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A Story Of The River A Story Of The River

A Story Of The River
"I think that was a beautiful story," said Sweetest Susan, when Mrs. Meadows paused; "but was that the end?" "Why, wasn't that enough?" inquired Mr. Rabbit sleepily. "What more could you ask? Didn't the boy and girl get back home where they could get something to eat?" "What became of them?" asked Buster John. "The stories about boys and girls in books say they married and lived happily ever after." "Oh, yes!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. "I've heard about it. I remember the poetry,-- "'They married, then, and lived in clover, And when... Short Stories - Post by : cyberpaul - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 1340

Mrs. Meadows Resumes Her Story Mrs. Meadows Resumes Her Story

Mrs. Meadows Resumes Her Story
The pause was occasioned by Mr. Rabbit. He had fallen into a doze while Mrs. Meadows was telling her story, and just as she came to the point where the Conjurer had lifted the little girl in his arms and carried her into his cave, Mr. Rabbit had dreamed that he was falling. His chair was tilted back a little, and he made such a mighty effort to keep himself from falling in his dream that he lost his balance and went over sure enough. "I declare!" he exclaimed. "I ought to be ashamed of myself to be falling heels over... Short Stories - Post by : icRon - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 2324

'keen-point,' 'cob-handle,' And 'butch' "keen-point," "cob-handle," And "butch"

'keen-point,' 'cob-handle,' And 'butch'
"The three bobbins," said Mrs. Meadows, "remind me of a circumstance--" "Is a circumstance a story?" interrupted Sweetest Susan. "Oh, you mustn't mind my country talk," replied Mrs. Meadows, laughing. "It was a trick of my tongue. I didn't want to say 'story' because you might be disappointed. But I reckon I may as well call it a story. Well, as I was saying, the three bobbins remind me of a story that was partly about a little girl." "I know it must be a nice story," cried Sweetest Susan enthusiastically. But Mrs. Meadows shook her head. "From all I can... Short Stories - Post by : daxion - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 2094

'now On This Bobbin I Wind A Hair 'now On This Bobbin I Wind A Hair

'now On This Bobbin I Wind A Hair
"'Now on this bobbin I wind a hair, White, and silken, and long; I wind it slow, I wind it fair, Glossy, and white, and strong. "'I wind it here in shade and sun, For one, one, one are three-- Three and no more where the stag shall run, Close by the chestnut-tree. "'And one shall catch, and two shall hold, And three shall... Poems - Post by : riviera - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 3254

The Three Ivory Bobbins The Three Ivory Bobbins

The Three Ivory Bobbins
"The little old man took the boy's hand in his, but before he could say anything, a rustling was heard in the bushes. Presently, Old Top, the deerhound, made his appearance. He went up to the boy, smelt of him, wagged his tail as a sign of satisfaction, and then curled up in the leaves as if to take a nap. But he didn't go to sleep. Every once in awhile, Old Top raised his head and listened wistfully to the running dogs that could be heard in the distance. "'A very sensible dog!' exclaimed the little old man. 'He knows... Short Stories - Post by : zorro - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 2197

The Bewitched Huntsman The Bewitched Huntsman

The Bewitched Huntsman
"There used to be a great many more witches than there are now," remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. "I reckon it's because folks have more business of their own to attend to; or, it may be a change in the climate. I hear old people say that the winters are colder now than they used to be, and the summers hotter. Maybe that has something to do with it. Anyhow, something has happened to thin the witches out." "Yes," said Mr. Rabbit; "I've noticed that they are scarcer than they used to be, but I never inquired into the whys and wherefores. They... Short Stories - Post by : nifelnox - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 3448

The Witch Of The Well The Witch Of The Well

The Witch Of The Well
While Mr. Thimblefinger was telling the story of the Strawberry-Girl, Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes had drawn near to listen. Chickamy Crany Crow stood near Mrs. Meadows, and seemed to be very much interested. When Mr. Thimblefinger had concluded, she would have gone away, but Mrs. Meadows detained her. "No," said Mrs. Meadows, as Chickamy Crany Crow tried to pull her hand away; "you must stay right here and tell the children the story of the Witch of the Well." "They know it already," said Chickamy Crany Crow, trying to hide behind Mrs. Meadows's chair. "No, we don't," exclaimed Buster John.... Short Stories - Post by : kiasu - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 1780

The Strawberry-girl The Strawberry-girl

The Strawberry-girl
"Isn't it almost time for us to start home?" said Sweetest Susan, turning to Mr. Thimblefinger. "Why, you've got all the afternoon before you," replied Mr. Thimblefinger. "Besides it will be downhill all the way. I was just going to tell you a story, but if you really want to go I'll put off the telling of it until some of your grandchildren tumble in the spring when the wet water has run out and the dry water has taken its place." "Tell the story, please," said Buster John. "It's about a girl," remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. "She was called the Strawberry-Girl.... Short Stories - Post by : KRichards447 - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 1344

Oh, This Is Mr. Rabbit! Oh, This Is Mr. Rabbit!

Oh, This Is Mr. Rabbit!
Oh, this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass; He courted Miss Meadows, when her ma was away, He crossed his legs, and said his say. He crossed his legs, and he winked his eye, And then he told Miss Meadows good-by. So it's good-by, ducky, And it's good-by, dear!... Poems - Post by : xcellence - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 766

A Singing-match A Singing-match

A Singing-match
After telling how Brother Bear learned to comb his hair, Mr. Rabbit closed his eyes and seemed to be about to fall into a doze, as old people have been known to do. During the pause that followed, Sweetest Susan saw what appeared to be a bird of peculiar shape sailing around in the sky of Mr. Thimblefinger's queer country. It was long of body and seemed to have no wings, and yet it sailed about overhead as majestically and easily as an eagle could have done. "What sort of a bird is it?" inquired Sweetest Susan, pointing out the object... Short Stories - Post by : ber10 - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 1195

Chickamy Crany Crow Chickamy Crany Crow

Chickamy Crany Crow
Oh sing it slow, This song of woe, Of the girl who went to wash her toe! Her name was Chick-- (Oh run here quick-- The word's so thick)-- Chickamy--Chickamy Crany Crow! Chickamy what? and Chickamy which?... Poems - Post by : SOS_LTD - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 821

How Brother Bear's Hair Was Combed How Brother Bear's Hair Was Combed

How Brother Bear's Hair Was Combed
While Buster John, Sweetest Susan, and Drusilla were watching Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes run away, and laughing at them, suddenly the sky in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer country grew brighter. The dark shadow of the buttermilk-jug had disappeared, and there were wavering lines of white light flashing across, as though the sun were trying to shine through. Along with these flashing lines there were wavering lines of shadow that rippled and danced about curiously. There seemed to be some tremendous commotion going on. If some person with the learning and wisdom of an astronomer had seen this wonderful display, he would... Short Stories - Post by : SunisShining - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 2959

Oh, Lullymaloo! Oh, Lullymaloo!

Oh, Lullymaloo!
I'll up and I'll grin if you tickle my chin, And I'll sneeze if you tickle my nose; I'll up and I'll cry if you tickle my eye-- But I'll squeal if you tickle my toes! Oh, grin with your chinnery in, And sneeze with your nosery oze, And cry with your wipery eye, But please don't tickle my toes! I'll grin and I'll sneeze, I'll cry and I'll... Poems - Post by : quodan - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 2477

Mr. Rabbit As A Rain-maker Mr. Rabbit As A Rain-maker

Mr. Rabbit As A Rain-maker
"I hope it won't rain," said Sweetest Susan, "for then the spring would fill up so we couldn't get out, and we should get wet down here." "Oh, no," replied Mr. Thimblefinger, "the water is never wet down here. It is a little damp, that's all." "Well, that's enough, I'm sure," remarked Mr. Rabbit. "It's enough to give me the wheezes when I first get up in the morning, and it's not at all comfortable, I can tell you." "There is one funny thing about springs," said Mrs. Meadows, "no matter how much it rains, they never get any fuller. They... Short Stories - Post by : paorabear - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 3165

The Looking-glass Song The Looking-glass Song

The Looking-glass Song
It's oh! and it's ah! It's alack! and alas! Just imagine you lived in a big looking-glass! Oh, what could you say and what could you do If you lived all alone in the toe of a shoe? You could hop, you could skip, you could jump, you could dance, And you'd hear very little of "shouldn'ts" and "shan'ts." You could stump your big toe, and it would never get hurt; You could kick up the sand, you could play... Poems - Post by : vastdream - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 2317

The Looking-glass Children The Looking-glass Children

The Looking-glass Children
The frame of the mirror was of dark wood, curiously carved, and it was set on pivots between two small but stout upright posts, made of the same kind of wood. As Mrs. Meadows brought the looking-glass out, it swung back and forth between these posts, and its polished surface shone with great brilliancy. The children wondered how they were to amuse themselves with this queer toy. Mrs. Meadows placed the looking-glass a little way from them, but not facing them. The frame was in profile, so that they could see neither the face nor the back of the mirror. "You... Short Stories - Post by : Numan - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 995

Brother Terrapin's Fiddle-string Brother Terrapin's Fiddle-string

Brother Terrapin's Fiddle-string
Mr. Rabbit moved his body uneasily about, and scratched his head, and crossed and uncrossed his legs several times before he began. "I declare it isn't right!" he exclaimed after a while. "I don't mind telling about other folks, but when it comes to talking about myself, it is a different thing." "Don't you remember the time you tried to get Brother Terrapin to give you a fiddle-string?" asked Mrs. Meadows, laughing a little. "Oh, that was just a joke," replied Mr. Rabbit. "Call it a joke, then," said Mrs. Meadows. "You know what the little boy said when the man... Short Stories - Post by : rickd222 - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 2368

The Ladder Of Lions The Ladder Of Lions

The Ladder Of Lions
The shadow that seemed to fall over everything caused Buster John and Sweetest Susan and Drusilla to run to the door. It was not a very dark shadow, but it was dark enough to attract their attention and excite their alarm. They were not yet used to their surroundings, for, although a great many things they saw and heard were familiar to them, they could not forget that they had come through the water in the spring. They could not forget that Mr. Thimblefinger was the smallest grown person they had ever seen,--even if he were a grown person,--nor could they... Short Stories - Post by : Bossbiz52 - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 2902

The Talking-saddle And The Thief The Talking-saddle And The Thief

The Talking-saddle And The Thief
The queer-looking girl was running from the very queer-looking boy, and both were laughing loudly. When they saw the children sitting at the table they both stopped suddenly. The queer-looking girl turned and made a wry face at the very queer-looking boy. At this both burst out laughing, and suddenly stopped again. "Be ashamed of yourselves!" exclaimed old Mr. Rabbit, rapping on the floor with his cane. "Be ashamed! Where are your manners? Go and speak to our friends and make your best bow, too,--don't forget that!" Mr. Rabbit appeared to be very indignant. Mrs. Meadows was in a better humor.... Short Stories - Post by : Paddy - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 1256

The Talking-saddle The Talking-saddle

The Talking-saddle
Just then Mrs. Meadows smoothed out her apron and rose from her chair. "I smell dinner," she said, "and it smells like it is on the table. Let's go in and get rid of it." She led the way, and the children followed. The dinner was nothing extra,--just a plain, every-day, country dinner, with plenty of pot-liquor and dumplings; but the children were hungry, and they made short work of all that was placed before them. Drusilla waited on the table, as she did at home, but she didn't go close to Mr. Rabbit. She held out the dishes at arm's... Short Stories - Post by : brennan - Date : August 2011 - Author : Joel Chandler Harris - Read : 1770