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Read Ebook: Third Reader: The Alexandra Readers by Dearness John McIntyre W A William Albert Saul John C John Cameron
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Ebook has 1728 lines and 96215 words, and 35 pages
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THIRD READER
CANADA! MAPLE LAND!
Canada! Maple land! Land of great mountains! Lake-land and River-land! Land 'twixt the seas! Grant us, God, hearts that are large as our heritage, Spirits as free as the breeze!
Grant us Thy fear that we walk in humility-- Fear that is reverent--not fear that is base; Grant to us righteousness, wisdom, prosperity, Peace--if unstained by disgrace.
Grant us Thy love and the love of our country; Grant us Thy strength, for our strength's in Thy name; Shield us from danger, from every adversity, Shield us, O Father, from shame!
Last born of Nations! the offspring of freedom! Heir to wide prairies, thick forests, red gold! God grant us wisdom to value our birthright, Courage to guard what we hold!
THE SHOEMAKER AND THE ELVES
There was once an honest shoemaker who worked very hard at his trade; yet through no fault of his own he grew poorer and poorer. At last he had only just enough leather left to make one pair of shoes. In the evening he cut out the leather so as to be ready to make the shoes the next day.
He rose early in the morning, and went to his bench. But what did he see? There stood the pair of shoes, already made. The poor man could hardly believe his eyes, and he did not know what to think. He took the shoes in his hand to look at them closely. Every stitch was in its right place. A finer piece of work was never seen.
Very soon a customer came, and the shoes pleased him so well that he willingly paid a higher price than usual for them. The shoemaker now had enough money to buy leather for two pairs of shoes. In the evening he cut them out with great care, and went to bed early so that he might be up in good time the next day. But he was saved all trouble; for when he rose in the morning, two pairs of well-made shoes stood in a row upon his bench.
Presently in came customers, who paid him a high price for the shoes, and with the money that he received, he bought enough leather to make four pairs of shoes. Again he cut the work out overnight and again he found it finished in the morning. The shoemaker's good fortune continued. All the shoes he cut out in the day were finished at night. The good man rose early, and he was busy every moment of the day. Every pair found ready sale. "Never did shoes wear so long," said the buyers.
One evening, about Christmas time, the shoemaker said to his wife, "Let us watch to-night and see who it is that does this work for us." So they left a light burning and hid themselves behind a curtain which hung in the corner of the room. As soon as it was midnight there came two little dwarfs. They sat down upon the shoemaker's bench, and began to work with their tiny fingers, stitching and rapping and tapping away. Never had the good shoemaker and his wife seen such rapid work. The elves did not stop till the task was quite finished, and the shoes stood ready for use upon the table. This was long before daybreak, and then they bustled away as quick as lightning.
The next day the shoemaker's wife said to her husband: "These little folks have made us rich, and we ought to be thankful to them and do them a service in return. They must be cold, for they have nothing on their backs to keep them warm. I shall make each of them a suit of clothes, and you shall make some shoes for them."
This the shoemaker was very glad to do. When the little suits and the new shoes were finished, they were laid on the bench instead of the usual work. Again the good people hid themselves in the corner of the room to watch. About midnight the elves appeared. When they found the neat little garments waiting for them, they showed the greatest delight. They dressed in a moment, and jumped and capered and sprang about until they danced out of the door and over the green.
Never were they seen again, but everything went well with the shoemaker and his wife from that time forward as long as they lived.--JACOB GRIMM.
I am only one; But still I am one. I cannot do everything; But still I can do something. And because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.
SONG OF THE GOLDEN SEA
Sing, ye ripening fields of wheat, Sing to the breezes passing by, Sing your jubilant song and sweet, Sing to the earth, the air, the sky!
Earth that held thee and skies that kissed Morning and noon and night for long, Sun and rain and dew and mist, All that has made you glad and strong!
The harvest fields of the far, far west Stretch out a shimmering sea of gold! Every ripple upon its breast Sings peace, and plenty and wealth untold!
Far as the eye can reach it goes, Farther yet, 'till there seems no end, Under a sky where blue and rose With the gold and turquoise softly blend.
Here, where sweep the prairies lone, Broad and beautiful in God's eyes, Here in this young land, all our own, The garner-house of the old world lies.
--JEAN BLEWETT.
WORK
Sweet wind, fair wind, where have you been? "I've been sweeping the cobwebs out of the sky; I've been grinding a grist in the mill hard by; I've been laughing at work while others sigh; Let those laugh who win!"
Sweet rain, soft rain, what are you doing? "I'm urging the corn to fill out its cells; I'm helping the lily to fashion its bells; I'm swelling the torrent and brimming the wells; Is that worth pursuing?"
Honeybee, honeybee, where are you going? "To fill my basket with precious pelf; To toil for my neighbor as well as myself; To find out the sweetest flower that grows, Be it a thistle or be it a rose,-- A secret worth the knowing!"
--MARY N. PRESCOTT.
FORTUNE AND THE BEGGAR
One day a ragged beggar was creeping along from house to house. He carried an old wallet in his hand, and was asking at every door for a few cents to buy something to eat. As he was grumbling at his lot, he kept wondering why it was that people who had so much money were never satisfied, but were always wanting more.
"Here," said he, "is the master of this house--I know him well. He was always a good business man, and he made himself wondrously rich a long time ago. Had he been wise he would have stopped then. He would have turned over his business to some one else, and then he could have spent the rest of his life in ease. But what did he do instead? He began building ships and sending them to sea to trade with foreign lands. He thought he would get mountains of gold.
"But there were great storms on the water; his ships were wrecked, and his riches were swallowed up by the waves. Now his hopes all lie at the bottom of the sea, and his great wealth has vanished like the dreams of a night. There are many such cases. Men seem never to be satisfied unless they can gain the whole world. As for me, if I had only enough to eat and to wear I would not wish anything more."
Just at that moment Fortune came down the street. She saw the beggar and stopped. She said to him: "Listen! I have long desired to help you. Hold your wallet and I shall pour this gold into it. But I shall pour only on this condition: All that falls into the wallet shall be pure gold, but every piece that falls upon the ground shall become dust. Do you understand?"
"Oh, yes, I understand," said the beggar.
"Then have a care," said Fortune. "Your wallet is old; so do not load it too heavily."
The beggar was so glad that he could hardly wait. He quickly opened his wallet, and a stream of yellow dollars was poured into it. The wallet soon began to grow heavy.
"Is that enough?" asked Fortune.
"Not yet."
"Isn't it cracking?"
"Never fear."
The beggar's hands began to tremble. Ah, if the golden stream would only pour forever!
"You are the richest man in the world now!"
"Just a little more," said the beggar; "add just a handful or two."
"There, it's full. The wallet will burst."
"But it will hold a little more, just a little more!"
Another piece was added and the wallet split. The treasure fell upon the ground and was turned to dust. Fortune had vanished.
The beggar had now nothing but his empty wallet, and it was torn from top to bottom. He was as poor as before.
THE SPRITE
A little sprite sat on a moonbeam When the night was waning away, And over the world to the eastwards Had spread the first flush of the day. The moonbeam was cold and slippery, And a fat little fairy was he; Around him the white clouds were sleeping, And under him slumbered the sea.
Then the old moon looked out of her left eye, And laughed when she thought of the fun, For she knew that the moonbeam he sat on Would soon melt away in the sun; So she gave a slight shrug of her shoulder, And winked at a bright little star-- The moon was remarkably knowing, As old people always are.
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