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The keynote of joyousness is struck by the title "Morning Face," since the words represent the inspired idea of R. L. Stevenson in his verse, "If I have shown no morning face." About this idea Gene Stratton-Porter, author of "Laddie," "Freckles," etc., has made this book for children. Although many tens of thousands of children have read and loved "Freckles" and her other books, this is the first time she has made a book specially for the youngsters. In prose and verse she gives her word-pictures of the buds, the flowers, and the life of the out-of-doors.
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Morning Face
Morning Face, G. Stratton-Porter
Jazzybee Verlag Jürgen Beck
86450 Altenmünster, Loschberg 9
Deutschland
ISBN: 9783849648695
www.jazzybee-verlag.de
WILDFLOWER WOODS. 1
MORNING FACE.. 1
WILDFLOWER WOODS. 1
BREAD AND MILK.. 1
THE INDIGO BLUE BIRD.. 1
THE SPIDER'S TRAP. 1
HOW THE FLOWERS WERE MADE.. 1
LITTLE CHICKENS. 1
BOB WHITE AND PHOEBE BEECHER.. 1
ROMEO AND JULIET SQUIRREL. 1
GOOD CHILDREN.. 1
BAD CHILDREN.. 1
HOW THE CARDINAL GOT HIS RED COAT.. 1
THE BLUE TURTLE.. 1
HORNED OWL. 1
THE BARN OWL. 1
THE SCREECH OWL. 1
A KISS. 1
WHY THE LOONS WENT CRAZY.. 1
JOHN AND JANE ALLIGATOR.. 1
"GENE, DO SING-SONG 'BOUT THE FLOWERS". 1
THE QUEER RAIN.. 1
THE PATHETIC CATERPILLAR.. 1
THE HICKORY MOTH.. 1
KATYDID AND GALLINIPPER.. 1
SCREECH OWL BABIES. 1
THE UNHAPPY CATS. 1
THE SNOW BOYS. 1
HOW DOTTY AND SPOTTY KINGFISHER QUARREL. 1
BABES O' THE WOODS. 1
THE HERMIT BIRD.. 1
SAMMY AND SUSY SHRIKE.. 1
ROMPERS. 1
THE CUCKOO CLOCK.. 1
THE BAD LITTLE DUCKS. 1
MORNING GLORY MUSIC.. 1
RUBEN AND THE REDBIRD.. 1
FATHER PIGEON.. 1
THE FIRST CONCERT.. 1
BABY FLICKERS. 1
NESTIN'1
Listen to old Screech Owl screech, Down in his house in the big gray beech. Mister Coon went there to dine, And stuck his mouth with porcupine. Swinging on a grapevine swing, Hear old Redbird's whistle ring! Hear him cry: "Good cheer, Good cheer! I live in Gene's woods all the year." Mister Rattlesnake, down in the grass, Wouldn't let Mud Turtle pass. Turtle bit a diamond off his back, Guinea on the fence cried: "Rack! Pot rack!" Old Miss Swallow wanted a drink, Black Bass gobbled her, quick as wink. Kingfisher watching from a dead tree, Laughed: "Ha, ha! You can beat me!" Missus Field Mouse found a great big hole Dug in her house by Miss Ground Mole. "Look what you've done!" she cried in surprise. "' Look I'" said Miss Mole. "Without any eyes?"
Ground Puppy had a crick in his back, He went to Dr. Duck, a dreadful quack. Duck cured the pain, but Puppy didn't thrive, 'Cause his doctor ate him alive. Missus Pewee built her nest 'bove the door, Red Squirrel threw her eggs on the floor. When he ran to the closest tree, Yellow Hammer hammered him com-plete-ly.
Mother Ground Hog stold a cabbage head, The Paris-green made her sick in bed. Mr. Ground I log gave her "pod-o-phyl-lene," To counteract the dose of Paris-green. Old Mr. Musk Rat left his 'dobe house, On Gene's rarest orchid bed to browse, Blue Jay cried: "I'm going straight to tell!" So he rang the big dinner bell. Gene came flying with the kitchen broom, Musk Rat hiked back to his closest room. If I could do just what I really wish, I'd live there so I could help Grandad fish.
Every morning before we eat, My mother prays a prayer sweet. With folded hands and low-bowed head: "Give us this day our daily bread." But I'd like tarts and ginger cakes, Puffs and pie like grandmother makes. So 'smorning I said my appetite Must have cake, or 'twouldn't eat a bite. Then mother said: "'Fore you get through, You'll find just bread and milk will do." She always lets me think things out, But I went to the yard to pout, What I saw there—Upon my word! I'm glad I'm a girl,—not a bird. Redbreast pulled up a slick fishworm, To feed her child: it ate the squirm. Bee-bird came flying close to me, And caught a stinging honey bee. She pushed it down her young, alive. She must have thought him a beehive.
Old Warbler searched the twigs for slugs, Rose Grosbeak took potato bugs. Missus Wren snapped up a spider, To feed her baby, close beside her. Little Kingbirds began to squall, Their mother hurried at their call. She choked them with dusty millers. Cuckoos ate hairy caterpillars. Blue birds had worms, where I could see, For breakfast, in their hollow tree. Then little Heron made me squeal, Beside our lake he ate an eel. When young Screech Owl gulped a whole mouse, I started fast for our nice house. Right over me—for pit-tee sake, Home flew a hawk, with a big snake! So 'fore my tummy got awful sick, I ran and kissed my mother quick. I acted just as fine as silk And asked polite for bread and milk.
'Cause we are Indigo Babies you'd think we are blue, But we're gray and brown with small touches of white. You can see that our tummies are stuffed bursting tight, We Hew 'way up here from our cradle all right, And we are going to act big and sleep up here, too! I am always a good bird and behave most polite, But my little Brother is one of the very worst, He stretches the tallest and grabs the biggest bug first, If he'd swallowed one more worm to-day, he'd have burst, Mummy says he can be trusted to act a perfect fright. I couldn't be blamed much, if I'd start family fights, Brother is going to be blue, but I got to stay brown. He always swallows the biggest, juiciest bites down, I think I am the one to squall, scold and frown, I believe I'll be progressive and vote for women's rights!
A big black spider, homed in my tulip bed, So that her children might be comfortably fed. She wove her dainty web, with such cunning art, Around every stamen in the tulips' heart, That never a bee, called by the colors gay, Lived to hunt honey on another fair day.
You know, Morning Face, that old Mother Nature made all the pretty things in the world, so of course she made the flowers. You know, too, that the earth is her house, so like every woman, she wanted it to be beautiful. In the beginning of the world she had plain moss green carpet for her floor, green vines, bushes and trees for her walls, with blue, cloud-covered sky for her roof. She had the sun for light by day, the moon was her big lamp at night and each little twinkly star was her candle. The winds were her fan. She had gay colour forever shining on the faces of the seas and lakes, reflected by the sky, the sun, moon, stars, and clouds. Sometimes she had a wonderful rainbow of light all stripes of violet, blue, yellow, and red; but the forests, the fields, and mountains were all some shade of green, while the deserts were gray and sand colour.