Rand-McNally Primary Grammar and Composition: Principles and Definitions by Induction

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Rand, McNally & Company, 1897 - 207 Seiten

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Seite 98 - WHERE GO THE BOATS? DARK brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along forever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating — Where will all come home? On goes the river And out past the mill, Away down the valley, Away down the hill. Away down the river, A hundred miles or more, Other little children Shall bring my boats ashore.
Seite 192 - And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats. At last the people in a body To the Town Hall came flocking: ;"Tis clear...
Seite 65 - You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot: You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!
Seite 136 - He went to the windows of those who slept, And over each pane like a fairy crept; Wherever he breathed, wherever he...
Seite 98 - Where Go the Boats? Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating Where will all come home? On goes the river And out past the mill, Away down the valley, Away down the hill. Away down the river, A hundred miles or more, Other little children Shall bring my...
Seite 27 - Now, imagine yourselves, my children, in Master Ezekiel Cheever's school-room. It is a large, dingy room, with a sanded floor, and is lighted by windows that turn on hinges and have little diamond-shaped panes of glass. The scholars sit on long benches, with desks before them. At one end of the room is a great fireplace, so very spacious that there is room enough for three or four boys to stand in each of the chimney corners.
Seite 89 - At evening when I go to bed I see the stars shine overhead; They are the little daisies white That dot the meadow of the Night.
Seite 35 - UP from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Seite 61 - Within his sober realm of leafless trees The russet year inhaled the dreamy air ; Like some tanned reaper in his hour of ease, When all the fields are lying brown and bare. The gray barns looking from their hazy hills O'er the dim waters widening in the vales, Sent down the air a greeting to the mills, On the dull thunder of alternate flails.
Seite 73 - They climb up into my turret, O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me: They seem to be everywhere.

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