BROOKS'S READERS

THIRD YEAR

BY

STRATTON D. BROOKS

SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

Copyright, 1906, by
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY.
Copyright, 1907, Tokyo.

BROOKS'S READERS. THIRD YEAR.

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The selections from the writings of Henry W. Longfellow, Thomas Bailey Aldrich, John G. Whittier, Frank Dempster Sherman, Olive Thorne Miller, Dora Read Goodale, Lucy Larcom, Alice and Phœbe Cary, are used by permission of and by special arrangements with Houghton, Mifflin & Co., the authorized publishers of the writings of these authors.

Special arrangements have also been made with the following publishers for permission to use selections from their publications: Little, Brown & Co. for a stanza from Emily Dickinson's poems; The Macmillan Company for "Clovers," copyright, 1902; Charles Scribner's Sons for "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod," by Eugene Field, and for a stanza from "Rhymes and Jingles," by Mary Mapes Dodge.

Acknowledgments are also due to Silver, Burdett & Company for "Flowers that tell Time" and "Maple Leaves," from The Plant Baby and its Friends, by Kate Louise Brown, copyright, 1897, and also for a selection from Stories of Starland; to the Century Company for "How Birds learn to Sing," by Mary Mapes Dodge, from When Life is Young; to F. A. Stokes Company for a selection from The Snow Baby, by Josephine D. Peary, copyright, 1901; to the Biglow & Main Company for "The Easter Song," from Little Pilgrim Songs; to A. Flanagan Company for "The First Thanksgiving," from The Plan Book; to James Baldwin for "Abraham Lincoln," from Four Great Americans; to Alice C. D. Riley and to Lydia A. C. Ward for selections from their writings.

Acknowledgments are due to Miss Frances Lilian Taylor of Galesburg, Illinois, and to Mr. W. J. Button of Chicago for valuable assistance rendered in choosing the selections comprised in this volume.

THE MAGIC WINDOWS

I

Did you ever hear of the Magic Windows? Those who look through them behold many strange and beautiful sights. If you will but make them your own, you may enter the fairyland of wonder and see all its rich treasures.

You ask me how you can do this? I will answer by telling you a story.

There was once a happy boy who played through the long summer days. And where he played the meadows were green, and the sky was blue, and the sunshine was bright.

On every side the flowers nodded like smiling playmates. Birds chirped to him from the bushes. The rabbits gave him a friendly look as they went leaping by. The squirrels watched him with bright eyes as they ran up and down the trees.

A little brook flowed through the meadows. On its sandy bed the happy boy found bright pebbles. His toy ships sailed proudly upon its waves or rested in the quiet harbors along its banks. Tiny fishes darted from their hiding places to eat the crumbs which he threw into the water.

"I wonder where the brook goes," said the happy boy. "I should like to follow it and see. How I wish the school bell would never call me from my play! I would rather sail my boat than learn to read, and I like the rabbits and squirrels better than my books."

II.

The little brook heard the boy's words as it went flowing by. On its way to the great river it ran through a forest where fairyland was hidden. There it told the fairies of the happy boy and of his wishes.

By and by the sun went down and playtime ended. Night came, and the Shut-eye train carried the boy far away to the Land of Slumber.

He could see the mole digging long halls under ground. He could watch the spider as it spun the silk for its curious house.

Rabbits were hiding their young in the long grass, and little foxes were playing by their rocky dens.

He could even see the bear's cubs curled up like balls in the hollow trunks of trees.

III.

"Look to the north," said the fairy.

Children dressed in fur crept out of snow houses. They went dashing over the snow in sleds drawn by dogs.

Again the happy boy looked, and the wonder lands of the south lay before him. Gay flowers blossomed everywhere. Bright-colored birds found a safe home in the great forest.

Once more the happy boy looked through the Magic Windows, and oh, how wonderful! He could see into fairy land where animals talk, and where the playthings are alive.

"Oh, kind fairy, let me stay here," said the happy boy. "I can not leave this land of wonders."

"Would you like to have the Magic Windows for your own?" asked the fairy. "Then listen well. When the school bell rings, it will call you to the land of books. Through the Magic Windows of your books you may see greater wonders than fairies can tell or fairy land can show."

Another day came with the rising sun. Once more the school bell rang. Gladly the happy boy left his play, for in his books he would find the Magic Windows.

THE LAND OF STORY BOOKS

A WONDERFUL BALL

I have heard of a wonderful ball which floats in the sweet blue air, and has soft white clouds about it as it floats along.

There are many charming stories to be told about this wonderful ball. Some of them you shall hear.

It is so large that many houses are built upon it. Men and women live upon it, and little children can play upon its surface.

In some places it is soft and green, like the long meadows between the hills. In other parts there are trees for miles and miles on every side. All kinds of wild animals live in the great forests that grow on this wonderful ball.

Then again in some places it is steep and rough. And there are mountains so high that the snow lies upon their tops all the year around.

In other parts there are no hills at all, but level land, and quiet little ponds of blue water. There the white water lilies grow and fishes play among the lily stems.

Now, if we look on another side of the ball, we shall see no ponds, but something very dreary. A great plain of sand stretches away on every side. There are no trees, and the sunshine beats down upon the burning sand.

We look again, and we see a great body of water. Many islands are in the sea, and great ships sail upon it.

Look at one more side of this ball as it turns around. Jack Frost must have spent all his longest winter nights here. For see what a palace of ice he has built for himself.

How cold it looks! See the clear, blue ice, almost as blue as the sky. And look at the snow, drifts upon drifts, and the feathery flakes filling the air.

Now, what do you think of this ball, so white and cold, so warm and green, so dreary and rough, as it floats along in the sweet blue air, with the flocks of white clouds about it?

I will tell you one thing more. The wise men have said that this earth on which we live is just such a ball. We shall know more about this when we are older and wiser.

THE GREAT, WIDE WORLD

FLOWERS THAT TELL TIME

As the dandelion grew older, his yellow curls turned white. Then the children would blow—one, two, three times. If all the hairs blew away, it was a sign that mother wanted them at once.

If there were ten hairs left, the children said, "Mother wants us at ten o'clock." If but two hairs remained, they said, "Mother will look for us at two o'clock."

DANDELION

THE FARMER'S WHEAT FIELD