When
the great wagon reached the town hall it stopped. The cages were taken
down from the branches of green, and little children, with eager hands
and happy eyes, threw open the doors. Out came the birds and away they
flew to field and orchard and wood, singing again and again:
"Oh! we are glad to be here! We are glad to be here!"
The little children sang, too, and the gray-haired farmers said: "The
birds must always stay in Killingworth."
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [Adapted]
THE MYTH OF PAN
In a very far-away country, a long time ago, there lived a man who loved
music and little children and the birds and flowers. And the little
children loved Pan--for that was his name--because he told them such
beautiful stories and played on a set of pipes which he had made from
the reeds which grew by the river. Every evening, when it was time for
the sun to go to sleep and all the little stars to wake up, Pan would
take his pipes, go down to the river side, and play all the songs he
knew. Everybody could hear Pan's music for miles and miles, but many of
them did not like his music, and wished that he would not play.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41