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					                            Table of Contents
 My Family, Friends, and I (Pages 3-8)
  1.   Jazz chant: Today is Mother’s Day (beginner)
  2.   Poetry: “Messy” by Shel Silverstein (intermediate)
  3.   Poetry: “The Little Boy and the Old Man” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
  4.   Poetry: “Loser” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
  5.   Poetry: “Tell Me” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
  6.   Poetry: “What If’” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
  7.   Poetry: “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Elliot (advanced)

 School Life (Pages 9-12)
  8. Jazz chant: First Day of School (beginner)
  9. Poetry: “Sick” by Shel Silverstein (intermediate)
  10. Poetry: “Smart” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
  11. Dialogue: Electives and Clubs in America (intermediate)
  12. Poetry: “Ode to the Book” by Pablo Neruda (advanced)

 Leisure Time (Pages 13-14)
  13. Jazz chant: Skateboard, Water Skis Surfboard, Wow! (beginner)
  14. Poetry: “Where the Sidewalk Ends” by Shel Silverstein (advanced)
  15. Poetry: “Jimmy Jet and His TV Set” by Shel Silverstein (intermediate)

 Jobs (Pages 15-16)
  16. Text: Choosing a Profession (Plakhotnyk 9th form, page 80)
  17. Dialogue: Interviews (beginner)
  18. Song: “A Hard Days Night” by the Beatles (intermediate)

 Science and Culture (Pages 17-23)
  19. Poetry: “Ode on a Grecian Urn” by John Keats (advanced)
  20. Text: The United States of America (Plakhotnyk 9th form, page 46)
  21. Text: USA Holidays (Plakhotnyk 9th form, page 53)
  22. Jazz chant: Fourth of July-Red, White, and Blue (beginner)
  23. Jazz chant: Halloween-Halloween Parade (beginner)
  24. Jazz chant: Thanksgiving-Today’s Thanksgiving day (beginner)
  25. Jazz chant: Christmas Colors, Christmas Sounds (beginner)
  26. Jazz chant: Things That are Green (beginner)
  27. Live Radio Broadcast with Billie Holiday (advanced)
  28. Song: “Me, Myself, and I” by Billie Holiday (advanced)
  29. Song: “Strange Fruits” by Billie Holiday (advanced)
  30. Song: “Autumn in New York” by Billie Holiday (advanced)


                                                                                 1
    Nature and the World (Pages 24-26)
        31. Poetry: “Mr. Grumpledump's Song” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
        32. Poetry: “Body Language” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
        33. Poetry: “Rain” by Shel Silverstein
        34. Poetry: “To Autumn” by John Keats (advanced)
        35. Poetry: “Ode to the Artichoke” by Pablo Neruda (advanced)

    People (Pages 27-29)
        36. Jazz chant: Native American Chant (beginner)
        37. Poetry: “No Difference” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
        38. Text: Roald Dahl (beginner)
        39. Text: Benjamin Franklin (advanced)
        40. Text: Martin Luther King Jr. (advanced)

    Life in the Community (Pages 30-32)
        41. Jazz chant: New Years Resolution (beginner)
        42. Poetry: “Listen to the Mustn’ts” by Shel Silverstein (beginner)
        43. Poetry: “Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take The Garbage Out” by
            Shel Silverstein (intermediate)
        44. Text: The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein (beginner)




To:           All the wonderful English teachers in Fastiv
From:         Peace Core Trainees Group 27

A special thanks to the teachers in Schools One, Two, Four and Nine for
welcoming us and letting us be apart of your classes.

There is also a complete copy of this text on the CD. It will open on your computer
with Microsoft Word! We hope you enjoy.




                                                                                     2
                           My Family, Friends, and I


Beginner Jazz Chant Track (song) 1
Time: :37                  Today is Mother’s Day

Today is Mother’s Day.
Let’s help Mama.
I’ll make breakfast.
You make lunch.
I’ll do the dishes.
You do the shopping.
Let’s help Mama.
It’s Mother’s Day.

Today is Mother’s Day.
Let’s help Mama.
I’ll sweep the bedrooms.
You make the beds.
I’ll clean the kitchen.
You do the laundry.
Let’s help Mama.
It’s Mother’s Day.


Intermediate Poetry Track 2
Time: :43                 “Messy”
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.


                                                       3
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh dear,
I knew it looked familiar!


Beginner Poetry Track 3
Time: :41          “The Little Boy and the Old Man” by Shel Silverstein

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.


Beginner Poetry Track 4
Time: :32                    “Loser” by Shel Silverstein

Mama said I'd lose my head
If it wasn't fastened on.
Today I guess it wasn't
'Cause while playing with my cousin
It fell off and rolled away
And now it’s gone.

And I can't look for it
'Cause my eyes are in it,
And I can't call to it
'Cause my mouth is on it
(Couldn't hear me anyway
'Cause my ears are on it),
Can't even think about it
'Cause my brain is in it.
So I guess I'll sit down
On this rock
And rest for just a minute....




                                                                          4
Beginner Poetry Track 5
Time: :16                   “Tell Me” by Shel Silverstein
Tell me I’m clever, tell me I’m kind,
Tell me I’m talented, tell me I’m cute,
Tell me I’m sensitive, tell me I’m graceful and wise,
Tell me I’m perfect, but tell me the truth!




Beginner Poetry Track 6
Time: 1:00                  “What If” by Shel Silverstein
Last night while I lay thinking here some, what ifs crawled into my ear,
And pranced and partied all night long and sang there same old what if song.
What if I’m dumb in school?
What if they’ve closed the swimming pool?
What if I get beat up?
What if there’s poison in my cup?
What if I start to cry?
What if I get sick and die?
What if I flunk that test?
What if green hair grows on my chest?
What if nobody likes me?
What if a bolt of lightning strikes me?
What if I don’t grow tall?
What if my head starts getting small?
What if the fish won’t bite?
What if the wind tears up my kite?
What if they start a war?
What if my parents get divorced?
What if the bus is late?
What if my teeth don’t grow in straight?
What if I tear my pants?
What if I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well and then the nightmare what ifs strike again.




                                                                               5
Advanced Poetry Track 7
Time: 6:00        “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Elliot

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question…
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
   In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
   The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
   And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revision,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
   In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
   And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—


                                                                         6
(They will say “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
    For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
    So how should I presume?
    And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulate phrase,
And when I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spot out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
    And how should I presume?
    And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplights, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
    And should I then presume?
    And how should I begin?
    Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?...
    I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
    And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep…tired…or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
    And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,



                                                                              7
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
     Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;
     That is not it, at all.”
     And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, after the novels, after the
teacups, after the skirts that trail along the
     Floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
     “That is not it at all,
     That is not what I meant, at all.”
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or tow,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
     I grow old…I grow old…
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
     Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
     I do not think that they will sing to me.
     I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
     We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Eliot, T.S. “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” from The Waste Land, Prufrock and
         Other Poems. Mineola: Dover Publications, 1998. 1-5.




                                                                                         8
                                     School Life


Beginner Jazz Chant Track 8
Time: :27                 First Day of School

Oh, it’s the first hour
       Of the first lesson
       Of the first day of school

Oh, it’s the first hour
       Of the first lesson
       Of the first day of school

Oh, it’s the first minute
       of the first hour
       of the first day of school.

Oh, it’s the first second
       of the first minute
       of the first day of school. Hooray!



Intermediate Poetry Track 9
Time: 1:59                “Sick” by Shel Silverstein
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
'I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more-- that's seventeen,
And don't you think that my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--


                                                       9
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wretched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my spine is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say that today is... Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

Beginner Poetry Track 10
Time: :56                “Smart” by Shel Silverstein

My dad gave me one-dollar bill
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more then one!

And then I took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes-- I guess he didn't know
That three is more than two!

Just then, along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!

And I took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
And the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!

And I went and showed my dad,
And he got red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head--
Too proud of me to speak!


                                                       10
Intermediate Dialogue Track 11

Time 1:23                     Electives and Clubs in America
                (Between an American student and an exchange student from Ukraine)

      Sarah:          Hi, my name is Sarah. Welcome to high school!
      Oxana:          Thanks, my name is Oxana. I am an exchange student
                       from Ukraine.
      Sarah:          Cool! How do you like our school so far?
      Oxana:          It’s great!
      Sarah:          What classes do you have? Did you choose an elective yet?
      Oxana:          I have Algebra, Economics, British Literature, World
                       History and Physical Education, but I haven’t chosen an
                       elective yet.
      Sarah:          You could take band, art, drama, wood shop, or auto shop,
                       choir, home economics, or yearbook. There are so many
                       choices! Are you going to join any after school clubs?
      Oxana:          I don’t know. Are you in any?
      Sarah:          I am in the Student Body Government. We plan all of our
                       school activities, like dances, and assemblies. Last week
                       people performed different dances from all over the world
                       for everyone in our school. That’s the only club I’m in
                       because I also have an after school job.
      Oxana:          I was thinking about playing a sport. I heard there was a
                       girl’s American football team, it sounds like fun.
      Sarah:          You could play soccer, tennis, football, baseball, basketball,
                       volleyball, or join the track or swim team.
      Oxana:          Thanks for all of the information. Uh-oh, I will be late
                       for class, bye!
      Sarah:          See you later! Have a great day!
Vocabulary
   o Elective- a class that a student may choose to take but does not have to
   o Band- an elective where student learns how to play a musical instrument
   o Art- an elective where students learn how to draw, or paint, or make sculptures
   o Wood Shop- an elective where students learn how to build things from wood
   o Auto Shop- an elective where students learn how to work on cars
   o Choir- an elective where students learn how to sing together
   o Home Economics- an elective where students learn how to cook, and sew
   o Yearbook- an elective where students put together a book with pictures and stories
      showing the students and the events from a school year, students purchase these books
      and have their friends sign them so they will always remember that year
   o Assemblies- a gathering of all the students in a school for a special program



                                                                                          11
                                       or to eat roasted meat
Advanced Poetry Track 12                near a campfire in the mountain.
Time: 2:04                             I love books
“Ode to the Book”                      of exploration,
by Pablo Neruda                        books with forest or snow,
                                       depth or sky
Book, when I close you                 but
I open life.                           I hate
I hear half-severed shouts             the spider book
in the harbors.                        in which thought
Copper ingots                          has laid out venomous
cross the sandpits,                    wires to entangle
go down to Tocopilla.                  the juvenile and circling fly.
It’s nighttime.                        Book, let me go.
Among the islands                       I don’t want to walk dressed
our ocean                              in a volume,
throbs with its fish.                  I don’t come from a tome,
It touches the feet, the thighs,       my poems
the chalky ribs                        haven’t eaten poem,
of my country.                         they devour
The whole night sticks to its shores   passionate events,
and with the daylight                  they are nourished on the outdoors,
 it appears singing                    they extract food
as if it had wakened a guitar.         from the earth and from men.
                                       Book, let me walk on the roads
The beat of the ocean calls me         with dust in my shoes
 to myself. The wind                   and without mythology:
calls me to myself                     return to your library,
and Rodriquez calls me,                I’m going out into the streets.
Jose Antonio,
I received a telegram                  I have learned about life
 from the Miners’ Union,               from life,
and she, the woman I love              love I learned from a single kiss,
(I won’t tell you her name),           and I couldn’t teach anyone anything
is waiting for me in Bucalemu.         except that I have lived,
                                       whatever I had in common with other
Book, you were never able              men,
to put me onto paper,                  whatever I struggled for with them:
to fill me                             whatever I expressed of then all in my
with typography,                       song.
with heavenly printing,
                                       Neruda, Pablo. “Ode to the Book (1)” from Full
you were never able                    Woman, Fleshly Apple, Hot Moon. Trs. Stephen
to bind my eyes                        Mitchell. New York: HarperPerennial, 1997. 25-
I come out of you to populate groves   29.
with the hoarse family of my song,
to work burning metals


                                                                                  12
                                   Leisure Time



Beginner Jazz Chant Track 13
Time: :55                  Skateboard, Water Skis, Surfboard, Wow!

Skateboard, water skis, surfboard, wow!
Hop on your skateboard, let’s go now.
Skateboard, water skis, surfboard, wow!
Put on your water skis, let’s go now.

Skateboard, water skis, surfboard, wow!
Hop on your surfboard, let’s go now.
Skateboard, water skis, surfboard, wow!
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go now!

Hop on your   skateboard, stay on the sidewalk.
Hop on your   surfboard, catch the wave.
Hop on your   skateboard, put on your water skis.
Hop on your   surfboard, catch the wave.

Skateboard, water skis, surfboard, wow!
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go now!




Advanced Poetry Track 14
Time: :48         “Where the Sidewalk Ends” by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.


                                                                     13
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children,
they know The place where the sidewalk ends.




Intermediate Poetry Track 15
Time: :47           “Jimmy Jet And His TV Set” by Shel Silverstein
I'll tell you the story of Jimmy Jet--
And you know what I tell you is true.
He loved to watch his TV set
Almost as much as you.

He watched all day, he watched all night
Till he grew pale and lean,
From "The Early Show" to "The Late Show"
And all the shows in between.

He watched till his eyes were frozen wide,
And his bottom grew into his chair.
And his chin turned into a tuning dial,
And antennae grew out of his hair.

And his brains turned into TV tubes,
And his face to a TV screen.
And two knobs saying "vert." and "horiz."
Grew where his ears had been.

And he grew a plug that looked like a tail
So we plugged in little Jim.
And now instead of him watching TV
We all sit around and watch him.




                                                                     14
                                         Jobs

Plakhotnyk 9th form Text Track 16
Time: 1:32                Choosing A Profession

       This year you are finishing the ninth form and must choose the way you will
continue your education.
       Many roads are open before the ninth form pupils. Some of them can go to the
tenth form and receive complete secondary education at secondary schools. Those boys
and girls who want to get a specialized secondary education can go to technical schools,
teachers’ training and medical schools. But to enter these schools they must pass two
examinations successfully. One examination in their native language, the other in
mathematics. They will study at these schools for about four years and receive the
professions of technicians (radio-assemblers, electricians and so on), primary school
teachers, medical nurses and others. Many ninth form pupils nowadays prefer to go to
vocational schools where they get the professions of turners, fitters, builders, shop-
assistants, dress-makers, tailors and receive a complete secondary education. They learn
there for three or four years.
       The education at most technical schools, teachers’ training and medical schools,
vocational schools as well as at institutes and universities is free of charge in our
country.
       Moreover the students of all kinds of specialized secondary schools and higher
schools receive scholarships.


Beginner Dialogue Track 17
Time: :38                        Interviews

Interviewer:        Hello Denice, please sit down. How are you?
Denice:             I am fine thank you.
Interviewer:        Tell me about your traits of character and qualities.
Denice:             I am honest, hard working, and dependable.
Interviewer:        Are you a leader or a follower, and why?
Denice:             I am a leader, because I can lead people and complete projects.
Interviewer:        Why do you want to be a teacher?
Denice:             I want to be a teacher because I love children and to teach.
Interviewer:        Tell me about your hobbies and interests.
Denice:             I like to read, cook, and swim.
Interviewer:        Thank you Denice we will be calling you soon.
Denice:             Thank you, good day.


                                                                                      15
Intermediate Song Track 18
Time: 2:24                             “A Hard Day’s Night” by the Beatles

It’s been a hard day’s night
And I’ve been workin’ like a dog
It’s been a hard day’s night
I should be sleepin’ like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
You make me feel alright
You know I work all day
To getcha’ money to buy you things
And it’s worth it just to hear you say
You’re gonna give me everything
So while I betcha’ don’t know
Cause when I get you alone
You know I feel alright
When I’m home
Everything seems to be right
When I’m home
Feeling you holding me tight. . . Tight Yeah!
It’s been a hard day’s night
And I’ve been workin’ like a dog
It’s been a hard day’s night
I should be sleepin’ like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
They make me feel okay
So while I betcha’ don’t know
Cause when I getcha’ alone
You know I feel alright
When I’m home
Everything seems to be righ-ight
When I’m home
Feeling you holding me tight. . . Tight Yeah!
It’s been a hard day’s night
And I’ve been workin’ like a dog
It’s been a hard day’s night
I should be sleepin’ like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
You make me feel alright
You know I feel alright
You know I feel alright



                                                                             16
                                Science and Culture
Advanced Poetry Track 19
Time: 2:48        “Ode on a Grecian Urn” by John Keats

Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness!
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortal, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal – yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?


                                                         17
What little town by river or sea-shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

O Attic shape! With brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,

‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.’

Keats, John. “Ode on a Grecian Urn” from Complete Poems and Selected Letters of John Keats. New
York: The Modern Library, 2001. 238-240.



Plakhotnyk 9th form Text Track 20
Time: :56                 The United States of America

        The USA is the richest and one of the most developed countries in the world. The
territory of the USA is almost 9,400,000 square kilometers. It is washed by the Atlantic
Ocean in the east, the Pacific Ocean in the west and the Arctic Ocean in the north. The
population of the USA is 252 million people (1993). The climate is different in different
parts of the USA: from a polar climate in Alaska to continental in the greater part of the
country and subtropical and tropical in the south of the USA. The capital of the USA is
Washington DC. The country is very rich in mineral resources.


Plakhotnyk 9th form Text Track 21
Time: 1:37                National Holidays in the USA

        The Unites States is a young country. Its independence was declared in 1776.
Sometimes the USA is called the “New World”. Americans believe that if they work
hard they can have what they want and be what they want. This is a part of what they
call “the American Dream”. This is why Americans are so hard working. They do not
take many vacations, and there are only five national holidays that are celebrated in
every state. These are New Year’s Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, Thanksgiving


                                                                                                  18
Day, and Christmas Day. On these days government offices, post offices, and banks are
closed. There are other holidays, but they are not celebrated in all the states.




Beginner Jazz Chant Track 22
Time: :34                 Red, White, and Blue

Fourth of July.
Red, white, and blue.
Hamburgers, hot dogs, and chicken, too.
Fourth of July.
Red, white, and blue.
Everybody’s coming to the barbecue!

Listen to the firecrackers!
Look at the sky!
My little dog hates the Fourth of July.
Fourth of July.
Red, white, and blue.
Everybody’s comin to the barbecue!




Beginner Jazz Chant Track 23
Time: 1:09                Halloween Parade

Black cats, here they come!
Black cats, one by one.
Leaping, howling, having fun.
Black cats, here they come!

Skeletons dancing, here they come!
Skeletons dancing, one by one.
Shaking, rattling, having fun.
Skeletons dancing, here they come!

Witches flying, here they come!



                                                                                  19
Witches flying, one by one,
Witches on broomsticks, having fun.
Witches flying, here they come!

Spiders crawling, here they come!
Spiders crawling, one by one.
Creeping, crawling, having fun.
Spiders crawling, here they come!




Beginner Jazz Chant Track 24
Time: :45                Today’s Thanksgiving Day!

Today’s Thanksgiving Day!
Today’s Thanksgiving Day!
The turkey’s in the oven.
The table’s set.
Today’s Thanksgiving Day!

The peas and the carrots are ready.
The cranberry sauce is here.
The pumpkin pies look wonderful!
Today’s Thanksgiving Day!

      Is the turkey ready?
No, not yet.
      Is the turkey ready?
No, not yet.

The turkey’s ready.
Here it comes!
Today’s Thanksgiving Day! Hooray!




                                                     20
Beginner Jazz Chant Track 25
Time: 1:10                Christmas Colors, Christmas Sounds

Bright red, dark green.
These are the colors of Christmas.
Red stockings, green trees.
These are the colors of Christmas.

Gold ribbon, silver bells,
Colored lights on the Christmas tree.
Silver, gold, red, and green.
These are the colors of Christmas.

Bells ringing, children singing.
These are the sounds of Christmas.
Children playing, Santa laughing.
These are the sounds of Christmas.

Bells ringing, children singing.
Santa laughing, children playing.
Ringing, singing, laughing, playing.
These are the sounds of Christmas.


Beginner Jazz Chant Track 26
Time: :32                 Things that Are Green

The trees are green. The grass is green.
My clothes are green. My nose is green.

Your chair is green. Your hair is green.
Everything’s green on March seventeen!

His hat is green. Her cat is green.


                                                               21
His plants are green. Her pants are green.

Our house is green. Their mouse is green.
Everything’s green on March seventeen!
Advanced Interview and Songs
                                             Billie Holiday

Possible Topics: Jazz/Blues (its roots in slavery, parent of Hip Hop/Rap), New York City (Central Park, the
Ritz, slums), Jazz Instruments, Racial Tension/Lynching/Jim Crowe Laws/Segregation, Radio Broadcasting
Grammar: Point of View, storytelling, etc. (People, Life in Community, Country Studies, Jobs)

Time: 1:04 Track 27
Live Radio Broadcast:

“Billie Holliday is one of a handful of really great jazz singers. Her blues are poetic, highly intense.
Playing with her here today are some of the musicians who accompanied her back in the ‘30s in
some of the greatest jazz records ever made. Among the musicians, Roy Aldridge and Doc
Cheetum on trumpets, Colman Hockings, Lester Young and Ben, Ben Webster on saxophone. Dick
Dickinson on trombone, Jerry Mulligan on baritone sax, Mal Waldern at the piano. Milt Hinton,
Hinton on base, Danny Barker on guitar, and O.C. Johnson on the drums. Billy Holliday,” the
announcer said.
An aged sounding Billie Holliday:
“The blues to me is like being very sad, very sick, going to church, being very happy. There’s two
kinds of blues: there’s happy blues and there’s sad blues. I don’t think I ever sing the same way
twice, and I don’t think I ever sing the same tempo; one night’s a little bit slower, and the next
night’s a little bit brighter, ‘scause how I feel. I don’t know, the blues is sort of a mixed up thing,
you just have to feel it. Anything I, I do sing it’s part of my life.”


Advanced Song Track 28                                    If you’d belong to one of us
Time: 2:37
“Me, Myself, and I”                                       So, if you pass me by
                                                          Three hearts will break in two
Me, Myself, and I                                         Because me, myself, and I
Are all in love with you                                  Are all in love with you
We all think you’re wonderful                             <<Clarinet, trumpet, trombone, piano - music solo
We do                                                     >>
                                                          Me, Myself, and I
Me, Myself, and I                                         Are all in love with you
Have just one point of view                               We all think you’re wonderful
We’re convinced there’s no one else                       We do
Like you
                                                          Me, Myself, and I
It can’t be denied, dear                                  Have just one point of view
You brought the sun to us                                 We’re convinced there’s no one else
We’d be satisfied, dear                                   Like you



                                                                                                              22
It can’t be denied, dear                     So, if you pass me by
You brought the sun to us                    Three hearts will break in two
We’d be satisfied, dear                      Because me, myself, and I
If you’d belong to one of us                 Are all in love with you


Advanced Song Track 29
Time: 3:13
“Strange Fruit”

Southern trees
Bare a strange fruit                         Advanced Song Track 30
Blood on the leaves                          Time: 3:43
And blood at the roots                       “Autumn in New York”

Black bodies swinging                        Autumn in New York
In the southern breeze                       Why does it seem so inviting?
Strange fruit hanging                        Autumn in New York
From the poplar trees                        It smells the thrill of first nighting

Pastoral scene                               Glittering crowds
Of the gallant South                         And shimmering clouds
The bulging eyes                             And canyons of steel
And the twisted mouth                        They’re making me feel
                                             I’m home
Scent of magnolia
Sweet and fresh                              It’s autumn in New York
Then the sudden smell of                     That brings the promise of new love
Burning flesh                                Autumn in New York
                                             Is often mingled with pain
Here is a fruit
For the crows to pluck                       Dreamers with empty hands
For the rain to gather                       My sigh for exotic lands
For the wind to suck                         It’s autumn in New York
For the sun to rot                           It’s good to live it again
For the tree to drop
                                             Autumn in New York
Here is a strange                            The gleaming rooftops at sundown
And bitter crop                              Autumn in New York
                                             It lifts you up when you’re down

*Graphic material meant only for advanced,   Jane Ruway and Gady Vocet
mature students                              Who lunch at the Ritz
                                             Will tell you that it’s
                                             Divine!

                                             There’s autumn in New York


                                                                                      23
Transforms the slums into Mayfair                     On benches in Central Park
Autumn in New York                                    Greet autumn in New York
You’ll need no castle in Spain                        It’s good to live it,
                                                      Again!
Lovers that bless the dark


                                  Nature and the World

Beginner Poetry Track 31
Time: :38       “Mr. Grumpledump's Song” by Shel Silverstein
Everything's wrong, Days are too long,
Sunshine's too hot, Wind is too strong.
Clouds are too fluffy, Grass is too green,
Ground is too dusty, Sheets are too clean.
Stars are too twinkly, Moon is too high,
Water's too drippy, Sand is too dry.
Rocks are too heavy, Feathers too light,
Kids are too noisy, Shoes are too tight.
Folks are too happy, Singin' their songs.
Why can't they see it? Everything's wrong!


Beginner Poetry Track 32
Time: :26                “Body Language” by Shel Silverstein

Said my feet, “Hey lets go dancing.”
Said my tongue, “Lets have a snack.”
Said my brain, “Lets read a good book.”
Said my eyes, “Lets take a nap.”
Said my legs, “Lets just go walking.”
Said my back, “Lets take a ride.”
Said my seat, “Well I’ll just sit right here, till all of you decide.”

Beginner Poetry Track 33
Time: :40                “Rain” by Shel Silverstein

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
I step very softly,


                                                                                   24
I walk very slowly,
I can’t do a handstand-
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said-
I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.

Advanced Poetry Track 34
Time: 1:50               “To Autumn” by John Keats

Seasons of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel’ to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fumes of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all it twined flower;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with a patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.




                                                        25
Keats, John. “To Autumn” from Complete Poems and Selected Letters of John Keats. New York: The
Modern Library, 2001. 249-250.

                                                    proud,
                                                    and one day
                                                    along with the others
                                                    in large willow baskets,
                                                    it traveled
                                                    to the market
Advanced Poetry Track 35                            to realize its dream:
Time: 1:33                                          the army.
“Ode to An Artichoke”                               Amid the rows
by Pablo Neruda                                     never was it so military
                                                    as at the fair,
The tender-hearted                                  men
artichoke                                           among the vegetables
got dressed as a warrior,                           with their white shirts
erect, built                                        were
a little cupola,                                    marshals
stood                                               of the artichokes,
impermeable                                         the tight ranks,
under                                               the voices of command,
its scales,                                         and the detonation
around it                                           of a falling crate,
the crazy vegetables                                but
bristled,                                           then
grew                                                comes
astonishing tendrils,                               Maria
cattails, bulbs,                                    with her basket,
in the subsoil                                      picks
slept the carrot                                    an artichoke,
with its red whiskers,                              isn’t afraid of it,
the grapevine                                       examines it, holds it
dried the runners                                   to the light as if it were an egg,
through which it carries the wine,                  buys it,
the cabbage                                         mixes it up
devoted itself                                      in her bag
to trying on skirts                                 with a pair of shoes,
oregano                                             with a head of cabbage and a
to perfuming the world                              bottle of vinegar
and the gentle                                      until
artichoke                                           entering the kitchen
stood there in the garden,                          she submerges it in a pot.
dressed as a warrior,                               Thus ends
burnished                                           in peace
like a pomegranate,                                 the career
                                                    of the armored vegetable


                                                                                                 26
which is called artichoke,
then
scale by scale
we undress
its delight
and we eat
the peaceful flesh
of its green heart.
Neruda, Pablo. “Ode to the Artichoke” from Full
Woman, Fleshly Apple, Hot Moon. Trs. Stephen
Mitchell. New York: HarperPerennial, 1997. 9-
13




                                                  27
                                        People

Beginner Jazz Chant Track 36
Time: :38               Native American Chant

Mohawk, Navaho, Cherokee, Sioux.
      Mohawk, Navaho, Cherokee, Sioux.
Mohawk, Navaho, Cherokee, Sioux.
      Mohawk, Navaho, Cherokee, Sioux.
Kikapoo, Mohawk,
      Kikapoo, Mohawk.
Kikapoo, Mohawk,
      Kikapoo, Mohawk.
Mohawk, Navaho, Cherokee, Sioux.
      Mohawk, Navaho, Cherokee, Sioux.


Beginner Poetry Track 37
Time: :22                “No Difference” by Shel Silverstein
Small as a peanut, Big as a giant
We’re all the same size, When we turn off the light

Red, black or orange, Yellow or white
We all look the same, When we turn off the light

So maybe the way to make everything right
Is For God to just reach out and turn off the light


Beginner Text Track 38
Time 1:23                           Roald Dahl

    Roald Dahl is a famous British author best known for his children’s books; James
and the Giant Peach, Matilda, The BFG, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Dahl
was born on September 13th, 1916. His early life was very difficult, when he was only
three years old his sister died, and only a few months later his father also died. He
attended boarding school where he was shocked by the cruelty of the teachers to the
students. When he was twenty-three years old he joined the British Royal Air Force,
where he was badly injured in a crash landing. His first writings were about his
experiences in the military, but when he had children of his own he started making
up bedtime stories for them. He found that his children loved them, and that he
loved creating them. From then on he wrote and published many children’s stories.
These are filled with outrageous characters and there is always a small child who
must overcome the cruelties, and terrors of the adult world around him or her. His


                                                                                   28
stories are always hilarious and imaginative, so much so that many have been made
into movies. Dahl died on November 23rd 1990.
Comprehension Questions:
  1. When was Dahl born?
  2. What happened when Dahl was three years old?
  3. Name one of Dahl’s famous books.
  4. What happened to Dahl when he joined the British Royal Air Force?
  5. When did he begin writing his children’s stories?



Advanced Text Track 39
Time: 2:04                           Benjamin Franklin

       Benjamin Franklin was born on January 17th 1706 in Boston, Massachusetts.
He went to school until he was ten years old, and when he was 12 years old he
worked for his brother in the printing business. When he turned 17 Franklin moved
to Philadelphia where he published a weekly newspaper called the Pennsylvania
Gazette and Poor Richard’s, an almanac. The almanac was a calendar and weather
forecast for the year. It contained amusing stories, jokes, and proverbs. Franklin
published the famous proverb, “Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy,
wealthy, and wise.”
       Franklin started many public services in Philadelphia like the first volunteer
fire company, a hospital, a debate club, and the first library in America. Benjamin
Franklin was also an inventor. One of his first inventions was a set of paddles to help
him swim faster, and others include bifocals, the Franklin stove, and most notably
the lightning rod, which was a result of his experiments with electricity. Franklin
was also a great statesman. In 1764 he went to England and while there he helped to
represent the thirteen colonies in Parliament. Later he went to France to ask for help
in the American Revolution, and then he was sent back to England to negotiate a
peace treaty. Franklin helped to write the “Declaration of Independence” and the
“Articles of Confederation,” the first constitution of the United States. Benjamin
Franklin died at the age of 84 on April 17th, 1790, and an impressive public funeral
was held by the city.
       Vocabulary
   o   Printing Business- Company that prints books, newspapers, or magazines
   o   Bifocals- Glasses or Spectacles
   o   Lightning Rod- A metal rod attached to the highest point of a building to protect it
       from lightning
   o   Statesman- A politician who plays an important role in government and who is
       widely respected for integrity and impartial concern for the public good
   o   American Revolution- The war in which the American colonies won independence
       from Great Britain (1775-1783)
   o   Declaration of Independence- The document stating that the 13 American colonies
       would govern themselves (1776)
   o   Articles of Confederation- The first constitution (the document that states the basic
       laws or principles by which a country is governed) written by the United States
       (1776)




                                                                                               29
Advanced Text Track 40
Time: 3:01                  Martin Luther King Junior

       Martin Luther King Jr. was born in Atlanta Georgia, on January 15th, 1929.
King encountered racism, a bad opinion or feeling of hostility against people of
different races, at a very early age when the parents of two of his friends who were
white, ended the friendship because he was black. When he was eleven a white
woman hit him and called him “nigger” which is a derogatory word referring to
African Americans as slaves. That is why this is a bad word in the United States.
Racism was a very large problem in the United States at this time. African
Americans were not allowed to eat in certain places, go to school with white
children, live in certain places, or enjoy the same freedoms that white people had.
The Constitution of the United States ensures freedom for all people, but laws were
in place which segregated people of different races from white people. Racism and
segregation were what Martin Luther King Jr. wanted to change.
       In order to bring about this change King led non-violent protests and
boycotts. For one year he and his supporters refused to ride the buses because they
were not allowed to sit where they wanted. He also led strikes and sit-ins, where
people would stay in a restaurant where only white people were allowed until
policy was changed. For these demonstrations King was put in jail many times, and
threatened by people who did not agree with his beliefs.
       Martin Luther King Jr. was a leader of change, because of his work a law was
passed in 1964 that outlawed segregation in public places and guaranteed equal
voting rights for people of all different colors, religions, or nationalities. Because he
always advocated peaceful demonstrations King was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize
in 1964, the youngest person ever to receive it. On April 4th 1968 King was
assassinated. The entire country was shocked, and dismayed. He was buried in
Atlanta, Georgia under a monument with the final words from his most famous
speech on it, “Free at last, free at last thank God Almighty I’m free at last.” Today
children study his life in every school in America, and on the third Monday of every
January there is a national holiday to celebrate his life.
       Vocabulary
    o Racism- a bad opinion or feeling of hostility against people of different races
    o Nigger-a bad word in the United States referring to African Americans as
       slaves
    o Slavery- a system based on the enforced labor of other people, in place in the
       United States until the Civil War was fought in 1861-1865 between the North
       and the South, after which the slaves were freed
    o Segregation- the practice of keeping people apart who are different from each
       other, especially by enforcing the use of separate schools, transportation,
       housing and other places
    o Boycott- to refuse to deal with an organization or company as a protest
       against it
    o Sit-in- a form of protest in which people stay in a place and refuse to leave
       until their demands have been met


                                                                                      30
     o Assassinate- to kill somebody by a sudden violent attack




                               Life in the Community



Beginner Jazz Chant Track 41
Time: :38                          New Year’s Resolutions

I   promise   to be very, very good.
I   promise   to do the things I should.
I   promise   to make my bed each day.
I   promise   to put my things away.
I   promise   not to throw my socks on the floor.
I   promise   to put my socks in the drawer.
I   promise   to do my homework right.
I   promise   not to stay up late at night.
I   promise   to listen to my mom and dad.
I   promise   not to do anything bad.


Beginner Poetry Track 42
Time: :26          “Listen to the Mustn’ts” by Shel Silverstein
Listen to mustn’ts child, listen to the don’ts.
Listen to the shouldn’ts the impossibles’, the won’ts
Listen to the never haves. Then listen close to me,
Anything can happen child, anything can be.




                                                                  31
Intermediate Poetry Track 43
Time: 2:26          “Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage
                  Out” by Shel Silverstein
Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out!
She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,
Candy the yams and spice the hams,
And though her daddy would scream and shout,
She simply would not take the garbage out.
And so it piled up to the ceilings:
Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
Brown Bananas, rotten peas,
Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
It filled the can, it covered the floor,
It cracked the window and blocked the door
With bacon rinds and chicken bones,
Drippy ends of ice cream cones,
Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel,
Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,
Pizza crusts and withered greens,
Soggy beans and tangerines,
Crusts of black burned buttered toast,
Grisly bits of beefy roasts...
The garbage rolled down the hall,
It raised the roof, it broke the wall...
Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,
Globs of gooey bubble gum,
Cellophane from green baloney,
Rubbery blubbery macaroni,
Peanut butter, caked and dry,
Curdled milk and crusts of pie,
Moldy melons, dried-up mustard,
Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,
Cold French fries and rancid meat,
Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.
At last the garbage reached so high
That finally it touched the sky.
And all the neighbors moved away,
And none of her friends would come to play.
And finally Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout said,
"Ok, I'll take the garbage out!"
But then, of course, it was too late...
The garbage reached across the state,
From New York to the Golden Gate.
And there, in the garbage she did hate,
Poor Sarah met an awful fate,
That I cannot right now relate


                                                                         32
Because the hour is much too late.
But children, remember Sarah Stout
And always take the garbage out!


Beginner Text Track 44
Time: 3:14         The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein

       Once there was a tree and she loved a little boy. And every day the boy
would come and he would gather her leaves. . . and make them into crowns and
play king of the forest. He would climb up her trunk and swing from her branches
and eat apples. And they would play hide-and-go-seek. And when he was tired, he
would sleep in her shade. And the boy loved the tree very much. And the tree was
happy.
       But time went by. And the boy grew older. And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said, “Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.” “I am too big to climb and play,” said the boy. “I want to buy
things and have fun. I want some money. Can you give me some money?” “I’m
sorry,” said the tree, “but I have no money. I have only leaves and apples. Take my
apples, Boy and sell them in the city. Then you will have money and you will be
happy.”
       And so the boy climbed up the tree and gathered her apples and carried them
away. And the tree was happy. But the boy stayed away for a long time and the
tree was sad. And then one day the boy came back and three shook with joy and
said, “Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy.”
“I am too busy to climb trees,” said the boy. “I want a house to keep me warm,” he
said. “I want a wife and I want children, and so I need a house. Can you give me a
house?” “I have no house,” said the tree. “The forest is my house, but you may cut
off my branches and build a house. Then you will be happy.”
       And so the boy cut off her branches and carried them away to build his house.
And the tree was happy. But the boy stayed away for a long time. And when he
came back, the tree was so happy she could hardly speak. “Come, Boy” she
whispered, “come and play.” “I am too old and sad to play,” said the boy. I want a
boat that will take me far away from here. Can you give me a boat?” “Cut down my
trunk and make a boat,” said the tree. “Then you can sail away and be happy.”
       And so the boy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away. And
the tree was happy but not really. And after a long time, the boy came back again.
“I am sorry, Boy,” said the tree, “but I have nothing left to give you-my apples are
gone.” “My teeth are too weak for apples,” said the boy. “My branches are gone,”
said the tree. “You cannot swing on them.” “I am too tired to climb,” said the boy.
“My trunk is gone,” sighed the tree. “I wish that I could give you something but I
have nothing left. I am just an old stump. I am sorry. . .” “I don’t need very much
now,” said the boy, “just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired.” “Well,” said
the tree, straightening herself-up as much as she could, “well, an old stump is good




                                                                                    33
for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.” And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
                                        The End




                                                                                 34

				
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