citind subiectul lui ana_maria222 m-am gandit ca ar fi folositor si o poveste pe saptamana in eng. Daca cineva e intersat de propunere si doreste povesti in eng... o sa postez cate o poveste pe saptamana ca nu imi permite timpul mai mult (cand am timp mai mult o sa postez si mai multe povesti pe saptamana).
Deci astept.. daca sunt doritori atunci incep postarile...
Toate cele bune
INDEX: 01.A Dark Brown Dog - by Stepahn Crane 02.Bitsy’ s Big Day 03.Paper Route Puppy - by Catherine McCafferty 04.Bridget’s New Look - by Lisa Harkrader 05.Velveteen Rabbit - by Margery Williams (Adapted by Cynthia Benjamin and Megan Musgrave) 06.Tiny Train’s Big Job - by Conor Wolf (Adapted by Lisa Harkrader)[/
A child was standing on a street-corner. He leaned with one shoulder against a high board-fence and swayed the other to and fro, the while kicking carelessly at the gravel.
Sunshine beat upon the cobbles, and a lazy summer wind raised yellow dust which trailed in clouds down the avenue. Clattering trucks moved with indistinctness through it. The child stood dreamily gazing.
After a time, a little dark-brown dog came trotting with an intent air down the sidewalk. A short rope was dragging from his neck. Occasionally he trod upon the end of it and stumbled.
He stopped opposite the child, and the two regarded each other. The dog hesitated for a moment, but presently he made some little advances with his tail. The child put out his hand and called him. In an apologetic manner the dog came close, and the two had an interchange of friendly pattings and waggles. The dog became more enthusiastic with each moment of the interview, until with his gleeful caperings he threatened to overturn the child. Whereupon the child lifted his hand and struck the dog a blow upon the head.
This thing seemed to overpower and astonish the little dark-brown dog, and wounded him to the heart. He sank down in despair at the child's feet. When the blow was repeated, together with an admonition in childish sentences, he turned over upon his back, and held his paws in a peculiar manner. At the same time with his ears and his eyes he offered a small prayer to the child.
He looked so comical on his back, and holding his paws peculiarly, that the child was greatly amused and gave him little taps repeatedly, to keep him so. But the little dark-brown dog took this chastisement in the most serious way, and no doubt considered that he had committed some grave crime, for he wriggled contritely and showed his repentance in every way that was in his power. He pleaded with the child and petitioned him, and offered more prayers.
At last the child grew weary of this amusement and turned toward home. The dog was praying at the time. He lay on his back and turned his eyes upon the retreating form.
Presently he struggled to his feet and started after the child. The latter wandered in a perfunctory way toward his home, stopping at times to investigate various matters. During one of these pauses he discovered the little dark-brown dog who was following him with the air of a footpad.
The child beat his pursuer with a small stick he had found. The dog lay down and prayed until the child had finished, and resumed his journey. Then he scrambled erect and took up the pursuit again.
On the way to his home the child turned many times and beat the dog, proclaiming with childish gestures that he held him in contempt as an unimportant dog, with no value save for a moment. For being this quality of animal the dog apologized and eloquently expressed regret, but he continued stealthily to follow the child. His manner grew so very guilty that he slunk like an assassin.
When the child reached his door-step, the dog was industriously ambling a few yards in the rear. He became so agitated with shame when he again confronted the child that he forgot the dragging rope. He tripped upon it and fell forward.
The child sat down on the step and the two had another interview. During it the dog greatly exerted himself to please the child. He performed a few gambols with such abandon that the child suddenly saw him to be a valuable thing. He made a swift, avaricious charge and seized the rope.
He dragged his captive into a hall and up many long stairways in a dark tenement. The dog made willing efforts, but he could not hobble very skilfully up the stairs because he was very small and soft, and at last the pace of the engrossed child grew so energetic that the dog became panic-stricken. In his mind he was being dragged toward a grim unknown. His eyes grew wild with the terror of it. He began to wiggle his head frantically and to brace his legs.
The child redoubled his exertions. They had a battle on the stairs. The child was victorious because he was completely absorbed in his purpose, and because the dog was very small. He dragged his acquirement to the door of his home, and finally with triumph across the threshold.
No one was in. The child sat down on the floor and made overtures to the dog. These the dog instantly accepted. He beamed with affection upon his new friend. In a short time they were firm and abiding comrades.
When the child's family appeared, they made a great row. The dog was examined and commented upon and called names. Scorn was leveled at him from all eyes, so that he became much embarrassed and drooped like a scorched plant. But the child went sturdily to the center of the floor, and, at the top of his voice, championed the dog. It happened that he was roaring protestations, with his arms clasped about the dog's neck, when the father of the family came in from work.
The parent demanded to know what the blazes they were making the kid howl for. It was explained in many words that the infernal kid wanted to introduce a disreputable dog into the family.
A family council was held. On this depended the dog's fate, but he in no way heeded, being busily engaged in chewing the end of the child's dress.
The affair was quickly ended. The father of the family, it appears, was in a particularly savage temper that evening, and when he perceived that it would amaze and anger everybody if such a dog were allowed to remain, he decided that it should be so. The child, crying softly, took his friend off to a retired part of the room to hobnob with him, while the father quelled a fierce rebellion of his wife. So it came to pass that the dog was a member of the household.
He and the child were associated together at all times save when the child slept. The child became a guardian and a friend. If the large folk kicked the dog and threw things at him, the child made loud and violent objections. Once when the child had run, protesting loudly, with tears raining down his face and his arms outstretched, to protect his friend, he had been struck in the head with a very large saucepan from the hand of his father, enraged at some seeming lack of courtesy in the dog. Ever after, the family were careful how they threw things at the dog. Moreover, the latter grew very skilful in avoiding missiles and feet. In a small room containing a stove, a table, a bureau and some chairs, he would display strategic ability of a high order, dodging, feinting and scuttling about among the furniture. He could force three or four people armed with brooms, sticks and handfuls of coal, to use all their ingenuity to get in a blow. And even when they did, it was seldom that they could do him a serious injury or leave any imprint.
But when the child was present, these scenes did not occur. It came to be recognized that if the dog was molested, the child would burst into sobs, and as the child, when started, was very riotous and practically unquenchable, the dog had therein a safeguard.
However, the child could not always be near. At night, when he was asleep, his dark-brown friend would raise from some black corner a wild, wailful cry, a song of infinite lowliness and despair, that would go shuddering and sobbing among the buildings of the block and cause people to swear. At these times the singer would often be chased all over the kitchen and hit with a great variety of articles.
Sometimes, too, the child himself used to beat the dog, although it is not known that he ever had what could be truly called a just cause. The dog always accepted these thrashings with an air of admitted guilt. He was too much of a dog to try to look to be a martyr or to plot revenge. He received the blows with deep humility, and furthermore he forgave his friend the moment the child had finished, and was ready to caress the child's hand with his little red tongue.
When misfortune came upon the child, and his troubles overwhelmed him, he would often crawl under the table and lay his small distressed head on the dog's back. The dog was ever sympathetic. It is not to be supposed that at such times he took occasion to refer to the unjust beatings his friend, when provoked, had administered to him.
He did not achieve any notable degree of intimacy with the other members of the family. He had no confidence in them, and the fear that he would express at their casual approach often exasperated them exceedingly. They used to gain a certain satisfaction in underfeeding him, but finally his friend the child grew to watch the matter with some care, and when he forgot it, the dog was often successful in secret for himself.
So the dog prospered. He developed a large bark, which came wondrously from such a small rug of a dog. He ceased to howl persistently at night. Sometimes, indeed, in his sleep, he would utter little yells, as from pain, but that occurred, no doubt, when in his dreams he encountered huge flaming dogs who threatened him direfully.
His devotion to the child grew until it was a sublime thing. He wagged at his approach; he sank down in despair at his departure. He could detect the sound of the child's step among all the noises of the neighborhood. It was like a calling voice to him.
The scene of their companionship was a kingdom governed by this terrible potentate, the child; but neither criticism nor rebellion ever lived for an instant in the heart of the one subject. Down in the mystic, hidden fields of his little dog-soul bloomed flowers of love and fidelity and perfect faith.
The child was in the habit of going on many expeditions to observe strange things in the vicinity. On these occasions his friend usually jogged aimfully along behind. Perhaps, though, he went ahead. This necessitated his turning around every quarter-minute to make sure the child was coming. He was filled with a large idea of the importance of these journeys. He would carry himself with such an air! He was proud to be the retainer of so great a monarch.
One day, however, the father of the family got quite exceptionally drunk. He came home and held carnival with the cooking utensils, the furniture and his wife. He was in the midst of this recreation when the child, followed by the dark-brown dog, entered the room. They were returning from their voyages.
The child's practised eye instantly noted his father's state. He dived under the table, where experience had taught him was a rather safe place. The dog, lacking skill in such matters, was, of course, unaware of the true condition of affairs. He looked with interested eyes at his friend's sudden dive. He interpreted it to mean: Joyous gambol. He started to patter across the floor to join him. He was the picture of a little dark-brown dog en route to a friend.
The head of the family saw him at this moment. He gave a huge howl of joy, and knocked the dog down with a heavy coffee-pot. The dog, yelling in supreme astonishment and fear, writhed to his feet and ran for cover. The man kicked out with a ponderous foot. It caused the dog to swerve as if caught in a tide. A second blow of the coffee-pot laid him upon the floor.
Here the child, uttering loud cries, came valiantly forth like a knight. The father of the family paid no attention to these calls of the child, but advanced with glee upon the dog. Upon being knocked down twice in swift succession, the latter apparently gave up all hope of escape. He rolled over on his back and held his paws in a peculiar manner. At the same time with his eyes and his ears he offered up a small prayer.
But the father was in a mood for having fun, and it occurred to him that it would be a fine thing to throw the dog out of the window. So he reached down and grabbing the animal by a leg, lifted him, squirming, up. He swung him two or three times hilariously about his head, and then flung him with great accuracy through the window.
The soaring dog created a surprise in the block. A woman watering plants in an opposite window gave an involuntary shout and dropped a flower-pot. A man in another window leaned perilously out to watch the flight of the dog. A woman, who had been hanging out clothes in a yard, began to caper wildly. Her mouth was filled with clothes-pins, but her arms gave vent to a sort of exclamation. In appearance she was like a gagged prisoner. Children ran whooping.
The dark-brown body crashed in a heap on the roof of a shed five stories below. From thence it rolled to the pavement of an alleyway.
The child in the room far above burst into a long, dirgelike cry, and toddled hastily out of the room. It took him a long time to reach the alley, because his size compelled him to go downstairs backward, one step at a time, and holding with both hands to the step above.
When they came for him later, they found him seated by the body of his dark-brown friend.
Bitsy Spider hurried down the path. Her bag was full of Spider Deliveries, and she had to deliver them fast! The Crickets, her very favorite band, were in town today. Bitsy wanted to try out for the band. If they asked her to join, she could play music all the time! “Spider Delivery for Mr. Jeeter Bug!” Bitsy called at her first mailbox. “Hi, Bitsy!” said Jeeter. “Hooray! It’s two letters from the Green Glowworm Fan Club! I joined last week!” As Bitsy turned to go, Jeeter asked, “Do you have time for a game of Tick Gnat Toe? Do you, Bitsy? Huh? Do you?” Bitsy wanted to get through all her Spider Deliveries. But Jeeter looked so hopeful. “Anything for a friend,” she said, “Let’s make it quick!” They played a very fast and fun game. “Thanks!” said Jeeter as Bitsy left. Bitsy would have to deliver faster to make up for that game stop. Sje hurried along when she heard a horn honking. “Morning, Bitsy,” said Buzz Bee. “Good morning,” she replied. “You wouldn’t have any oil, would you? Lady Bug’s car broke down. She wants me to fix it before the Garden Bug meeting is over. And I can’t not leave the car to go back to the garage.” Bitsy was in a big hurry. “But one more stop won’t hurt,” she thought. “Anything for a friend,” she said. Bitsy brought back the oil and poured it into Lady Bug’s engine. “You are a friend indeed,” said Buzz. He honked the car horn in salute as Bitsy waved good-bye. Bitsy ran down the road to Sue Fly’s house. Now she had to make up for a game stop and an oil stop! Sue Fly was snoring very soundly when Bitsy arrived. Bitsy quietly pulled a pair of new glasses from her bag when Sue’s old glasses fell off her chair. Cr-r-rack-k-k! Pieces of glass scattered all over the floor. Sue woke up. “What happened?” “Don’t get up, Sue!” called Bitsy. She got a damp cloth and wiped up the glass. Bitsy didn’t want Sue to cut herself. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be,” said Sue. She put on her new glass. Thank, you Bitsy.” “Anything for a friend,” Bitsy replied. She turned to leave and looked at the sun. “Oh, dear!” bitsy said to herself. “It’s afternoon already!” On her way to Lady Bug’s house, Bitsy saw the Garden Bug meeting. “I can give Lady Bug’s letters to her now,” Bitsy thought to herself. “Thank you,” said Lady Bug. “Could I ask you a favor?” Bitsy knew she had many more Spider Deliveries to make. But she thought she could squeeze in one little favor. “I left my pie in the car,” said Lady Bug. “Do you think you could make a special Spider Delivery for me?’ ”Anything for a friend,” she said. Bitsy ran to Lady Bug’s car and got the pie. But she couldn’t run with the pie, so she walked back. The Garden bugs were glad to see their pie. Bitsy was happy to deliver it. But she was worried about her other deliveries. It was getting late. “I’ll take a shortcut through this yard,” Bitsy said to herself. “But first I need a little rest. All that running made my legs tired.” Bitsy sat on the edge of a spout and sorted her Spider Deliveries. Across the yard, she saw her friend Jeeter Bug. He was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t hear him. Whoosh-h-h! Water gushed out of the spout and washed Bitsy across the yard. “My Spider Deliveries!” cried Bitsy. “I’ll never get them dried and delivered in time. And I’ll never get to try out for The Crickets!” Jeeter Bug patted Bitsy on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bitsy,” he said. “I’ll get help.” Soon, Jeeter Bug, Buzz Bee, Lady Bug, and Sue Fly pulled up in Lady Bug’s car. “You helped us,” said Lady Bug. “Now we’ll help you.” Everyone held out the letters to dry, as Lady Bug drove Bitsy along her route. The letters dried quickly and Bitsy finished her deliveries just in time. “That was a lot of fun!” said Bitsy’ s friends. Now let’s go to the tryout!” At the tryout, Bitsy played her song. The Crickets jumped in to play along. When they were done, The Crickets said, “You have got to join us!” “I’d love to,” said Bitsy, “but who will take over my Spider Delivery route?” “We will!” her friends shouted. “But could we ask you a little favor? Will you play us another song?” “Anything for my friends,” she said.
Max wheeled his bicycle slowly down the street. He counted the newspapers in his basket. There were enough of them. He counted them money in his pocket. There wasn’t enough of it. Today was supposed to be Puppy Day. Max had planned to buy a puppy at Mr. Ross’s pet shop whish was the last on his route. He had saved his paper route money for months now. In fact, Max had started delivering papers so he could save for a puppy. Max thought he had enough money this morning, but then his mother said, “Don’t forget to buy a leash and a collar and dog food. A puppy needs those things.” Max knew his mother was right, But he was tried of waiting for his puppy. Max delivered his first paper at Anatelli’ s Music Store. Mr. and Mrs. Anatelli could play every instrument n the, even the drums! “Is today the Puppy Day, Max?” called Mr. Anatelli. Max shook his head. “Maybe next month.” He told Mr. and Mrs. Anatelli what his mother had said. Mrs. Anatelli patted Max on the arm. Then she hurried out of the shop. “Maybe I won’t get a puppy at all,” Max said. He picked up a drumstick and tapped on the drums. Max already had enough money to pay for lessons. And if he learned to play, he could be in the school band! But as he asked Mr. Anatelli about lessons, Mrs. Anatelli came back. “No, Max,” said Mrs. Anatelli. “Wait and get your puppy. His barking will be music for your ears. You could call him Drummer.” She handed Max a package. “Please take this to Mr. Ross.” Max looked at the drums one last time, and then went on his way. At Goldman’s Book Nook, Max spotted a new book. It told all about a sunken pirate ship that had just been discovered. There were pictures of gold coins, cannon balls, and even the ship’s bell! Max counted his money. He had enough for the book. “I’d like to buy this book, please,” said Max. “Oh, no, Max, I’m sorry,” Mrs. Goldman said. “I can’t sell you that. It’s the only copy I have. Besides, I thought today was Puppy Day.” “I have to wait another month for the puppy,” said Max. “I just thought I could have this book now.” Max put the book down. Nothing was going his way today. “Well, you wait for your puppy. You could call him Pirate.” Mrs. Goldman handed Max a package. “Please give this to Mr. Ross when you see him.” Max put her package in with his papers. He got on his bike and pedaled to his next stop. At Mrs. Garcia’s Candy Shop, Max knew for sure what he would buy. He could get enough candy to stock his tree house until next Halloween. When Max tried to go into the shop, Mrs. Garcia wouldn’t let him in. She didn’t want to sell Max any candy. “A puppy’s company will be sweeter than all the candy in my shop. You could even call him Candy!” she laughed. Max still wanted to go inside, but Mrs. Garcia handed him a package. “Please take this next door to Mr. Ross.” Max wheeled his bicycle to Mr. Ross’s door. Puppies and dogs yipped and danced inside. The parrot called, “Hello.” “I can’t get a puppy today, Mr. Ross,” Max said. “Well, that works out,” said Mr. Ross, “because I can’t sell you a puppy today.” “Nobody will sell me anything today,” Max told him. “Not drum lessons, not books, not candy. And I don’t have enough money to buy a puppy.” Mr. Ross smiled. “Well, that works out, too, Max. Your friends bought a puppy for you.” “Surprise!” Mr. and Mrs. Anatelli, Mrs. Goldman, and Mrs. Garcia crowded into the pet shop. Max couldn’t believe it. It really was Puppy Day after all! “All you have to buy is a collar, a leash, and some dog food,” said Mr. Anatelli. “Now open the packages we gave you.” One bye one, Max opened the gifts. There was a god whistle from Mr. and Mrs. Anatelli, a dog book from Mrs. Goldman, and a dog biscuit from Mrs. Garcia. “Now it’s time to pick a puppy,” they said. Max scooped up three puppies. Tow of the puppies wiggled out of his arms. But the fluffy white puppy stayed in his arms and even licked his face! “This is my new puppy!” said Max. “Do you think I should name him Drummer or Pirate or Candy?” His friends didn’t know and Max couldn’t decide. “One thing’s for sure. I’m very lucky to have friend like you!” Max said. “Hey, that’s it! I’ll call my puppy LUCKY.”
Lucy Ladybug rushed around her beauty shop, getting ready for her customers. “Today will be my busiest day ever,” she said. “Everyone in town will be here. They want to look nice for the ball tonight.” Lucy’s customers always asked for exactly what they wanted, and Lucy always made sure she gave them exactly what they asked for. Lucy made sure she had everything she would need. “Lavender shampoo for Hannah Honeybee,” said Lucy. “Christine Cricket’s styling gel. And extra-firm hair spry for Greta Grasshopper.” Lucy lined up the bottles and unlocked the door of Lucy’s Beauty Shop. Hannah, Christine, and Greta hurried through the doors. Hannah pointed to a picture in a magazine. “Can you make my hair look like this?” she asked. “No problem,” said Lucy. “My hair needs to be washed and curled,” said Christine. “Have a seat,” said Lucy. “My hair is a mess!” cried Greta. “I need an inch trimmed off. Can you do something to keep it from getting in my eyes while I’m dancing?” “Of course,” said Lucy. Lucy sat Hannah, Christine, and Greta down. Then Lucy quickly went to work. Lucy washed and rolled Christine’s hair. Then she cut Hannah’s bangs. While Christine sat under the hair dryer, she trimmed an inch off Greta’s hair. Soon Christine’s hair was dry. Lucy unrolled it and combed it until it shined. “Exactly what I wanted,” said Christine. Lucy sprayed Greta’s hair with hair spray. Then she tied it back with a bow. “You always give me exactly what I ask for,” said Greta. Lucy pinned Hannah’s hair up onto head. “Here is your new style,” said Lucy. “It’s called a beehive.” As Christine, Greta, and Hannah admired their hairstyles in the mirror, Betty Beetle hurried into Lucy’s Beauty Shop with her daughter, Bridget. They both needed their hair styled for the ball, too. “Fix my hair the usual way,” said Betty. Lucy washed and curled Betty’s hair. The she brushed it until the ends flipped up. “How wonderful!” exclaimed Betty. “You always give me exactly what I want.” Bridget had been very quiet. “What kind of style do you want?” Lucy asked her. Bridget shrugged. She knew what to do on a pitcher’s mound or in a batter’s box, but she had never been to Lucy’s shop before. Bridget was a little shy about asking for wanted. “Something nice,” said Bridget. “Something nice it is,” said Lucy. “I’ll give you the latest style.” Lucy trimmed and curled Bridget’s hair. Her hair prang up in little coils all over her head. “Adorable!” said Hannah Honeybee. “Cute!” said Greta Grasshopper. But Bridget didn’t say anything. She just sat very still in her chair. “It is what you wanted?” asked Lucy. Bridget stared down at her sneakers. “Well, not exactly,” she mumbled. “Let’s try something else,” said Lucy. She combed, teased, and sprayed Bridget’s hair, the handed Bridget a mirror. “Lovely,” said Christine Cricket. “Beautiful,” said Bridget’s mother. But again, Bridget didn’t say anything. “This isn’t what you wanted, either, is it?” asked Lucy. Bridget shook her head. It wasn’t what she wanted. “Maybe you would like a flip, dear.” Betty tried to curl up the ends of Bridget’s hair. “Or a beehive,” said Hannah. She piled Bridget’s hair on top of her head. Christine thought Bridget needed styling gel. Greta suggested more hair spray. Everyone told Lucy exactly what they thought Bridget wanted. Everyone except Bridget, she squirmed in her chair as the other customers fussed over her. They poked and pulled and twisted her hair until finally Bridget yelled, “STOP!” Bridget looked around the shop. “Nobody knows what I want, except me. A beehive is fine for Mrs. Honeybee, but I would look funny wearing one. Mom’s hairstyle is nice, but it’s not right for me. And I like Miss Cricket’s curls and Mrs. Grasshopper’s bow, but their hair wouldn’t look good on me either.” Bridget stopped and took a deep breath. “I really like ponytails,” said Bridget, “but Mom says that they aren’t dressy enough for the ball.” Lucy smiled. “Let’s just see about that.” Lucy curled Bridget hair again. She pulled it back in two ponytails and tied a pink ribbon around each one. She handed Bridget a mirror. Bridget slowly looked into the mirror. “Ponytails!” she cried. “Exactly what I wanted.” Lucy nodded. “Here at Lucy’s Beauty Shop, when you ask for what you want, you get what you ask for.” “I never knew how pretty ponytails could be!. Said Bridget’s mother. Lucy smiled and waved good-bye to her customers. Then she looked at her watch. “Oh, my! I need to hurry if I’m going to get my own hair fixed in time for the ball. Now, what style do I want?”
Based on the original story by Margery Williams Adapted by Cynthia Benjamin and Megan Musgrave
One bright Easter morning, a boy woke up to find a wonderful basket waiting for him in his playroom. He was very excited! The basket was full of jelly-beans, chocolate eggs, and marshmallow treats. But the best present of all was his new velveteen rabbit. The rabbit’s coat was soft, and the insides of his ears were shiny satin. He was just the right size for the boy to cuddle. The boy hugged the rabbit close and gave him a kiss on his soft, velvety nose. The boy stayed in the playroom with the rabbit all day. He didn’t play with any of his other toys. Soon it was dinner time and the boy had to live his rabbit in the playroom. Once he was gone, the other toys talked to the rabbit. A shiny robot asked, “What can you do?” “I don’t know,” replied the rabbit. “Well, I can walk back and forth,” said the robot. “And someday I am going to be real. Are you?” The rabbit turned to Old Horse. He was the oldest and wisest toy in the playroom. “What’s real?” asked the rabbit. Old Horse smiled. “Real is when a child loves you very, very much for a long, long time,” he replied/ “It’s when he loves you so much that your shiny coat grows dull, and you don’t look so new any more.” “Oh, my!” exclaimed the rabbit. “When you are real you don’t care how you look because there is nothing better than being loved,” said Old Horse. Just then the boy came into the playroom. “Come on, Bunny. It’s bed time,” said the boy. The boy took the rabbit to bed with him and snuggled him close all night long. The rabbit felt warm and cozy. “This must be what it feels like to be loved,” thought the rabbit. “Someday I am going to be real.” One day the boy put the rabbit in his red wagon. “You seem to like that rabbit better than all your other toys,” said the boy’s mother. “He’s not a toy, he’s real.” Said the boy. The rabbit was so happy. “The boy really lives me,” he thought. “And now I am real.” The boy took the rabbit on a ride. When they got to the woods. The boy left the rabbit to search for treasures. Two strange creatures came out from behind the trees and hopped toward the rabbit. They hat long back legs and brown fur. “What are you?” one of them asked, wrinkling his nose. “Why, I’m a rabbit, just like you!” said the velveteen rabbit. “Then why don’t you play with us?” asked the other rabbit, hopping around. “You’re not real.” “But I am real, the boy told me so,” said the velveteen rabbit. But the rabbits just giggled and hopped away. After a long time, the velveteen rabbit’s fur had worn away from being hugged so much by the boy. Most of his fuzzy nose had been kissed away and his satiny ears had lost their shine. But the rabbit was happy because he knew how much the boy loved him. One day, though, the boy became sick. He didn’t want any of his toys anymore, not even the velveteen rabbit. The doctor told the boy’s parents he needed to go away to the seaside to get better. On the day he left, the boy placed the rabbit under their favorite tree in the woods. “I what you to remember all the wonderful times we had together, Bunny,” said the boy sadly. When the boy went away, the rabbit became very sad. He became so sad that he began to cry. A real tear slid down his velveteen cheek and fell to the ground. Suddenly a flower grew out of the place where the rabbit’s tear had fallen. Its white petals opened, and out stepped a beautiful fairy. “Do not cry,” said the fairy. “I am the fairy of nursery magic. When toys have been loved by a child as much as the boy loved you, I make them real.” And with that, she kissed the velveteen rabbit. Suddenly the rabbit’s nose began to itch. Without thinking, he scratched it with his back leg. “I cam move!” he cried. The rabbit began to hop and leap and jump for joy! “Now I am real!” he laughed. The rabbit hopped into the woods and became friends with the rabbits he had met there long ago. Many months later, the boy returned to his favorite tree. Suddenly a rabbit hopped out from behind. “You’re my velveteen rabbit, aren’t you?” asked the boy. The rabbit blinked at the boy, then hopped off into the woods. The boy smiled and said, “I always knew you were real.”
Tiny Train’s Big Job Written by Conor Wolf (Adapted by Lisa Harkrader)
Tiny Train chugged into the train house. Night was falling and she wanted to get to bed early. “The quicker I get to sleep,” she said, “the quicker morning will come. Tiny Train backed into the train house beside Diesel Engine and Passenger Engine. Tiny Train was the smallest train in the train yard, so she had the smallest stall. “But I don’t mind,” she said. “Tomorrow I get to leave the train yard for the first time. I’ll show everyone that small trains can do big things.” Tiny Train drifted off to sleep. All night long she dreamed of the things she would do once she left the train yard. In her dreams she hauled valuable cargo over tall mountains. When she delivered her cargo, the engineer and brakeman cheered. “Thank you, Tiny Train,” they said. You pulled more boxcars than any engine in the train yard. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Once her cargo was delivered, her dreams took her off on another adventure. This time she was an express train, carrying very important passengers to very important meetings far away. When she arrived at the station, the passengers cheered and shouted, “Thank you, Tiny Train. That was the fastest trip and the smoothest ride we’re ever had. We couldn’t have gotten here without you.” Morning came, and Tiny Train woke up early. She rumbled out of the train house, ready to make her dreams come true. “Toot! Toot!” Tiny Train sounded her whistle and chugged down the tracks out of the train yard. She saw Diesel Engine pulling a heavy load of logs and coal. “I could pull a load like that,” Tiny Train thought to herself. She rolled over to Diesel Engine and blew her whistle again. “I’m here to help,” said Tiny Train. “If you want to help,” puffed Diesel Engine, “just stay put of my way. I’ve got hard work to do.” “I can work hard,” said Tiny Train. “I’m sure you can,” said Diesel Engine. “But this job is too big for a little train like you. Run along and find something else to do. Something your size.” Diesel Engine chugged on with his heavy load. Tiny Train frowned. “Small trains can do big things.” She tooted her whistle and chugged off down the tracks. Soon she saw Passenger Engine. Passenger Engine looked so sleek and shiny carrying her important passengers. Tiny Train could see those passengers though the windows. She saw serious-looking business people traveling to meetings. She saw excited families eager to start their vacation. They were all depending on Passenger Engine to get them where they were going. “They could depend on me, too,” Tiny Train though to her self. She tooted her whistle and sped up to catch Passenger Engine. “I came to help,” said Tiny Train. “You are much to small,” said Passenger Engine, “and we are going too fast. You could never keep up.” “Yes, I could,” panted Tiny Train. “I’m very dependable.” “Yes, you are,” said Passenger Engine, “but this job is too big for a little train like you. Run along and find something else to do. Something your size.” Passenger Engine steamed off down the tracks. Tiny Train huffed and puffed to a stop. “Passenger Engine was going fast,” she said, “but I could go fast, too. Small trains can do big things.” Tiny Train tooted her whistle and chugged off down the tracks. Soon she came to the zoo tunnel. A train car was stopped on the tracks. Baby Elephant was sat inside the car. Railroad workers and zoo officials were looking at Baby Elephant and scratching their heads. Tiny Train rolled over to the train car. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “I need to get into the zoo to be with my mother,” said Baby Elephant. “But all the trains engines are too big to go through such a small tunnel.” Tiny Train looked at the tunnel. “It’s small,” she said, “but so am I!” Tiny Train baked up and hooked onto Baby Elephant’s train car. She puffed out steam, tooted her whistle, and chugged trough the tunnel. Baby Elephant was so happy she raised her trunk and let out a big trumpeting sound. Mama Elephant was also happy and trumpeted back. The railroad workers and zoo officials cheered. “Thank you, Tiny Train,” they said. “We couldn’t have done it without you. You can work here every day. This job is just right size for you.” The animals all cheered. Tiny Train was very happy. “This job is the right size for me,” Tiny Train said as she chugged down the track, “because small trains can do big things, you know.”
Speedy was a lively colt. He lived on a farm with many horses. Speedy’s whole family lived there and so did other families with their little colts. Speedy and his friends were born in the early spring. They enjoyed their very first summer together. The colts had nothing much to do but play all day in the fields. Speedy had a best friend named Lightning. Speedy and Lightning were growing bigger and stronger every day. “Come on, Lightning!” said Speedy. “Let’s play chase with the others.” All the colts tore around the fields, chasing each other, chasing the butterflies, and chasing the wind. They loved to play chase together. Speedy and Lightning were the fastest little colts on the farm. They raced way ahead of the other colts. They circled back to their friends and played chase with them some more. One day Speedy’s mother said to him, “You seem to be enjoying yourself and your friends. I am glad to see you play with them all day in the sunshine. You have grown into a big, strong colt.” “Thank you, Mother,” said Speedy. “My best friend Lightning is as fast as I am!” Speedy started off toward the field where Lightning was waiting for him. But his mother called after him. “Not so fast, Speedy,” said his mother. “I have something important to talk to you about.” Speedy came back to his mother, “Sorry, Mother,” he said. Speedy waited to hear what she had to say. “Son,” said his mother, “your grandfather would like to spend some time with you and show you around the woods.” “But Mom,” said Speedy, “Grandpa is so slow! He doesn’t play chase, and he can’t race! He’s not much fun.” “Your grandfather may be slow, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t fun,” said Speedy’s mother. “I want him to be happy. I promise I’ll visit him tomorrow.” “That would be very nice, Speedy,” said his mother. Speedy ran off to the path. Lightning and the other colts were waiting for him there. First they played chase together. Then Speedy and Lightning raced, and Lightning won the second one. The next day, Speedy forgot about his promise to his mother. He and his friends played all day without a care, until Speedy and Lightning’s big race. Speedy and Lightning raced each other like always. But this time, they ran clear to the edge of the field, which is where the woods began. Speedy remembered that his grandfather wanted to show him the woods. “I will keep my promise tomorrow!” Speedy thought to himself. “Today I’ll explore the woods with Lightning.” But Lightning didn’t want to go any further. “Then I’ll go on my own,” Speedy said as he trotted off. “Come back,” Lightning called. “You’ll get lost!” “No, I won’t,” shouted Speedy in reply. “I’ll be alright. See you back at the stable!” At first Speedy whinnied with joy as he trotted further into the woods down the wide path. But he ran so fast that he was soon very far from where he had been before. One wide path joined another. Speedy wasn’t sure which way to turn to get back to the field. First he tried on path, and then he tried another. No matter which way tried, he was still in the woods. Speedy began to get scared. Finally he stood still and tried not to cry. Speedy didn’t know when he would see his mother and his grandfather again. “They must be very worried,” Speedy thought to himself. As he hung his head down, a tear ran down his cheek and fell onto the path below. Just then Speedy heard the steady clip-clop of a horse walking down the path. He looked up and was instantly filled with relief. It was his grandfather walking toward him! “Grandpa!” said Speedy. “I was lost, but you found me!” “Good to see you,” said his grandfather. “Lightning came to tell me that he waited for you at the edge of the woods for a long time. I just thought I’d come and meet you!” “Why aren’t you lost, too?” asked Speedy. “I know every path on the farm and in these woods,” said his grandfather, as they walked out together. “I’ve had many years to get to know the place. Perhaps I can take you and Lightning on a long walk through the woods tomorrow.” “That’s great!” said Speedy. “I guess there’s more to life than running around, huh, Grandpa?” “Sometimes you just need to slow down,” said his grandfather, “and spend more time with your family.”