: Fairy Tales for Workers' Children by Zur M Hlen Hermynia Gibson Lydia Illustrator Dailes Ida Translator - Fairy tales Germany; Communism Juvenile fiction

@FreeBooks

Posted in: #FreeBooks #FreeBooksIndia #FreeBooksApp #gg

Vote Up Vote Down   0 Reactions

Login to give Reaction!

Rose-bush gazed at the gleaming white house in which lived people who had everything they wanted and then looked at the street where others passed by with thin, pale faces that were tired and sad, and this brought new strength to her heart.

She became constantly more sick and more weak; her arms hung down feebly, her blossoms dropped their petals, her leaves became wrinkled and yellow. The man who tended her watched her sadly and asked. "What is wrong, my poor Rose-bush?" and he tried every remedy he knew of to help her. But all in vain. One morning, instead of a handsome, blooming Rose-bush, he found a miserable, withered, dead bush.

That could not remain there, the withered branches and flowers spoiled the handsome garden. The gracious lady commanded that the Rose-bush be thrown out. As the man dug her up, the Rose-bush gathered her remaining strength and whispered beseechingly, "Take me home! Please, please take me home!"

The man fulfilled her wish. He planted the Rose-bush in a flower pot and took her to the poor, small room where he lived. His sick wife sat up in bed and said, "Ah, the poor Rose-bush, she is as sick as I am, but you will nurse us both back to health."

The withered leaves and twigs moaned, "Water! Water!" And the man understood them and brought in a jar of water. The Rose-bush drank. Oh! what delight this was! Eagerly her roots sucked up the water, the delicious moisture passing through all her branches gave her new life. The next morning she could lift up her branches; the sick woman was as happy as a child and cried, "She will get well!"

And the Rose-bush really got well. In a short while she again became so beautiful that the poor little room was as fragrant as a garden. The pale cheeks of the woman became rosier every day, her strength was returning. "The Rose-bush has made me well," said she, and all the flowers on the Rose-bush glowed deep red with joy when she heard these words.

The man and his wife were kind people, they gladly shared the little they had, and carefully broke off some roses to bring joy to tired people in other lonely rooms.

The roses had other magic powers; the Rose-bush, in her days of struggle and suffering, had learned the songs of the Wind. Now her flowers sang them very softly for their friends, "Keep together! Fight! You will conquer!" Then the people said, "How strange! The perfume of the flowers brings us new strength. We will fight together for a better world."

But to the little children the roses sang in a tender, loving voice: "Little children, when you are grown up, you will no longer stand sadly before the gate. The whole world will belong to those who work, the whole world!"

THE SPARROW

Quarrel and disagreement ruled in the Sparrow family. Mother Sparrow squatted unhappily in her nest all day and Father Sparrow swore and grumbled and found fault with everything. The family that had once been so gay and happy was completely changed. And for all this misery the youngest Sparrow was to blame. One evening at supper he had declared, briefly and boldly, "I'm not going to school any more. I've had enough of being insulted by those aristocrats. Above all, I'm tired of all this life. I want to go out into the world." He stuck up his bill and looked at his parents defiantly.

Mother Sparrow was so shocked that all her feathers stood up. She started helplessly at her naughty son, and all she could do was to say weakly, "Peep, peep."

Free books android app tbrJar TBR JAR Read Free books online gutenberg

(0)

Login to post a comment!