The Blanket, it's a story that has been told in many places throughout centuries. In some countries there are some diffrences in the story, read and answer the questions.
A tramp knocked at the farmhouse door. "I can't let you in, for my husband is not at home," said the woman of the house. "And I haven't a thing to offer you," she added. Her voice showed unmasked scorn for the man she held to be a beggar.
It was at a banquet in London in honor of one of the two or three conspicuously illustrious English military names of this generation. For reasons which will presently appear, I will withhold his real name and titles, and call him Lieutenant General Lord Arthur Scoresby, V.C., K.C.B., etc., etc., etc.
"She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses," cried the young student; "but in all my garden there is no red rose." From her nest in the "No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for want of
"My aunt will be down Framton Nuttel "I know how it will be," his sister had said when he was preparing to Framton wondered whether Mrs. Sappleton, the lady to whom he was presenting one of the letters of introduction came into the nice "Do you know many of the people round here?" asked the niece, when she judged that they had had "Hardly a soul," said Framton. "My sister was staying here, at the
Native Indian Folk Tales (Yaqui Tribe) A long time ago, One day he thought of something. He began to "Well," the owl answered him, "Worry no more about your coat of feathers. I will lend you some, and I shall ask also that the other birds lend you one feather That is how the Owl sent a messenger all around to the birds, asking them to please come to a seeing him, everyone felt very sorry for him.
by Ian S. Thompson They had been walking along Oxford Street. Now they stopped, Greg's hand on her arm. he said. Helen nodded, but there were tears in her eyes as she looked through the shop-window. The new hat had been his idea, not hers. He pointed. Her lips She carefully avoided meeting his eyes, because there was so much in her own eyes that he must never see. They went into the shop. A Helen
In Well, in ancient times, on the pathway leading around to Fat Mountain, there was one of these Beetles running about in all directions in the sunshine, when a Coyote came said he, The Beetle immediately replied the Coyote. cried the Beetle, with his head still to the ground. So the Coyote exclaimed the Coyote. exclaimed the Beetle,with a shake of his head. cried the Coyote. The Beetle, in pure
About Fifteen miles below Monterey, on the wild coast, the Torres family had their farm, a few Mama Torres, a lean, dry woman with ancient eyes had ruled the farm for ten years, ever since her husband Mama Torres had three children, two undersized black ones of twelve and fourteen, Emilio and Rosy, whom Mama kept fishing on the rocks below the farm when sea was kind ans when the Pepé smiled sheepl
Here is a lovely story written by Yaşar Kemal. It is about a little boy who wants to have white trousers so much. Will he be able to wear the white trousers at the end? Let's read and see... It was hot. Mustafa held the old shoe. He thought he would never be able to repair it. He looked at the The cobbler was silent. Mustafa was trying to repair the shoe again when Hasan Bey, a he said. asked the
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