Here and Now Story Book - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Now many of these people's clothes had burned with their houses. The many children who had gone to bed before the fire began had nothing to wear except their nightclothes. The mother went to the store. That too was burned! But she found the storekeeper and said:--"Storekeeper, sell me some dresses for my children for their dresses have been burned and they have nothing to wear."
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"But, mother of the many children," the storekeeper replied, "first I must get me the dresses. For that I must send to the many-fingered factory in the middle of the city."
So he sent to the many-fingered factory in the middle of the great city and he said:--"Clothier, send me some dresses that I may sell to the mother; for her children's dresses have burned up and they have nothing to wear."
But the clothier in the many-fingered factory replied:--"First I must get me the cloth. For that I must send to the weaving mill. The weaving mill is in the hills where there is water to turn its wheels."
So the clothier sent to the weaving mill in the hills where there is water to turn its wheels and said:--"Weaver, send me the cloth that the many fingers at the factory may make dresses to send to the storekeeper in the small town to sell to the mother; for her children's dresses have burned up and they have nothing to wear."
But the weaver in the weaving mill in the hills sent back word:--"First I must get me the cotton. For that I must send to the cotton fields. The cotton fields are in the south where the land is hot and low."
So the weaver in the weaving mill in the hills sent to the cotton plantation, and he said:--"Planter, send me the cotton from the hot low lands that I may make cloth in the mill in the hills to send to the clothier in the many-fingered factory in the middle of the great city to be made into dresses to send to the storekeeper in the small town to sell to the mother; for her children's dresses have burned up and they have nothing to wear."
But the planter sent back word:--"First I must get the negroes to pick the cotton. For cotton must be picked in the hot sun and negroes are the only ones who can stand the sun."
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So the planter went to the negroes and he said:--"Pick me the cotton from the hot low lands that I may send it to the weaver in his mill in the hills that he may weave the cloth to send to the clothier in the many-fingered factory in the middle of the great city to make dresses to send to the storekeeper in the small town to sell to the mother; for her children's dresses have burned up and they have nothing to wear."
But the negroes answered:--"First de sun, he hab got to s.h.i.+ne and s.h.i.+ne and s.h.i.+ne! 'Cause de sun, he am de only one dat can make dem little seed bolls bust wide open!"
So the negroes sang to the sun:--"Big sun, so s.h.i.+ny hot! Is you gwine to s.h.i.+ne on dem cotton bolls so we can pick de cotton for de ma.s.sah so he can send it to de weaver in de weaving mills in de hills to weave into cloth so he can send it to de clothier in de many-fingered factory in de middle of de big city to make dresses to send to de storekeeper in de small town so he can sell it to de mammy; for de chillun's dresses hab gone and burned up and dey ain't got nothin' to wear!"
Now the sun heard the song of the negroes of the south. And he began to s.h.i.+ne. And he kept on s.h.i.+ning on the hot low lands. And when the cotton bolls on the hot low lands felt the sun s.h.i.+ne and s.h.i.+ne and s.h.i.+ne, they burst wide open. Then the negroes picked the cotton, the planter s.h.i.+pped it, the weaver wove it, the clothier made it into dresses, and the storekeeper sold them to the mother.
So at last the many children took off their nightclothes and put on their new dresses. And so they were all happy again!
OLD DAN GETS THE COAL
The occupations of the city horse are always absorbing to the school children. They have many tales about various "Old Dans" and their various trades. The docks are familiar to almost all the children,--even to the four-year-olds. This verse is meant to be read fast or slow according to whether or no the wagon is empty.
OLD DAN GETS THE COAL
Old Dan, he lives in a stable, he does, He sleeps in a stable stall.
Old Dan, he eats in the stable, he does, He eats the hay from the manger, he does, He pulls the hay And he chews the hay When he eats in his stable stall.
Old Dan, he leaves the stable, he does, He pulls the wagon behind.
Old Dan he goes trotting along, so he does, He trots with the wagon all empty, he does; The wagon, it clatters, The mud, it all spatters Old Dan with the wagon behind.
Old Dan, he trots to the dock, he does, He trots to the coal barge dock.
Old Dan, he stands by the barge, he does, He stands and the big crane creaks, it does.
Up! into the chute, Bang! out of the chute Comes the coal at the coal barge dock!
Old Dan, he pulls the load, he does, He pulls the heavy load.
Old Dan he pulls the coal, he does, He slowly pulls the heavy coal.
The wagon thumps, It b.u.mps, it clumps When old Dan pulls the load.
Old Dan, he stands by the house, he does, And the coal rattles out behind.
Old Dan stands still by the house, he does, He stands and the slippery coal, so it does Goes rattlety klang!
Zippy kabang!
As it slides from the wagon behind!
Old Dan, he then leaves the house, so he does, A-pulling the wagon behind.
Old Dan he goes trotting along, so he does, He trots with the wagon all empty, he does.
The wagon it clatters, The mud it all spatters Old Dan with the wagon behind.
Old Dan, comes home to his stable, he does, Home to his stable stall.
He finds the hay in the stable, he does, He eats the hay from the manger, he does, He pulls the hay, He chews the hay, Then he sleeps in his stable stall.
THE SUBWAY CAR
The relations.h.i.+p which this story aims to clarify is the social significance of the subway car--its construction and the need it answers to. Children have enjoyed the verse better, I think, than any other in the book.
THE SUBWAY CAR
The surface car is a poky car, It stops 'most every minute.
At every corner someone gets out And someone else gets in it.
It stops for a lady, an auto, a hoss, For any old thing that wants to cross, This poky old, stupid old, silly old, timid old, lumbering surface car.
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Up on high against the sky The elevated train goes by.
Above it soars, above it roars On level with the second floors Of dirty houses, dirty stores Who have to see, who have to hear This noisy ugly monster near.
And as it pa.s.ses hear it yell, "I'm the deafening, deadening, thunderous, hideous, competent, elegant el."
Under the ground like a mole in a hole, I tear through the white tiled tunnel, With my wire brush on the rail I rush From station to lighted station.
Levers pull, the doors fly ope', People press against the rope.
And some are stout and some are thin And some get out and some get in.
Again I go. Beginning slow I race, I chase at a terrible pace, I flash and I dash with never a crash, I hurry, I scurry with never a flurry.
I tear along, flare along, singing my lightning song, "I'm the rus.h.i.+ng, speeding, racing, fleeting, rapid subway car."