!" answered the little boy. "Take care you do not break them. Well done! Well done! How pretty!"