The First[-fifth] Reader ...Scribner, Armstrong, 1875 - Readers |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 59
Page 19
... hour , the rope shall be well fastened to the shore , or I will perish in the attempt . " 12. " Does he know how to swim ? " asked the cap- tain . 13. " As swiftly and as easily as an eel , " replied one of the crew : 14. " I could swim ...
... hour , the rope shall be well fastened to the shore , or I will perish in the attempt . " 12. " Does he know how to swim ? " asked the cap- tain . 13. " As swiftly and as easily as an eel , " replied one of the crew : 14. " I could swim ...
Page 21
... hour ; the ball of string continued to be unrolled , but at unequal periods . At length , it slipped slowly over the side of the vessel , and often fell as if slackened . They thought Jacques must have much difficulty in getting through ...
... hour ; the ball of string continued to be unrolled , but at unequal periods . At length , it slipped slowly over the side of the vessel , and often fell as if slackened . They thought Jacques must have much difficulty in getting through ...
Page 31
... hour , if thee can spare it , mother . " 26. " I can , dear . " 27. " Do you care for flowers ? " asked David , turning to Christie . " If you don't , this will be a very trying place for you . " 28. " I used to love them dearly ; but I ...
... hour , if thee can spare it , mother . " 26. " I can , dear . " 27. " Do you care for flowers ? " asked David , turning to Christie . " If you don't , this will be a very trying place for you . " 28. " I used to love them dearly ; but I ...
Page 50
... hour could be safely lost , decided to remain in their encampment for the religious observance of the Lord's day . 16. Early Monday morning , having repaired their shattered boat , they spread their sails again to the wintry winds and ...
... hour could be safely lost , decided to remain in their encampment for the religious observance of the Lord's day . 16. Early Monday morning , having repaired their shattered boat , they spread their sails again to the wintry winds and ...
Page 51
... hours , reached the May- flower with their report . Without loss of time , the ship weighed anchor , and , on the 21st of December , entered the bay , and made immediate and vigorous arrangements for the establishment of that infant ...
... hours , reached the May- flower with their report . Without loss of time , the ship weighed anchor , and , on the 21st of December , entered the bay , and made immediate and vigorous arrangements for the establishment of that infant ...
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Common terms and phrases
animal arms Babie Bell beautiful bell beneath bird blue boat Bob Cratchit brave breath Bridal Veil Fall bridge Cape Alexander captain Carcassonne Carthage cheat-ed ye clouds Cratchit cried dark dashed dead door Earl of Angus earth ELIZA COOK eyes face feet fell fire flames flowers foam gray green Gulnare hair hand head heard heart Heaven hills horses hour J. G. Holland John S. C. Abbott land light living look miles morning mother never night o'er passed Procida rising river roar rock rose round sail sandpiper seemed shore shouted side silent smile snow sound stood sweet tears thee things thou thought Tiny Tim trees turned valley voice wall walrus Washington Irving watched waves wild wind window woods words young
Popular passages
Page 326 - That orbed maiden , with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn...
Page 169 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.
Page 404 - All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.
Page 325 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Page 189 - Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Page 405 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Page 189 - Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Page 220 - To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Beside the bed where parting life was laid, And sorrow, guilt, and pain by turns dismayed, The reverend champion stood. At his control Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
Page 219 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year...
Page 404 - Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.