I gave him a quill.
He wrote with a pen.
She put on her cloak.
She sat on the bench.
Where shall I go now,
To get a good horse?

He said I might go,
And fetch it for him.
He has a gold watch.
Here is a white rose.
Go now to thy place.
Be still as a mouse.

She had a large silk shawl.
The lambs play on the grass.
The doves mourn in the grove,
For the loss of their mates.
It is now six o'clock.

Let us go and drink tea.

Oh taste and see that the Lord is good.
Speak the truth and sin not.
So shall thy end be peace,
And the grave be no dread.
For the sting of death is sin.

In the fall of the year, when the wind blows hard, and shakes the nuts from the trees, the boys and girls turn out, and pick them up, to crack, and eat at home by the fire-side; while the old folks sit and smoke their pipes, or read some good book.

Good boys play some, but read and work much more, they will not hurt their mates with whom they work or play, if they can help it, nor speak hard words to them, but do them all the good they can.

Good girls knit, sew, or spin, and read their books; they are not proud, but dress neat and clean, and are kind to all.

ri fle

ri ot