Tom Thumb

There was once a poor countryman who used to sit in the chimney-corner all evening and poke the fire, while his wife sat at her spinning-wheel. And he used to say, “How dull it is without any children about us; our house is so quiet, and other people’s houses so noisy and merry!” – “Yes,” answered his wife, and sighed, “if we could only have one, and that one ever so little, no bigger than my thumb, how happy I should be! It would, indeed, be having our heart’s desire.” Now, it happened that after a while the woman had a child who was perfect in all his limbs, but no bigger than a thumb. Then the parents said, “He is just what we wished for, and we will love him very much,” and they named him according to his stature, “Tom Thumb.” And though they gave him plenty of nourishment, he grew no bigger, but remained exactly the same size as when he was first born; and he had very good faculties, and was very quick and prudent, so that all he did prospered.

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Cinderella

There was once a rich man whose wife lay sick, and when she felt her end drawing near she called to her only daughter to come near her bed, and said, “Dear child, be pious and good, and God will always take care of you, and I will look down upon you from heaven, and will be with you.” And then she closed her eyes and expired. The maiden went every day to her mother’s grave and wept, and was always pious and good. When the winter came the snow covered the grave with a white covering, and when the sun came in the early spring and melted it away, the man took to himself another wife.

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Great-Grandfather

Great-Grandfather was so lovable, wise and good. All of us looked up to Great-Grandfather. As far back as I can remember, he was really called “Father’s Father,” and “Mother’s Father” as well, but when my Brother Frederick’s little son came along he was promoted, and got the title of “Great-Grandfather.” He could not expect to go any higher than that.

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The little green ones

A rose tree drooped in the window. Not so long ago it was green and blooming, but now it looked sickly – something was wrong with it. A regiment of invaders were eating it up; and, by the way, it was a very decent and respectable regiment, dressed in green uniforms. I spoke to one of the invaders; he was only three days old but already a grandfather. Do you know what he said? Well, what he said is all true – he spoke of himself and the rest of the invaders. Listen!

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The flax

The flax was in full bloom; it had pretty little blue flowers as delicate as the wings of a moth, or even more so. The sun shone, and the showers watered it; and this was just as good for the flax as it is for little children to be washed and then kissed by their mother. They look much prettier for it, and so did the flax.

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