The Little Robber Girl
The Boy Who Cried Wolf
AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES
Animal Sketches And Stories
Blondine Bonne Biche and Beau Minon
BRER RABBIT and HIS NEIGHBORS
CHINESE MOTHER-GOOSE RHYMES
FABLES FOR CHILDREN
FABLES FROM INDIA
FATHER PLAYS AND MOTHER PLAYS
FIRST STORIES FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
For Classes Ii. And Iii.
For Classes Iv. And V.
For Kindergarten And Class I.
FUN FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
Good Little Henry
JAPANESE AND OTHER ORIENTAL TALES]
Jean De La Fontaine
King Alexander's Adventures
KINGS AND WARRIORS
LAND AND WATER FAIRIES
Lessons From Nature
LITTLE STORIES that GROW BIG
MODERN FAIRY TALES
MOTHER GOOSE CONTINUED
MOTHER GOOSE JINGLES
MOTHER GOOSE SONGS AND STORIES
Myths And Legends
NEGLECT THE FIRE
ON POPULAR EDUCATION
PLACES AND FAMILIES
Poems Of Nature
RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER)
RHYMES CONCERNING "MOTHER"
RIDING SONGS for FATHER'S KNEE
ROMANCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES
SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY
Selections From The Bible
SLEEPY-TIME SONGS AND STORIES
Some Children's Poets
Songs Of Life
STORIES BY FAVORITE AMERICAN WRITERS
STORIES FOR CHILDREN
STORIES for LITTLE BOYS
STORIES FROM BOTANY
STORIES FROM GREAT BRITAIN
STORIES FROM IRELAND
STORIES FROM PHYSICS
STORIES FROM SCANDINAVIA
STORIES FROM ZOOLOGY
STORIES _for_ LITTLE GIRLS
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK
The King Of The Golden River; Or, The Black Brothers
The Little Grey Mouse
THE OLD FAIRY TALES
The Princess Rosette
THE THREE HERMITS
THE TWO OLD MEN
UNCLES AND AUNTS AND OTHER RELATIVES
VERSES ABOUT FAIRIES
WHAT MEN LIVE BY
WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS ALSO
The Canyon Flowers
from Good Stories For Great Holidays
- MAY DAY
BY RALPH CONNOR (ADAPTED)
At first there were no canyons, but only the broad, open prairie. One
day the Master of the Prairie, walking out over his great lawns, where
were only grasses, asked the Prairie: "Where are your flowers?"
And the Prairie said: "Master, I have no seeds."
Then he spoke to the birds, and they carried seeds of every kind of
flower and strewed them far and wide, and soon the Prairie bloomed with
crocuses and roses and buffalo beans and the yellow crowfoot and the
wild sunflowers and the red lilies, all the summer long.
Then the Master came and was well pleased; but he missed the flowers he
loved best of all, and he said to the Prairie: "Where are the clematis
and the columbine, the sweet violets and wind-flowers, and all the ferns
and flowering shrubs?"
And again the Prairie answered: "Master, I have no seeds."
And again he spoke to the birds and again they carried all the seeds and
strewed them far and wide.
But when next the Master came, he could not find the flowers he loved
best of all, and he said: "Where are those, my sweetest flowers?"
And the Prairie cried sorrowfully: "O Master, I cannot keep the flowers,
for the winds sweep fiercely, and the sun beats upon my breast, and they
wither up and fly away."
Then the Master spoke to the Lightning, and with one swift blow the
Lightning cleft the Prairie to the heart. And the Prairie rocked and
groaned in agony, and for many a day moaned bitterly over its black,
jagged, gaping wound.
But a little river poured its waters through the cleft, and carried down
deep, black mould, and once more the birds carried seeds and strewed
them in the canyon. And after a long time the rough rocks were decked
out with soft mosses and trailing vines, and all the nooks were hung
with clematis and columbine, and great elms lifted their huge tops high
up into the sunlight, and down about their feet clustered the low cedars
and balsams, and everywhere the violets and wind-flowers and maiden-hair
grew and bloomed till the canyon became the Master's place for rest and
peace and joy.
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