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cross, kickin' Billy. “The roads was good, and I never picked up a stone nor dropped a shoe, and I got on a long piece. I'll be there pretty soon,” says he. “Why,” says Billy, “what a foolish fellow you be! You've been in the same place all day, and ain't got on one mite. What do you mean by there? Where is it you think you 're goin', anyway?" “Well, I don't 'xackly know,” says Jack,

says Jack, “but I'm gittin' there real spry. I 'most see it one time to-day.” He did n't mind Billy's laughin' at him, and tryin' to keep him from bein' sat'sfied. He jest went on tryin' and tryin' to git there, and hopin' and b’leevin' he would after a spell. He was always peart and comfortable, took his work real easy, relished his victuals and drink, and slept first rate nights. But Billy he fretted and scolded and kicked and bit, and that made him hot and tired, and got him whipped, and hollered at, and pulled, and yanked. You see, he had n't got anything in his mind to chirk him up, for he did n't believe anything good was comin', as Jack did; he 'most knowed it was n't, but Jack 'most knowed it was. And Jack took notice of things that Billy never see at all. He see the trees a-growin', and heered the birds a-singin', and Injun Brook a-gugglin' along over the stones, and he watched the butterflies a-flyin', and sometimes a big yeller 'n' black one would light right on his back. Jack took notice of 'em all, and he'd say, “I'm gittin' along now, certain sure, for there's birds and posies and flyin' things here I never see back along. I guess I 'm most there.” “There, there!” Billy 'd say. “Where is it, anyway? I ain't never seen any o' them posies and creaturs you talk about, and I'm right side of you on these old boards the whole time.”

And all the children round there liked Jack. They'd watch the two horses workin', and they see Billy all cross and skittish, holdin' back and shakin' his head and tryin' to kick, never takin' no notice o' them nor anything. And, again, they see Jack steppin' along, peart and spry, pleasant and willin', turnin' his head when they come up to him, and lookin' friendly at 'em out of his kind brown eyes, and they 'd say, the boys and girls would, “Good Jack! Nice old Jack!” and they'd pat him and give him an apple, or a carrot, or suthin' good. But they did n't give Billy any. They did n't like his ways, and they was 'most afraid he'd bite their fingers. And Jack would say, come evenin', “It's gittin' nicer and nicer we get further on the road, ain't it? Folks is pleasanter speakin', and the victuals 'pears better flavored, and things is comfortabler every way, seem's if, and I jedge by that we ’re 'most there.” But Billy 'd say, a-grumblin' away, “It's worse 'n' worse, — young ones a-botherin' my life out o' me, and the birds a-jabberin' and the posies a-smellin' till my head aches. Oh, deary me! I 'm 'most dead.” So 't went on and kep' on. Jack had every mite as hard work as Billy, but he did n't mind it, he was so full o' what was comin' and how good 't would be to get there. And 'cause he was pleasant and willin' and worked so good, and 'cause he took notice o' all the nice things round him, and see new ones every day, he was treated real kind, and never got tired and used up and low in his mind like Billy. Even the flies did n't pester him 's they done Billy, for he on'y said, when he felt 'em bitin' and crawlin', “Dog-days is come, says he, "for here's the flies worse and worse. So the summer 's most over, and I 'll get there in a jiffy now.”

What am I stoppin' for, do you say, 'Miry? 'Cause that's all. You need n't make sech a fuss, child'en. It's done, this story is, I tell ye. Leastways I don't know any more on it. I told you all about them two horses, and which had a good time and which did n't, and what 't was made the differ'nce 'twixt 'em. But you want to know whether Jack got there. Well, I don't know no more'n the horses did what there was, but in my own mind I b'leeve he got it. Mebbe 't was jest dyin' peaceful and quiet, and restin' after all that steppin' and climbin'. He'd a-liked that, partic'lar when he knowed the folks was sorry to have him go, and would allus rec'lect him. Mebbe 't was jest livin' on and on, int'rested and enjoyin', and liked by folks, and then bein' took away from the hard work and put out to pastur' for the rest o' his days. Mebbe 't was-Oh! I d’know. Might 'a' been lots o' things, but I feel pretty certin sure he got it, and he was glad he had n't gi'n up b'leevin''t would come. For you 'member, all the time when Billy 'most knowed it was n't, Jack 'most knowed 't was.

From Story-Tell Lib."


(The person speaking does not seem to be very well educated. But you can easily see what he means as you go along. His language is spelled out just as it sounds when you listen to such a talker.)

Describe the kind of "thrashin' machine" the speaker has in mind.

What difference do you see in the way the two horses did their work? Read some of the speeches that show this difference and the reason for it.

Why did the children like Jack? Why did they not like Billy? Read the speeches both made about the children.

Would you rather be able to look at things as Jack did, or as Billy did? Do you suppose Jack really "got there"?

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One evening, as some cattle were wending their way home, a raven rode on the horns of a bull in the herd; and as he approached the cottage, cried to the farmer, "Friend, my work for the day is over: you may now take charge of your cattle."

“What was your work?” said the farmer.

“Why,” said the raven, “the arduous task of watching these cattle and bringing them home.'

“Am I to understand you have been doing all the work for me?" said the farmer.

“Certainly,” said the raven, and flew away with a laugh.

Quoth the farmer with surprise, “How many there are that take credit for things which they have never done!"

Wend'ing, going; rā'ven, a black bird like the crow, but larger; är'du ous, difficult; quõthsaid, spoke; cred'it (krěd'it), claiming honor or reward. STUDY HELPS

Read silently, and tell the story.
At what was the farmer surprised?
Do you think the raven expected the farmer to believe him?
What lesson do you think the story teaches?



A bridge weaves its arch with pearls

High over the tranquil sea;
In a moment it unfurls

Its span, unbounded, free.
The tallest ship with swelling sail

May pass beneath its arch with ease;
It carries no burden, 't is too frail,

And with your quick approach it flees.
With the flood it comes, with the rain it goes;

What it is made of nobody knows. Trăn'quil (kwil), quiet; ănfúrls', opens, unfolds; swěll'ing, filled out with the wind.


Notice all the things you are told about this bridge.
Have you ever seen a bridge like it?
If you have, describe it.
What is meant by “weaves its arch with pearls" ?
What is the answer to the riddle?

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