'Twas the Night Before Christmas is a classic poem by Clement C. Moore. Treasured for many generations, it is possibly the most well-known poem about Santa and his eight reindeer. Can you name all eight reindeer?
Read by Randy Erdman, former mayor of the City of Albert Lea.
Recording time: 3 min., 04 sec
]]>'Twas the Night Before Christmas is a classic poem by Clement C. Moore. Treasured for many generations, it is possibly the most well-known poem about Santa and his eight reindeer. Can you name all eight reindeer?
Read by Randy Erdman, former mayor of the City of Albert Lea.
Recording time: 3 min., 04 sec
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]]> I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow--
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all.
He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed. The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow-- Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all. He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me! One morning, very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
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]]>Nobody heard him and nobody saw,
His is a picture you never could draw,
But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,
When children are happy and playing alone.
He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass,
He sings when you tinkle the musical glass;
Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why,
The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!
He loves to be little, he hates to be big,
'Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig;
'Tis he when you play with your soldiers of tin
That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.
'Tis he, when at night you go off to your bed,
Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your head;
For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf,
'Tis he will take care of your playthings himself!
Nobody heard him and nobody saw,His is a picture you never could draw,But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,When children are happy and playing alone.
He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass,He sings when you tinkle the musical glass;Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why,The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!
He loves to be little, he hates to be big,'Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig;'Tis he when you play with your soldiers of tin
That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.
'Tis he, when at night you go off to your bed,Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your head;For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf,'Tis he will take care of your playthings himself!
]]>Chewing, chewing, chewing,
She does not care what folks out there
In the great, big world are doing.
She sees the small cloud-shadows pass
And green grass shining under.
If she does think, what does she think
About it all, I wonder?
She sees the swallows skimming by
Above the sweet young clover,
The light reeds swaying in the wind
And tall trees bending over.
Far down the track she hears
the crack of bullock-whips, and raving
Of angry men where,
in the sun, Her fellow-beasts are slaving.
Girls, we are told, can scratch and scold,
And boys will fight and wrangle,
And big, grown men, just now and then,
Fret o'er some fingle-fangle,
Vexing the earth with grief or mirth,
Longing, rejoicing, rueing--
But by the sliprails stands our cow,
Chewing.]]>Recording time: 5 min., 58 sec.
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]]>Learn how the Tin Woodman became...tin!
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]]>The Wonderful Wizard of Oz begins with Chapter 1: The Cyclone. Dorothy tells us about her life in Kansas and how gray and dreary it is. One day, she gets swept up into a tornado . . .
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"WILL you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the fly; |
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"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy. |
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The way into my parlor is up a winding stair; |
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And I have many curious things to show you when you're there." |
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"Oh, no, no," said the little fly; "to ask me is in vain; |
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For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again." |
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Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly. |
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"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin; |
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And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!" |
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"Oh, no, no," said the little fly; "for I've often heard it said, |
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They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!" |
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"Dear friend, what can I do |
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To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?" |
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"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say, |
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And bidding you good-morning now, I'll call another day." |
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For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again; |
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So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly, |
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And set his table ready, to dine upon the fly. |
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Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,— |
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"Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing; |
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Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!" |
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Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by. |
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With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, |
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Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, her green and purple hue,— |
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Thinking only of her crested head—poor foolish thing! At last, |
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Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast! |
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He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den, |
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Within his little parlor,—but she ne'er came out again! |
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To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed; |
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Unto an evil counselor close heart and ear and eye, |
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And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly. |
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Recording time: X min., X sec.
"WILL you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the fly;
"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair;
And I have many curious things to show you when you're there."
"Oh, no, no," said the little fly; "to ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."
"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin;
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
"Oh, no, no," said the little fly; "for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"
Said the cunning spider to the fly,—
"Dear friend, what can I do
To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?"
"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,
And bidding you good-morning now, I'll call another day."
The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again;
So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,—
"Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple, there's a crest upon your head!
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"
Alas! alas! how very soon this silly little fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by.
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, her green and purple hue,—
Thinking only of her crested head—poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast!
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlor,—but she ne'er came out again!
And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed;
Unto an evil counselor close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.
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This story was read by volunteer Tristyn.
Recording time: 5 min., 2 sec.
]]>This story was read by volunteer Tristyn.
Recording time: 5 min., 2 sec.
]]>Recording time: Approx 2 min. Read by Jadyn and Tristyn, who are sisters (with the giggles).
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TWINKLE, twinkle, little star, |
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How I wonder what you are! |
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Up above the world so high, |
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Like a diamond in the sky. |
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When he nothing shines upon, |
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Then you show your little light, |
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Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. |
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Thanks you for your tiny spark: |
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How could he see where to go |
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If you did not twinkle so? |
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Often through my curtains peep, |
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For you never shut your eye, |
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Till the sun is in the sky. |
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Though I know not what you are, |
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Twinkle, twinkle, little star. |
Recording time: Approx 2 min. Read by Jadyn and Tristyn, who are sisters (with the giggles).
TWINKLE, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
When the traveller in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark:
How could he see where to go
If you did not twinkle so?
In the dark blue sky you keep,
Often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveller in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
]]>She goes for a walk on an ocean wave,
She fishes for cats in a coral cave;
She drinks from an empty glass of milk,
And lines her potato trees with silk.
I’m sure that fornever and never was seen
So foolish a thing as the Nonsense Queen!
She ordered a wig for a blue bottle fly,
And she wrote a note to a pumpkin pie;
She makes all the oysters wear emerald rings,
And does dozens of other nonsensible things.
Oh! the scatterbrained, shatterbrained lady so grand,
Her Royal Skyhighness of Nonsense Land!
She goes for a walk on an ocean wave,She fishes for cats in a coral cave;She drinks from an empty glass of milk,And lines her potato trees with silk.I’m sure that fornever and never was seenSo foolish a thing as the Nonsense Queen!
She ordered a wig for a blue bottle fly,And she wrote a note to a pumpkin pie;She makes all the oysters wear emerald rings,And does dozens of other nonsensible things.Oh! the scatterbrained, shatterbrained lady so grand,Her Royal Skyhighness of Nonsense Land!
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]]>Do you think Cinderella will ever be able to go to the ball and meet the prince?
]]>Do you think Cinderella will ever be able to go to the ball and meet the prince?
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]]>Read by Randy Erdman, Former Mayor of the City of Albert Lea.
Recording time: 3 min., 04 sec.
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Recording time: 3 min., 04 sec.
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]]>Ready by Tristyn and her grandmother, Terry Olson.
Recording time: 3 min., 38 sec.
]]>Ready by Tristyn and her grandmother, Terry Olson.
Recording time: 3 min., 38 sec.
]]>The Velveteen Rabbit is an award-winning beloved classic children's story.
Read by Bev Leonard.
Recording time: 22 min., 06 sec.
]]>Read by Bev Leonard.
Recording time: 22 min., 06 sec.
]]>This story is read by Merissa Kittleson.
Recording time: 12 min., 7 sec.
]]>This story is read by Merissa Kittleson.
Recording time: 12 min., 7 sec.
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