Easy English Texts

# 75 – An American singer-songwriter

Neil Leslie Diamond- is an American singer-songwriter, born in 1941, he is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and he received the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2018.

For his 16th birthday, he got as a gift, his first guitar and started to take lessons, and almost immediately began to write songs.

He said that his attraction to songwriting was the "first real interest" he had growing up, while also helped him release his youthful frustrations.

Neil Diamond also used his newly developing skill to write poetry, by writing poems for girls he was attracted to in school, he soon learned it often won their hearts. His male classmates took note and began asking him to write poems for them, which they would sing and use it with equal success.

In January 2018, Neil Diamond announced that he would stop touring because he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. Tour dates on the final leg of the Diamond's "50 Year Anniversary World Tour" in Australia and New Zealand were cancelled.

"Forever in Blue Jeans", co-written and jointly composed with his guitarist, Richard Bennett.

Money talks
But it don't sing and dance
And it don't walk
Long as I can have you
Here with me, I'd much rather be
Forever in blue jeans

Honey's sweet
But it ain't nothin' next to baby's treat (are not nothing)
And if you pardon me
I'd like to say ( I would like)
We do okay
Forever in blue jeans

Maybe tonight
Maybe tonight by the fire
All alone you and I

Nothing around
But the sound of my heart
And your sighs

Money talks
But it can't sing and dance
And it can't walk
And long as I can have you
Here with me, I'd much rather be
Forever in blue jeans, babe

And honey's sweet
But it ain't nothin' next to baby's treat
And if you pardon me, I'd like to say
We do okay
Forever in blue jeans

Maybe tonight
Maybe tonight by the fire
All alone you and I
Nothing around
But the sound of my heart
And your sighs

Money talks
But it don’t sing and dance
And it don't walk
Long as I can have you
Here with me
I'd much rather be
Forever in blue jeans

And if you pardon me

I'd like to say  ( I would like)

We do okay

Forever in blue jeans babe

long as I can have you
Here with me I'd much rather be
Forever in blue jeans, babe

As long as I can have you
Here with me I'd much rather be
Forever in blue jeans, babe

Marcus Tullius Cicero was born in 106 BC in a small municipality of Arpinum, 100 kilometers from Rome – He was assassinated in 43 BC, in Rome, at the age of 63. His mother was a housewife, and his father was a well-to-do member of the equestrian order, a wealthy landowner who possessed good connections in Rome.

Cicero was a Roman statesman, lawyer, scholar, and philosopher. His extensive writings include treatises on rhetoric, philosophy, and politics. He is considered one of Rome's greatest orators and prose stylists.

During his time in Roman history, "cultured" meant being able to speak both Latin and Greek. Cicero was therefore educated in the teachings of the ancient Greek philosophers, poets, and historians, he obtained much of his understanding of the theory and practice of rhetoric from the Greek poet Licinius Archias, and from the Greek rhetorician Apollonius Molon.

Cicero used his knowledge of Greek to translate many of the theoretical concepts of Greek philosophy into Latin, thus translating Greek philosophical works for a larger audience. It was precisely his broad education that tied him to the traditional Roman elite.

Cicero introduced into Latin, the arguments of the chief schools of Hellenistic philosophy, and created a Latin philosophical vocabulary with neologisms such as:  evidentia, humanitas, qualitas, quantitas, and essentia, distinguishing himself as a translator and philosopher.

Cicero has been traditionally considered the master of Latin prose.

Quintilian, a well know Roman educator declared, that Cicero was "not the name of a man, but of eloquence itself. The English word Ciceronian (means "eloquent") derive from his name. He is credited with transforming Latin from a modest utilitarian language into a versatile literary medium, capable of expressing abstract and complicated thoughts with clarity.

Though, he was an accomplished orator and successful lawyer, Cicero believed his political career was his most important achievement. Following Gaius Julius Caesar's death, Cicero became an enemy of Mark Antony, who view Cicero as an enemy of the state, consequently, Cicero was executed.

Today Cicero is appreciated primarily for his humanism and philosophical and political writings. His voluminous correspondence, much of it addressed to his friend Atticus, this correspondence has been especially influential, for introducing the art of refined letter writing, to the European culture.

According to John William Mackail, the reformer of the British education system "Cicero's unique and imperishable glory is that he created the language of the civilized world and used that language to create a style, which nineteen centuries have not replaced, and in some respects have hardly altered.

PARKISONS  DISEASE

Parkinson’s is a progressive, degenerative disease that affects nervous system function, according to the Mayo Clinic. The nerve cells in the brain, called neurons, progressively malfunction, or die off. This, in turn, prevents the brain from producing enough dopamine, a chemical that acts as a messenger for brain signal that control movement, coordination and other key functions.

Parkinson’s is most seen in adults older than 50 and is more frequent in men than women.

Doctors aren’t totally sure why people get Parkinson’s, there is evidence, that genetics may play a role in some cases, other risk factors, may include repeated head trauma and exposure to certain chemicals or heavy metals.

Parkinson’s has four main symptoms: Tremor in hands, arms, legs, jaw, or head.

Muscle stiffness, where muscle remains contracted for a long time.

Slowness of movement.

Impaired balance and coordination, sometimes leading to falls.

People with Parkinson's disease often develop a parkinsonian gait that includes a tendency to lean forward; take small quick steps; and reduce swinging of their arms. They also may have trouble initiating or continuing movement.

Several disorders can cause symptoms similar to those of Parkinson’s disease. People with Parkinson’s-like symptoms that result from other causes, such as multiple system atrophy and dementia, are sometimes said to have parkinsonism.

While these disorders initially may be misdiagnosed as Parkinson’s, certain medical tests, as well as response to drug treatment, may help to better evaluate the cause.

Many other diseases have similar features but require different treatments, so it is important to get an accurate diagnosis as soon as possible.

There is currently no cure for Parkinson’s, although medications that mimic or enhance the effects of dopamine, in conjunction with physical therapy, diet and exercise intervention, may help reduce symptoms, according to the Mayo Clinic.

In advanced cases, doctors may also implant signal-carrying electrical sensors into the brain in hopes of mitigating some symptoms.

Though it can’t be cured, Parkinson’s itself is not fatal, the University of Maryland Medical Center notes. That said, complications from the disease — including decreased motor function and impaired swallowing — can shorten a person’s lifespan.

Unlike other religions, Hinduism has no one founder but is instead a fusion of various beliefs.

It is believed that Hinduism started between 2300 B.C. and 1500 B.C., but many Hindus argue that their faith is timeless and has always existed.

Hinduism accepts many different religious ideas, most of the people that follow Hinduism believe that there are many paths to reach their god; even though, they worship a single deity known as Brahman, and have many sects, they still respect other gods and goddesses.

The Hindus code of living emphasizes good conduct and morality. They believe in the continuous cycle of life, death, (reincarnation) and in the universal law of cause and effect (karma), and that all living creatures have a soul, and all these souls, are all part of the supreme soul. The goal is to end the cycle of rebirths to become part of the absolute soul.

Food is an important part of life for Hindus. they consider the cow to be a sacred animal, most of them do not eat beef or pork, many are vegetarians.

The Hindu ancient texts and Vedas are full of amazing stories about different gods, their extraordinary powers, and battles that took place a millennia ago.

It describes gods who fight against evil forces on flying crafts called VIMANAS.

These Vimanas are consistently described as weapons of war. They are flying machines, some Vimanas were made to travel locally from one place to the other, to different countries, some flying machines were used to travel to various planets. The text Describes that, there were four types of Vimanas some were saucer-shaped, others were cylinder-shaped and had the ability to maneuver both under water and in outer space.

These Vimanas were non-combustible, unbreakable, very effective on the offensive and were also invisible to the enemies. They were, able to render enemies, into a suspended animation state, and cause widespread destruction.

The Mahabharata, a Hindu epic, provides even more detail on Vimanas. It says, “The ancient Indian king Salva acquired the flying machine from Maya Danava, who was a resident of a planetary system named Taltala”. The Vimana flew in the sky, rested on the hill, and floated on the water.

There are drawing instructions and detail as to the metal construction of Vimanas, their use of mirrors, and lenses, and the defenses offered by several Vimanas types.

The existence of this text was revealed by G.R. Josyer the founder of the International Academy of Sanskrit Research who said that Pandit Subbaraya Shastry had dictated it to him from 1918 to 1923.

The epic Mahabharata and the Bhagavata Purana is written in Sanskrit, one of the oldest survived languages in the world. It also known to contain scientific information about embryology

A long, long time ago

I can still remember how that music used to make me smile

And I knew if I had my chance that I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

But February made me shiver

With every paper I'd deliver

Bad news on the doorstep

I couldn't take one more step

I can't remember if I cried

When I read about his widowed bride

But something touched me deep inside

The day the music died

So bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Singin' "This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die"

Did you write the book of love, and do you have faith in God above

If the Bible tells you so?

Have  you believe in rock and roll, can music save your mortal soul

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him

'Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym

You both kicked off your shoes

Man, I dig those rhythm and blues

I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck (a wild horse that is vicious and difficult or impossible to break in)

With a pink carnation and a pickup truck

But I knew I was out of luck

The day the music died

I started singin'

Now for ten years we've been on our own, and moss grows fat on a rollin' stone

But that's not how it used to be

When the jester sang for the king and queen in a coat HE borrowed from James Dean

 (The Jesters were an early 1960s rock & roll band and James Dean was a famous actor )

And a voice that came from you and me

Oh, and while the king was looking down

The jester stole his thorny crown

The courtroom was adjourned

No verdict was returned

And while Lenin read a book on Marx

A quartet practiced in the park

And we sang dirges in the dark

The day the music died We were singin' 

Helter skelter in a summer swelter, the birds flew off with a fallout shelter

Eight miles high and falling fast

It landed foul on the grass, the players tried for a forward pass

With the jester on the sidelines in a cast

Now the halftime air was sweet perfume

While the sergeants played a marching tune

We all got up to dance

Oh, but we never got the chance

'Cause the players tried to take the field

The marching band refused to yield

Do you recall what was revealed

The day the music died?

We started singin'

Oh, and there we were all in one place, a generation lost in space

With no time left to start again

So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack Flash sat on a candlestick

'Cause fire is the devil's only friend

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage

My hands were clenched in fists of rage

No angel born in Hell

Could break that Satan's spell

And as the flames climbed high into the night

To light the sacrificial rite

I saw Satan laughing with delight

The day the music died

He was  singin'

I met a girl who sang the blues, and I asked her for some happy news

But she just smiled and turned away

I went down to the sacred store where I'd heard the music years before

But the man there said the music wouldn't play

And in the streets, the children screamed

The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed

But not a word was spoken

The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most

The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost

They caught the last train for the coast

The day the music died and

They were singin' bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

Don McLean was Born October 2, 1945. He is an American singer-songwriter, best known for his 1971 hit song "American Pie"

McLean's original recording was selected for preservation in the National Recording Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or artistically significant."

To mark the 50th anniversary of the song, McLean is scheduled to perform a 35-date tour through Europe, starting in Wales and ending in Austria, in 2022.

Don McLean said that he wrote the refrain, of American Pie and 3 months later, he wrote the rest of the song in1 hour.

"The day the music died" refers to the plane crash in 1959 in Iowa during a snowstorm, that killed early rock and roll star Buddy Holly, who was McLean’s childhood music hero.

The song American Pie - reflects the deep cultural changes and profound disillusionment and loss of innocence of his entire generation.

“So bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry”

(Chevy refers to a car Chevrolet popular at the time - a levee is a quay or a dike an embankment along a river to control floods, in any case, a place where you'd expect to find water.)

In 1971 Don McLean released "Vincent” which is a tribute to Vincent van Gogh. It is often erroneously titled after its opening refrain, "Starry, Starry Night", a reference to Van Gogh's 1889 painting.

McLean said the following about the genesis of the song:

"In the autumn of 1970 I had a job singing in the school system, playing my guitar in classrooms. I was sitting on the veranda one morning, reading a biography of Van Gogh, and suddenly I knew I had to write a song arguing that he wasn't crazy. He had an illness and so did his brother Theo. This makes it different, in my mind, to the garden variety of 'crazy' – because he was rejected by a woman [as was commonly thought]. So, I sat down with a print of Starry Night and wrote the lyrics out on a paper bag."

When she got back to the town, she came to her mother-in-law, who asked, “How is it you my daughter ?” She told her all that the man had done for her; and she added, “He gave me these six measures of barley, saying to me, “Do not go back to your mother-in-law empty handed.” And Naomi said stay here, daughter, till you learn how the matter turns out. For the men will not rest but will settle the matter today.”

Meanwhile, Boaz  had gone to the gate and sat down there. And now the redeemer whom Boaz had mentioned passed by. He called, “Come over and sit down here, so-and-so!” And he came over and sat down. Then Boaz took 10 elders of the town and said,” Be seated here”: and they sat down.

He said to the redeemer, “Naomi , now  return from the country of Moab, must sell the piece of land which belonged to our kinsman Elimelech. I thought I should disclose the matter to you and say: Acquire it in the presence of those seated here and in the presence of the elders of my people. If you are willing to redeem it, redeem! But if you will not redeem, tell me, that I may know. For there is no one to redeem but you, and I come after you.” “ I am willing to redeem it,” He replied. Boaz continued, “When you acquired the property from Naomi and from Ruth  the Moabite, you must also acquire the wife of the deceased ,so as to perpetuate the name of the deceased upon his state.” The redeemer reply, “Then I cannot redeem it for myself, lest I impair my own estate. You take over my right of redemption for I am unable to exercise it.”

Now this was formally done in Israel in cases of redemption for exchange: to validate any transaction, one man would take off his sandals and hand it to the other. Such as the practice in Israel. So when the redeemer said to Boaz, “Acquire for yourself, he drew off his sandal. And Boaz said to the elders and to the rest of the people, you are you witness today that I am acquiring from Naomi  all that belong to Elimelech and all that belong to Chilion and Mahlon and I am also Acquiring Ruth the Moabite, the wife of Mahlon, as my wife, so as to perpetuate the name of the deceased upon his estate, that the name of the deceased may not disappear from among his kinsmen and from the gate of his hometown.  you are witness today.”

All the people at the gate and the elders answered, “We are. May the Lord make the woman who is coming into your house like Rachel and Leah, both of whom built up the House of Israel !prosper in Bethlehem and perpetuate your name in Bethlehem! And may your house be like the House of Perez whom Tamar bore to Judah- through the offspring which the Lord will give you by this young woman.”

So Boaz married Ruth; she became his wife, and he cohabitate with her the Lord let her.  The Lord let her conceive, and she bore a son .And the women said to Naomi, “Blessed be the Lord, who has not withheld a redeemer from you today ! May his name be perpetuated in Israel! He will renew your life and sustain your old age; for his born of your daughter-in-law, who loves you and is better to you than seven sons.”

Naomi took the child and held it to her bosom. She became its foster mother, and the women neighbors gave him a name, saying, “A son is born to Naomi!” they named him Obed; he was the father of Jesse, father of David.

This is the line of Perez: Perez begot Hezron,  Hezron bigot Ram, Ram bigot Amminadab, Amminadab bigot Nahshon, Nahshon bigot Salmon, Salmon begot Boaz, Boaz Begot Obed, Obed begot Jesse, Jesse begot David

Ruth is the great grandmother of the king David of Israel.

She gleaned in the field until evening. Then she beat out what she had gleaned and carry it back with her to the town. When her mother-in-law saw what she had gleaned, and when she also took out and gave her what she had left over after eating her fill, her mother-in-law asked her, “Where did you glean today? where did you work? blessed be he who took such generous notice of you!” So, she told her mother-in-law whom she had worked with, saying, “The name of the man with whom I work today is Boaz.”

Naomi said to her daughter-in-law, “Blessed be the Lord, who has not failed in His kindness to the living or to the dead! “ For,  Naomi explain to her daughter-in-law, “ the man is related to us; he is one of our redeeming kinsman.(responsible for the well-being of the family) Ruth the Moabite said, he even told me, “stay close by my workers until all my harvest is finished.” And Naomi answered her daughter-in-law Ruth, “It is best, daughter, that you go out with his girls, and not be annoyed in some other field.” So she stayed close to the maidservants of Boaz, and Gleaned until the barley harvest and the wheat harvest were finished. Then she stayed at home with her mother-in-law.

Naomi her mother-in-law, said to her, “Daughter, I must seek a home for you, where you may be happy. Now there is our kinsman Boaz, whose girls you were close to. He will be winnowing barley (blowing air through grain to remove the husk) on the threshing floor ( it is a flat surface or floor where the farmer separated the grain) tonight. So bathe anoint yourself, dress up, and go down to the threshing floor. But do not disclose yourself to the man until he has finished eating and drinking. When he lies down, note the place where he lies down, and go over and uncover his feet and lie down. He will tell you what you are to do. She replied, “I will do everything you tell me.”

She went down to the threshing floor and did just as her mother-in- law had instructed her. Boaz ate, drank, and in a cheerful mood went to lie down besides the grain pile. Then she went over stealthily and uncovered his feet and laid down. In the middle of the night, the man gave a start and put back - there was a woman line on his feet!

Who are you? he asked. and she replied, “I am your handmaid Ruth” Spread your robe over your handmade, for your redeeming kinsman.”

He exclaimed, “Be blessed of the Lord, daughter! Your latest deed of loyalty is greater than the first, in that you have not turned to younger men, whether poor or rich. And now, daughter, have no fear. I will do in your behalf whatever you ask, for all the elders off my town.

Know what a fine woman you are. but while it is true, I am a redeeming kinsman, there is another redeemer closer than I. Stay for the night then in the morning, if he will act as a redeemer, good! let him redeem. but if he does not want to act as redeemer for you, I will do myself, as the Lord lives! lie down until morning.”

So, she lay at his feet until dawn. She rose before one person could distinguish another from the thought, “Let it not be known that the woman come to the threshing floor.” And he said, “Hold out the shawl you are wearing.” she held it while he measured out six measures of barley and he put it on her back.

When they arrived in Bethlehem, the whole city buzzed with excitement over them. The women said, “can this be Naomi?” “Do not call me Naomi,” she replied. call me Mara, (Mara means bitter) for GOD made my life very bitter. I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. How can you call me Naomi, when the Lord has dealt harshly with me, when God has brought misfortune upon me!” Thus, Naomi returns from the country of Moab; she returned with her daughter-in-law Ruth the Moabite. they arrived in Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest.

Now Naomi had a kinsman on her husband's side, a man of substance, of the family of Elimelech, His name was Boaz.

Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi, “I would like to go to the fields and Glean(gather leftover grain after harvest) among the ears of grain, behind someone who may show me kindness.” “Yes, daughter, go,” she replied, and off she went. she came and gleaned in a field, behind the reapers;( are people who harvest a crop) and, as luck would have it, it was the piece of land belong to Boaz, who was of Elimelech’s family.

Presently Boaz arrived from Bethlehem. He greeted the reapers, “The Lord be with you!” And they responded “The Lord bless you!” Boaz said to the servant who was in charge of the reapers, “Whose girl is that?” The servant in charge of the reapers replied, “She is a Moabite girl who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. She said, “please let me glean and gather among the sheaves ( are a bundle of grain stalks laid lengthwise and tied together after reaping)  behind the reapers.” she has been on her feet since she came this morning “she has rested but little in the hut.”

Boaz said to Ruth, “Listen to me, daughter. Don't go to Glean in another field. Don't go elsewhere but stay here close to my girls. keep your eyes on the field they are ripping and follow them. I have ordered the men not to molest you. And when you are thirsty, go to the jars and drink some of the water that the men have drawn.”

She prostrated herself with her face to the ground, and said to him, “why are you so kind as to single me out, when I am a foreigner?”

Boaz said in reply, “I have been told of all that you did for your mother-in-law after the death of your husband, how you left your father and mother and the land of your birth and came to a people you had to know before. May the Lord reward your deeds, may you have a full recompense from the Lord the God of Israel, under whose wings you have sought refuge!”

She answered, “You are most kind, my Lord, to comfort me and to speak gently to your maidservant -though I am not so much as one of your maidservants.”

At mealtime, Boaz said to her, “Come over here and partake of the meal, and dip your morsel (small piece of food) in the vinegar. “So, she sat down beside the reapers. He handed her roasted grain, and she ate her fill and had some leftover.

When she got up again to glean, Boaz gave order to his workers, “You are not only to let her glean among the sheaves, without interference, but you must also pull some stalks out of the heaps end leave then for her to glean, and not scold her.”

# 66- The story of Ruth part 1 (Old Testament)

Ruth is a story from the Old Testament

In the days when the Chieftains ruled . Chieftains ( were the heads of the tribes of an area  in Bethlehem - called Judah – Judah is the 4TH son of the patriarch Jacob and his wife Leah)

There was a famine in the land and a man of Bethlehem in Judah with his wife and two sons went to reside in the country of Moab. (Moab was an ancient city in Jordan near by the dead sea; the Moabites believed in many different Gods) the man's name was Elimelech his wife's name was Naomi and his two sons were named Mahlon and Chilion.

They came to the country of Moab and remain there.

Elimelech Naomi’s husband died, and she was left with her two sons. Her sons married Moabite women, one name Orpah and the other Ruth, and they lived there for about 10 years.

Then Mahlon and Chilion also died; so the woman was left without her two sons and without her husband.

she started out with her daughters-in-law to return from the country of Moab; for in the country of Moab she had heard that the Lord had taken note of his people and given them food. Accompanied by her two daughters-in-law she left the place

where she had been living; and they set out on the road back to the land of Judah.

But Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “turn back, each of you to her mother ‘s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you as you, have dealt with the dead and me! May the Lord grant that each of you find security in the House of a husband!” And she kissed them farewell. They broke into weeping and said to her, “No we will return with you to your people”

But Naomi replied, “Turn back, my daughters! Why should you go with me? Have I any more sons in my body who might be husbands for you? Turn back, my daughters, for I am too old to be married. Even if I thought there was hope for me, even if I married tonight and I also was bore sons, should you wait for them to grow up? Should you on their account debar yourselves from marriages? Oh no, my daughters! my Lot is far more bitter than yours, for the hand of the Lord has struck out against me.”

They broke into weeping again, and Orpah kissed her mother-in-law farewell. But Ruth clung to her. So Naomi said,” See, your sister- in-law has returned do her people and her gods. Go follow your sister-in-law”. But Ruth replied, “Do not urge me to leave you, to turn back and not follow you. For wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus, end more may the Lord to do me if anything but death parts me from you”. when Naomi saw how the determined she was to go with her, she ceased to argue with her; and the two went on until they reach Bethlehem.

Thomas Aquinas was born in 1225 and died in 1274, he was canonized by Pope John XXII in 1323 and became Saint Thomas Aquinas.

Saint Thomas was from Roccasecca near Naples-Italy. He was the seventh and youngest child of a wealth and very influential family.

Against the wishes of his family at the age of nineteen, Thomas decided to join the Dominican Order, which had been founded only about 30 years earlier: the members of the new order were inspired to develop a "mixed" spirituality. The order was both active in preaching, and contemplative in study, prayer, and meditation.

Thomas Aquinas attends the university of Naples and there he was introduced to the teachings of Aristotle, Averroes, and Maimonides.

In 1252 at the College of St. James in Paris, Thomas started a teaching career to which was to involve him in every great intellectual conflict of the time. Beginning as a bachelor, he lectured upon the Scriptures and the basic theological textbook of the day. He enjoys great popularity as a teacher. One of his students later recorded that: Thomas introduced new articles into his lectures, founded a new and clear method of scientific investigation and synthesis, and developed new proofs in his argumentation; although the university required that a master in theology be at least thirty-four years old, Thomas, after a papal dispensation, was given his degree in 1256, when little more than thirty-one years old, and he was  appointed to fill one of the two chairs allowed to Dominicans at the university.

In1272 Thomas was recalled to Naples by his superiors to reorganize all the theological courses of his order. There at the university he lectures on the Psalms, and St. Paul, commented on Aristotle’s, and worked on the third part of the Summa.

(Summa Theologica) or Summary of Theology, often referred to simply as the Summa, which is the best-known work of Saint Thomas Aquinas, with more than 3 thousand pages It is a compendium of all the main theological teachings of the Catholic Church.

Today the Summa is used as a guide for theology students, including seminarians and priests. The Summa shows the reasoning for almost all points of Christian theology topics with a cycle that start with: God, Creation, Man, Man's purpose, Christ, the Sacraments, and back to God.

From the Summa first part II - the existence of God. Thomas Aquinas refers to Augustine who said: “since God is the highest good, He would not allow any evil to exist in His works, unless His omnipotence and goodness were such as to bring good even out of evil.”  St. Thomas replies this is part of the infinity goodness of God, that He should allow evil to exist and out of it produce good.

Aquinas five statements about the divine qualities:

God is simple, without composition of parts, such as body and soul, or matter and form.

God is perfect, lacking nothing. That is, God is distinguished from other beings on account of God's complete actuality.

God is infinite. That is, God is not finite in the ways that created beings are physically, intellectually, and emotionally limited. This infinity is to be distinguished from infinity of size and infinity of number.

God is immutable, incapable of change on the levels of God's essence and character.

God is one, without diversification within God's self. The unity of God is such that God's essence is the same as God's existence.

Saint Thomas Aquinas, Averroes, and Maimonides are among the greatest religious philosophers of the Middle Ages.

Jack London

Jack London is known as a writer, journalist and a proud socialist.

He was born - John Griffith Chaney, on January 12, 1876 in San Francisco California, in the United States. He died November 22 1916, in Glen Ellen, California.

He grew up in a working-class area in the city of Oakland, California. While very young, he observed the inequalities in American society and the struggles of the poor.

He was internationally famous for his books -The Call of the Wild (1903), The Sea Wolf (1904) and other literary and journalistic accomplishments. He wrote passionately about the great questions of life and death and the struggle to survive with dignity and integrity.

His stories of high adventure were based on his own experiences at sea, in the Yukon Territory, and in the fields and factories of California. His writings appealed to millions worldwide.

As a schoolboy, London often studied at Heinold's First and Last Chance Saloon, which was a port-side bar in  the city of Oakland, California. At 17, he confessed to the bar's owner, John Heinold, his desire to attend university and pursue a career as a writer. Heinold lent London tuition money to attend college.

London desperately wanted to attend the University of California in Berkeley. In 1896, after a summer of intense studying to pass certification exams, he was admitted. Financial circumstances forced him to leave in 1897, and he never graduated.

While at Berkeley, London continued to study and spend time at Heinold's saloon, where he was introduced to the sailors and adventurers who would influence his writings.

Today in the year of 2021, tourists enjoy Jack London Square, which is an entertainment and business destination on the waterfront of Oakland, California,named after Jack London, and owned by the Port of Oakland, it is the home of stores, restaurants, hotels, an Amtrak station, a San Francisco Bay Ferry dock, and the historic Heinold's First and Last Chance Saloon.

Paul Frederic Simon was born on October 13, 1941.He is a Singer-songwriter and an iconic figure in American rock music. As a singer-songwriter known for his cerebral composition, it is not a surprise that Simon's mother, Belle, was an English teacher and his father, Louis, was both a teacher and a bandleader.

Paul Simon is also known for his work as part of the duo Simon & Garfunkel, and for his long-running success as a solo artist.

In 1986, he released Graceland, an album inspired by South African township music, which sold 14 million copies worldwide and remains his most popular solo work.

in 2006, Paul Simon was selected as one of the "100 People Who Shaped the World" by Time magazine.

Composition from the album Graceland

      You can call me Al

A man walks down the street  -- 

He says, "Why am I soft in the middle, now? - -

Why am I soft in the middle? -- 

The rest of my life is so hard --

I need a photo-opportunity --

I want a shot at redemption --

Don't want to end up a cartoon --

In a cartoon graveyard --

Bonedigger, Bonedigger Dogs in the moonlight --

Far away in my well-lit door --

Mr. Beerbelly,  Beerbelly Get these mutts away from me --

You know, I don't find this stuff amusing anymore --

If you'll be my bodyguard -- 

I can be your long lost pal --

I can call you Betty --

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me A --l

A man walks down the street --

He says, "Why am I short of attention? --

Got a short little span of attention --

And, whoa, my nights are so long --

Where's my wife and family? --

What if I die here? --

Who'll be my role model --

Now that my role model is gone, gone?  --

He ducked back down the alley --

With some roly-poly little bat-faced girl --

All along, along --

There were incidents and accidents --

There were hints and allegations --

If you'll be my bodyguard --

I can be your long lost pal --

I can call you Betty --

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al --

A man walks down the street --

It's a street in a strange world --

Maybe it's the third world --

Maybe it's his first time around --

Doesn't speak the language --

He holds no currency --

He is a foreign man --

He is surrounded by the sound, the sound --

Cattle in the marketplace --

Scatterlings and orphanages --

He looks around, around --

He sees angels in the architecture --

Spinning in infinity --

He says, "Amen and Hallelujah!" --

If you'll be my bodyguard --

I can be your long lost pal --

I can call you Betty --

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al --

call me Al --

Na na na na, na na na na  --

Na na na na, na na na-na na-na  --

Na na na na, na-na na-na na na --

Na na na na, na na na na --

If you'll be my bodyguard --

bodyguard Betty --

Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns

Most English-speakers on New Year’s Eve sing a song called "Auld Lang Syne" which is an old Scottish song that was first published by the poet Robert Burns in 1796.

Burns transcribed it (and made some refinements to the lyrics) after he heard it sung by an old man in Scotland, Burns’ homeland.

It is often said that "Auld Lang Syne" is one of the most popular songs that nobody knows the lyrics to. "Auld Lang Syne" literally translates as "old long since" and means "times gone by."

The song asks whether old friends and times will be forgotten and promises to remember people of the past with fondness - "For auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet."

The lesser-known verses written in Scots language, continue this theme, lamenting how friends who once used to

(run about the hills and pulled up daisies)

(paddled in the stream from morning to dusk)

(have become divided by time, distance, and seas)

(Yet there is always time for old friends to get together, if not in person then in memory and have a “good-will drink”)

But it was Guy Lombardo, and not Robert Burns, who popularized the song and turned it into a New Year's tradition. Lombardo first heard "Auld Lang Syne" in his hometown, Ontario, where it was sung by Scottish immigrants.

The famous dance band, Guy Lombardo and His Royal Canadians, played the song at midnight in 1929 in New York City at a New Year's eve party, the song became a New Year's tradition since .

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And days of auld lang syne

For auld lang syne my dear

For auld lang syne

We will take a cup of kindness yet

For auld lang syne

We two have run about the hills

And pulled the daisies fine

But we ‘ve wandered many a weary foot

Since auld lang syne

The Twelve Days of Christmas is a song that was written during the Puritan Movement in England. During the years 1558-1829 Catholics were not allowed to practice their faith. The song has two meanings. The first is the literal meaning of each verse of the song and the second is the subtle translation that was known to those of the Catholic faith.

The Twelve Days of Christmas start on Christmas Day, December 25th. The twelfth day ends at midnight on January 5th of each year. The Holy Day of the Epiphany - which means an illuminating discovery, or a realization) is followed on January 6. All Christmas decorations should be left up until the Epiphany.

1. The first day of Christmas - My True Love, the Partridge in a Pear Tree (Jesus Christ is my true love). In ancient times a partridge was often used as symbol of a divine and sacred king.

2. The second day of Christmas - Two turtle doves are the Old and New Testaments of the Bible. The doves symbolize peace.

3. The third day of Christmas - The three French Hens are Faith, Hope and Love. These are the three gifts of the Holy Spirit.

4. The fourth day of Christmas - The four calling birds are the four Gospels - Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

5. The fifth day of Christmas - The five golden rings describe the first five books of the Old Testament.

6. The sixth day of Christmas - The six geese a laying stood for the first six days of creation.

7. The seventh day of Christmas - The seven swans a swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit. These are Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership and Mercy.

8. The eighth day of Christmas - The eight maids a milking are the eight Beatitudes. These are Jesus' teachings of happiness.

9. The ninth day of Christmas - Nine ladies dancing are the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit. These are Charity, Joy, Peace, Patience, Goodness, Mildness, Fidelity, Modesty and Continency.

10. The tenth day of Christmas - The ten lords a leaping are the Ten Commandments.

11. The eleventh day of Christmas - The eleven pipers piping represent the eleven faithful apostles.

12. The twelfth day of Christmas - The twelve drummers drumming represent the twelve points of belief in The Apostles' Creed.

Musical adaptation les Meserables by Vitor Hugo

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING

Do you hear the people sing

Sing the song of angry men

It is the music of a people

Who will not be slaves again!

When the beating of your heart

Echoes the beating of the drums

There is a life about to start

When tomorrow comes!

Will you join in our crusade?

Who will be strong and stand with me?

Beyond the barricade

Is there a world you long to see?

Then join in the fight

That will give you the right

To be free!

Do you hear the people sing

Sing the song of angry men

It is the music of a people

Who will not be slaves again!

When the beating of your heart

Echoes the beating of the drums

There is a life about to start

When tomorrow comes!

Will you give all you can give

So that our banner may advance?

Some will fall and some will live,

Will you stand up and take your chances?

The blood of the martyrs

Will water the meadows of France

Do you hear the people sing

Sing the song of angry men

It is the music of a people

Who will not be slaves again!

When the beating of your heart

Echoes the beating of the drums

There is a life about to start

When tomorrow comes!

COSETTE-  becomes a beautiful young woman and she meets Marius they  fall in love , however, Eponine, who is one of the daughters of the Thernardiers , also loves Marius, in the end Marius stay with Cosette.

[Cosette thinks]

How strange

This feeling that my life's begun at last.-This change,-Can people really fall in love so fast?-What's the matter with you, Cosette?-Have you been too much on your own?-So many things unclear,-So many things unknown.-in my life-There are so many questions and answers-That somehow seem wrong-In my life-There are times when I catch in the silence-The sigh of a faraway song-And it sings-Of a world that I long to see-Out of reach,-Just a whisper away-Waiting for me

Does he know I'm alive?

Do I know if he's real?

Did he see what I saw

Does he feel what I feel?

In my life I'm no longer alone

Now that love in my life is so near

Find me now, find me here.

[Marius:]
In my life she has burst like the music of angels-he light of the sun-And my life seems to stop-As if something is over-And something has scarcely begun-Eponine, you're the friend who has brought me here-Thanks to you I am one with the gods-And Heaven is near-And I soar through world that is new that is free!

[Eponine:]
Every word that he says is a dagger in me!-In my life-There's been no one like him anywhere-Anywhere, where he is...-If he asked... I'd be his

[Marius & Eponine:]
In my life-There is someone who touches my life

[Marius:]
Waiting near - [Eponine:] -Waiting here

Marius:] A heart full of love-A heart full of song-I'm doing everything all wrong-Oh god, for shame-I do not even know your name-Dear Mad'moiselle-Won't you say?-Will you tell?

[Cosette:] -A heart full of love-No fear, no regret -[Marius:] My name is Marius Pontmercy [Cosette:] And mine's Cosette [Marius:] Cosette, I don't know what to say!

[Cosette:] Then make no sound! [Marius:] I am lost [Cosette:] I am found [Marius:] A heart full of light [Cosette:] A night bright as day [Marius:] And you must never go away -Cosette, Cosette! [Cosette:] This is a chain we'll never break [Marius:] Do I dream? [Cosette:] I'm awake [Marius:] A heart full of love

[Eponine:] He was never mine to lose [Marius and Cosette:] A heart full of you

[Eponine:] Why regret what could not be? [Marius:] A single look and then I knew [Eponine:] These are words he'll never say-Not to me-Not to me-Not for me [Cosette:] I knew it too [Marius:] From today [Cosette:] Every day

[Cosette & Marius (Eponine):]

And it isn't a dream (his heart full of love)- Not a dream (he will never) -After all! (feel this way)

Lea Salonga, Judy Kuhn, and Michael Ball sing In My Life/A Heart Full of Love at the 10th anniversary concert of Les Miz at the Royal Albert Hall in London.

THE THÉNARDIERS

THE THÉNARDIERS- represent the lawless subculture of society. they own an Inn and cheat their customers. The novel portrays them as brutal and abusive figures; some adaptation transform them into buffoonish characters, to provide comic relief from the generally more serious tone of the story.

Master of the house- at the Montfermeil inn

[Mr.Thenardier:]

Welcome, Monsieur, sit yourself down And meet the best innkeeper in town-As for the rest, all of them crooks: Rooking their guests and cooking the books-Seldom do you see Honest men like me- A gent of good intent -Who's content to be-Master of the house,doling out the charm  -Ready with a handshake and an open palm-Tells a saucy tale, makes a little stir -  Customers appreciate a bon-viveur-Glad to do me friends a favor Doesn't cost me to be nice-But nothing gets you nothing -Everything has got a little price!-Master of the house,- keeper of the zoo -Ready to relieve them of a sou or two-Watering the wine,- making up the weight -Picking up their knick-knacks when they can't -see straight -Everybody loves a landlord -Everybody's bosom friend -I do whatever pleases- Jesus! don't I bleed 'em in the end!

[Mr. Thenardier &  the Drinkers:]

Master of the house, quick to catch your eye-Never wants a passerby to pass him by-Servant to the poor, butler to the great-Comforter, philosopher, and lifelong mate!-Everybody's boon companion-Everybody's chaperone

[Mr.Thenardier:]

But lock up your valises-Jesus! Won't I skin you to the bone!-Enter Monsieur, lay down your load-Unlace your boots, rest from the road-This weighs a ton, travel's a curse-But here we strive to lighten your purse-Here the goose is cooked-Here the fat is fried-And nothing's overlooked-Till I'm satisfied-Food beyond compare.- Food beyond belief-Mix it in a mincer and pretend it's beef-Kidney of a horse, liver of a cat-Filling up the sausages with this and that-Residents are more than welcome-Bridal suite is occupied-Reasonable charges-Plus some little extra on the side!-Charge 'em for the lice, extra for the mice-Two percent for looking in the mirror twice-Here a little slice, there a little cut-Three percent for sleeping with the window shut-When it comes to fixing prices-There are a lot of tricks he knows-How it all increases, all them bits and pieces Jesus! It'samazing how it grows!

[Mr.Thenardier]:

Master of the house, quick to catch your eye-Never wants a passerby to pass him by-Servant to the poor, butler to the great-Comforter, philosopher, and lifelong mate!-Everybody's boon companion-Gives 'em everything he's got-Dirty bunch of geezers-Jesus! What a sorry little lot!

[Mrs. Thenardier:]

I used to dream that I would meet a prince-But God Almighty, have you seen what's happened since?-Master of the house? Isn't worth me spit!-Comforter, philosopher' and lifelong shit!-Cunning little brain, regular Voltaire-Thinks he's quite a lover but there's not much there-What a cruel trick of nature, landed me with such a louse-God knows ,how I've lasted living with this bastard in the house!

[Mr.Thenardier & the  Drinkers:]

Master of the house!- [Mrs. Thenardier:] Master and a half! -[Mr.Thenardier & the Drinkers:]-Comforter, philosopher [Mrs. Thenardier:]- Ah, don't make me laugh!

[]Mr.Thenardier & Drinkers:]

Servant to the poor, butler to the great- [Mrs.. Thenardier:]-Hypocrite and toady and inebriate!- [Mr.Thenardier & Drinkers:] -Everybody bless the landlord!-Everybody bless his spouse! -Everybody raise a glass -[Mrs. Thenardier :] -Raise it up the master's arse -[All]- Everybody raise a glass to the Master of the House!

Master of the house - Alun Armstrong, Jenny Galloway (Les Miserables 10th Anniversary Concert - Royal Albert Hall in London)

Cosette- The daughter of Fantine. After Fantine dies, from approximately the age of three to the age of eight, Cosette is beaten and forced to work for the Thénardiers.  Mrs.Thénardier spoils her own daughters and abuses Cosette.  The ex-convict Jean Valjean feels sorry for Cosette and help raise her.

Cosette dreams and thoughts and reality:

There is a castle on a cloud

I like to go there in my sleep

Aren't any floors for me to sweep

Not in my castle on a cloud

There is a room that's full of toys

There are a hundred boys and girls

Nobody shouts or talks too loud

Not in my castle on a cloud

There is a lady all in white

Holds me and sings a lullaby

She's nice to see and she's soft to touch

She says, "Cosette, I love you very much"

I know a place where no one's lost

I know a place where no one cries

Crying at all is not allowed

Not in my castle on a cloud

Oh, help, I think I hear them now

And I’m nowhere near finished sweeping…. scrubbing and polishing the floors.

Oh, it’s her…

It’s madame

[Mrs. Thenardier:]

Now look who’s here!

The little madame herself

Pretending once again she’s been so awfully good

Better not let me catch you slacking.

Better not catch my eye

Ten rotten francs you mother sends me

What’s that’ going to buy?

Now take that pail,

My little mademoiselle

And go draw some water from the well

We should never have taken you in

In the first place

How stupid the things we do

Like mother like daughter, the scum of the street

Still there, Cosette?

Your tears will do you no good

I told you, fetch some water from the well in the wood.

COSETTE says:

Please do not send me out alone

Not in the darkness on my own

[Mrs. Thenardier:]

Enough of that …………………………

and don’t forget to be nice

You heard me ask for something and I never ask twice

Castle on a Cloud - Hannah Chick (Les Miserables 10th Anniversary Concert - Royal Albert Hall in London)

Les Misérables, is an epic and historical fiction novel by Victor Hugo, published in French in 1862.

Les Misérables is considered one of the greatest novels of the 19th century. In 5 volume Victor Hugo tells a history of broken dreams and unrequited love, passion, sacrifice, and redemption. it takes place in France in 1815, (more than two decades after the start of the French Revolution).

The Miserable Ones, The Poor Ones, The Victims and The Dispossessed, the novel follows the lives and interactions of several characters, particularly the struggles of an ex-convict Jean Valjean.

It has been popularized through numerous adaptations for film, television, and the stage, including musical on Broadway.

The Broadway production of "Les Misérables" ran for 16 years on Broadway in New York city. The show opened on March 12, 1987 at the Broadway Theatre. in October 1990 was transferred to the Imperial Theatre. The musical runs approximately 3 hours.

In this recording I will show some of the main Characters of Les Misérables   though the lens of the Musical show, since the book itself is an exceptionally long for this podcast.

Fantine – A beautiful Parisian young working-class Frenchwoman abandoned with a small child by her lover Félix Tholomyès. Fantine leaves her baby daughter Cosette in the care of the Thénardiers, and finds work at Monsieur Madeleine's factory, Fantine was Illiterate, so she has others write letters to the Thénardiers on her behalf.

A female supervisor discovers that she is an unwed mother and dismisses her. To meet the Thénardiers' repeated demands for money, she sells her hair and two front teeth, and turns to prostitution.

Fantine becomes ill, and died living little Cosette with the Thérnardier innkeepers in the village of Montfermeil

Fantine’s lamentations.

There was a time when men were kind.

When their voices were soft.

And their words inviting.

There was a time when love was blind.

And the world was a song.

And the song was exciting.

There was a time...

Then it all went wrong.

I dreamed a dream in time gone by,

When hope was high

And life worth living.

I dreamed that love would never die.

I dreamed that God would be forgiving.

Then I was young and unafraid,

And dreams were made and used and wasted.

There was no ransom to be paid,

No song unsung, no wine untasted.

But the tigers come at night

With their voices soft as thunder

As they tear your hope apart

As they turn your dreams to shame

He slept a summer by my side

He filled my days with endless wonder

He took my childhood in his stride

But he was gone when autumn came

And still I dream he’ll come to me

That we will live the years together

But there are dreams that cannot be

And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be

So different from this hell I’m living

So different now from what it seemed

Now life has killed the dream - I dream

Ruthie Henshall - I Dreamed A Dream (Les Miserables 10th Anniversary Concert –

Royal Albert Hall in London)

Still confident that they would surely help her some day she sang out, "Who will make the bread?"

Alas for the Little Red Hen! Once more her hopes were dashed! For the Pig said, "Not I," the Cat said, "Not I," the Rat said, "Not I."

So the Little Red Hen said once more, "I will then," and she did.

Feeling that she might have known all the time that she would have to do it all herself, she went and put on a fresh apron and spotless cook's cap. First of all she set the dough, as was proper. When it was time she brought out the moulding board and the baking tins, moulded the bread, divided it into loaves, and put them into the oven to bake. All the while the Cat sat lazily by, giggling and chuckling.

And close at hand the vain Rat powdered his nose and admired himself in a mirror.

In the distance could be heard the long-drawn snores of the dozing Pig.

At last the great moment arrived. A delicious odor was wafted upon the autumn breeze. Everywhere the barnyard citizens sniffed the air with delight.

The Red Hen ambled in her picketty-picketty way toward the source of all this excitement.

Although she appeared to be perfectly calm, in reality she could only with difficulty restrain an impulse to dance and sing, for had she not done all the work on this wonderful bread?

Small wonder that she was the most excited person in the barnyard!

She did not know whether the bread would be fit to eat, but - joy of joys! - when the lovely brown loaves came out of the oven, they were done to perfection!

Then, probably because she had acquired the habit, the Red Hen called: "Who will eat the Bread?"

All the animals in the barnyard were watching hungrily and smacking their lips in anticipation, and the Pig said, "I will," the Cat said, "I will," the Rat said, "I will."

But the Little Red Hen said,

"No, you won't. I will."

And she did.

She got the sickle from among the farmer's tools in the barn and proceeded to cut off all of the big plant of Wheat.

On the ground lay the nicely cut Wheat, ready to be gathered and threshed, but the newest and yellowest and downiest of Mrs. Hen's chicks set up a "peep-peep-peeping" in their most vigorous fashion, proclaiming to the world at large, but most particularly to their mother, that she was neglecting them.

Poor Little Red Hen! She felt quite bewildered and hardly knew where to turn.

Her attention was sorely divided between her duty to her children and her duty to the Wheat, for which she felt responsible.

So, again, in a very hopeful tone, she called out, "Who will thresh the Wheat?"

But the Pig, with a grunt, said, "Not I," the Cat, with a meow, said, "Not I," and the Rat, with a squeak, said, "Not I."

So the Little Red Hen, looking, it must be admitted, rather discouraged, said, "Well, I will, then."

And she did.

Of course, she had to feed her babies first, though, and when she had gotten them all to sleep for their afternoon nap, she went out and threshed the Wheat. Then she called out: "Who will carry the Wheat to the mill to be ground?"

Turning their backs with snippy glee, the Pig said, "Not I," and the Cat said, "Not I," and the Rat said, "Not I."

So the good Little Red Hen could do nothing but say, "I will then." And she did.

Carrying the sack of Wheat, she trudged off to the distant mill. There she ordered the Wheat ground into beautiful white flour. When the miller brought her the flour she walked slowly back all the way to her own barnyard in her own picketty-picketty fashion.

She even managed, in spite of her load, to catch a nice juicy worm now and then and had one left for the babies when she reached them. Those cunning little fluff-balls were so glad to see their mother. For the first time, they really appreciated her.

After this really strenuous day Mrs. Hen retired to her slumbers earlier than usual - indeed, before the colors came into the sky to herald the setting of the sun, her usual bedtime hour.

She would have liked to sleep late in the morning, but her chicks, joining in the morning chorus of the hen yard, drove away all hopes of such a luxury.

Even as she sleepily half opened one eye, the thought came to her that to-day that Wheat must, somehow, be made into bread.

She was not in the habit of making bread, although, of course, anyone can make it if he or she follows the recipe with care, and she knew perfectly well that she could do it if necessary.

So after her children were fed and made sweet and fresh for the day, she hunted up the Pig, the Cat and the Rat.

A Little Red Hen lived in a barnyard. She spent almost all of her time walking about the barnyard in her picketty-picketty fashion, scratching everywhere for worms.

She dearly loved fat, delicious worms and felt they were absolutely necessary to the health of her children. As often as she found a worm she would call "Chuck-chuck-chuck!" to her chickies.

When they were gathered about her, she would distribute choice morsels of her tid-bit. A busy little body was she!

A cat usually napped lazily in the barn door, not even bother herself to scare the rat who ran here and there as he pleased. And as for the pig who lived in the sty – he did not care what happened so long as he could eat and grow fat.

One day the Little Red Hen found a Seed. It was a Wheat Seed, but the Little Red Hen was so accustomed to bugs and worms that she supposed this to be some new and perhaps very delicious kind of meat. She bit it gently and found that it resembled a worm in no way whatsoever as to taste although because it was long and slender, a Little Red Hen might easily be fooled by its appearance.

Carrying it about, she made many inquiries as to what it might be. She found it was a Wheat Seed and that, if planted, it would grow up and when ripe it could be made into flour and then into bread.

When she discovered that, she knew it ought to be planted. She was so busy hunting food for herself and her family that, naturally, she thought she ought not to take time to plant it.

So she thought of the Pig - upon whom time must hang heavily and of the Cat who had nothing to do, and of the great fat Rat with his idle hours, and she called loudly:

"Who will plant the Seed?"

the Pig said, "Not I," and the Cat said, "Not I," and the Rat said, "Not I."

"Well, then," said the Little Red Hen, "I will."

And she did.

Then she went on with her daily duties through the long summer days, scratching for worms and feeding her chicks, while the Pig grew fat, and the Cat grew fat, and the Rat grew fat, and the Wheat grew tall and ready for harvest.

So one day the Little Red Hen chanced to notice how large the Wheat was and that the grain was ripe, so she ran about calling briskly: "Who will cut the Wheat?"

The Pig said, "Not I," the Cat said, "Not I," and the Rat said, "Not I."

"Well, then," said the Little Red Hen, "I will."

And she did.

Abraham Lincoln was an American statesman and lawyer who served as the 16th president of the United States from 1861 to 1865. Lincoln led the nation through the American Civil War, the country's greatest moral, constitutional, and political crisis.

In the United States this speech in thought in elementary school. (Elementary school is after kindergarten; from first (1st) grade through fifth (5th) or sixth (6th) grade depending on the school system.) The children must memorize The Gettysburg Address as a homework.

The Gettysburg Address is a speech that U.S. President Abraham Lincoln delivered during the American Civil War at the dedication of the Soldiers' National Cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, on the afternoon of November 19, 1863, four and a half months after the Union armies defeated those of the Confederacy at the Battle of Gettysburg. It is one of the best-known speeches in American history.

                                        The Gettysburg Address

                                           by Abraham Lincoln         

                                          

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Abraham Lincoln

In Rome there was once a poor slave whose name was Androclus. His master was a cruel man, and so unkind to him that at last Androclus ran away.

He hid himself in a wild wood for many days; but there was no food to be found, and he grew so weak and sick that he thought he should die. So, one day he crept into a cave and lay down, and soon he was fast asleep.

After a while, a great noise woke him up. A lion had come into the cave and was roaring loudly. Androclus was very much afraid, for he felt sure that the beast would kill him. Soon, however, he saw that the lion was not angry, but that he limped as though his foot hurt him.

Then Androclus grew so bold that he took hold of the lion's lame paw to see what was the matter. The lion stood quite still, and rubbed his head against the man's shoulder. He seemed to say,--

"I know that you will help me."

Androclus lifted the paw from the ground, and saw that it was a long, sharp thorn which hurt the lion so much. He took the end of the thorn in his fingers; then he gave a strong, quick pull, and out it came. The lion was full of joy. He jumped about like a dog and licked the hands and feet of his new friend.

Androclus was not at all afraid after this; and when night came, he and the lion lay down and slept side by side.

For a long time, the lion brought food to Androclus every day; and the two became such good friends, that Androclus found his new life a very happy one.

One day some soldiers who were passing through the wood found Androclus in the cave. They knew who he was, and so took him back to Rome.

It was the law at that time that every slave who ran away from his master should be made to fight a hungry lion. So a fierce lion was shut up for a while without food, and a time was set for the fight.

When the day came, thousands of people crowded to see the sport. They went to such places at that time very much as people now days go to see a circus show or a game of baseball.

The door opened, and poor Androclus was brought in. He was almost dead with fear, for the roars of the lion could already be heard. He looked up and saw that there was no pity in the thousands of faces around him.

Then the hungry lion rushed in. With a single bound he reached the poor slave. Androclus gave a great cry, not of fear, but of gladness. It was his old friend, the lion of the cave.

The people, who had expected to see the man killed by the lion, were filled with wonder. They saw Androclus put his arms around the lion's neck; they saw the lion lie down at his feet, and lick them lovingly; they saw the great beast rub his head against the slave's face as though he wanted to be petted. They could not understand what it all meant.

After a while they asked Androclus to tell them about it. So he stood up before them, and, with his arm around the lion's neck, told how he and the beast had lived together in the cave.

"I am a man," he said; "but no man has ever befriended me. This poor lion alone has been kind to me; and we love each other as brothers."

The people were not so bad that they could be cruel to the poor slave now. "Live and be free!" they cried. "Live and be free!"

Others cried, "Let the lion go free too! Give both of them their liberty!"

And so Androclus was set free, and the lion was given to him for his own. And they lived together in Rome for many years.

I see trees of green

Red roses too

I see them bloom

For me and you

And I think to myself

What a wonderful world

I see skies of blue

And clouds of white

The bright blessed day

The dark sacred night

And I think to myself

What a wonderful world

The colors of the rainbow

So pretty in the sky

Are also on the faces

Of people going by

I see friends shaking hands

Saying, "How do you do?"

They're really saying

"I love you"

I hear babies cry

I watch them grow

They'll learn much more

Than I'll never know

And I think to myself

What a wonderful world

Yes, I think to myself

What a wonderful world

Oh yeah

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov was born on Jan 29, 1860, he was a Russian physician and supreme short story writer and playwright. He was the third of six children. His father was a grocer, painter and religious fanatic with a mercurial temperament who "thrashed" his children and was likely emotionally abusive to his wife. Chekhov, like Dickens, was no stranger to financial hardship, and in 1875 his father took the family and fled to Moscow to escape creditors. Chekhov stayed behind for three more years to finish school. He paid for his tuition by catching and selling goldfinches and dispensing private tutoring lessons and selling short sketches to the newspaper. He sent any money he could spare to his family in Moscow. Chekhov is considered an exemplar author in the genre of Realism. A child-family separation theme plays out in several of Chekhov's stories .

In 1879 Chekhov was admitted to medical school and he joined his family in Moscow. He assumed financial responsibility for the family and while attending classes at Moscow State University, he wrote and sold a large number of humorous stories and vignettes of contemporary Russian life. He published more than four hundred short stories, sketches and vignettes by the age of twenty-six.

He once said:

"Medicine is my lawful wife and literature my mistress; when I get tired of one, I spend the night with the other."

Chekhov, known as "Russia's most elusive literary bachelor,

To Alexei Suvorin who was a lifelong friend, he said:

“ By all means I will be married if you wish it. But on these conditions: everything must be as it has been hitherto—that is, she must live in Moscow while I live in the country, and I will come and see her ... I promise to be an excellent husband, but give me a wife who, like the moon, will not appear in my sky every day.”

On 25 May 1901, Chekhov married Olga Knipper and the

marital arrangements with Olga was, he lived largely at Yalta (southern Ukraine), she in Moscow, pursuing her acting career.

Chekhov is said to be the father of the modern short story end had influenced Ernest Hemingway, Shimizu Kunio, Ai Nagai Woody Allen and many more.

It was Chekhov who first deliberately wrote dialogue in which the mainstream of emotional action ran underneath the surface. It was he who articulated the notion that human beings hardly ever speak in explicit terms among each other about their deepest emotions, that the great, tragic, climactic moments are often happening beneath outwardly trivial conversation

One can argue Anton Chekhov is the second-most popular writer on the planet. Only Shakespeare outranks Chekhov in terms of movie adaptations of their work, we generally know less about Chekhov than we know about mysterious Shakespeare.

Chekhov died of tuberculosis at the age of 44 on Jul 15, 1904.

At last he came out. Gathering all the monks around him, with a tear-stained face and with an expression of grief and indignation, he began telling them of what had befallen him during those three months. His voice was calm and his eyes were smiling while he described his journey from the monastery to the town. On the road, he told them, the birds sang to him, the brooks gurgled, and sweet youthful hopes agitated his soul; he marched on and felt like a soldier going to battle and confident of victory; he walked on dreaming, and composed poems and hymns, and reached the end of his journey without noticing it.

But his voice quivered, his eyes flashed, and he was full of wrath when he came to speak of the town and of the men in it. Never in his life had he seen or even dared to imagine what he met with when he went into the town. Only then for the first time in his life, in his old age, he saw and understood how powerful was the devil, how fair was evil and how weak and faint-hearted and worthless were men. By an unhappy chance the first dwelling he entered was the abode of vice. Some fifty men in possession of much money were eating and drinking wine beyond measure. Intoxicated by the wine, they sang songs and boldly uttered terrible, revolting words such as a God-fearing man could not bring himself to pronounce; boundlessly free, self-confident, and happy, they feared neither God nor the devil, nor death, but said and did what they liked, and went whither their lust led them. And the wine, clear as amber, flecked with sparks of gold, must have been irresistibly sweet and fragrant, for each man who drank it smiled blissfully and wanted to drink more. To the smile of man it responded with a smile and sparkled joyfully when they drank it, as though it knew the devilish charm it kept hidden in its sweetness.

The old man, growing more and more incensed and weeping with wrath, went on to describe what he had seen. On a table in the midst of the revelers, he said, stood a sinful, half-naked woman. It was hard to imagine or to find in nature anything more lovely and fascinating. This reptile, young, long-haired, dark-skinned, with black eyes and full lips, shameless and insolent, showed her snow-white teeth and smiled as though to say: "Look how shameless, how beautiful I am." Silk and brocade fell in lovely folds from her shoulders, but her beauty would not hide itself under her clothes, but eagerly thrust itself through the folds, like the young grass through the ground in spring. The shameless woman drank wine, sang songs, and abandoned herself to anyone who wanted her.

Then the old man, wrathfully brandishing his arms, described the horse-races, the bull-fights, the theaters, the artists' studios where they painted naked women or molded them of clay. He spoke with inspiration, with sonorous beauty, as though he were playing on unseen chords, while the monks, petrified, greedily drank in his words and gasped with rapture. . . .

After describing all the charms of the devil, the beauty of evil, and the fascinating grace of the dreadful female form, the old man cursed the devil, turned and shut himself up in his cell. . . .

When he came out of his cell in the morning there was not a monk left in the monastery; they had all fled to the town.

Dozens of years passed by, and every day was like every other day, every night was like every other night. Except the birds and the wild beasts, not one soul appeared near the monastery. The nearest human habitation was far away, and to reach it from the monastery, or to reach the monastery from it, meant a journey of over seventy miles across the desert. Only men who despised life, who had renounced it, and who came to the monastery as to the grave, ventured to cross the desert.

What was the amazement of the monks, therefore, when one night there knocked at their gate a man who turned out to be from the town, and the most ordinary sinner who loved life. Before saying his prayers and asking for the Father Superior's blessing, this man asked for wine and food. To the question how he had come from the town into the desert, he answered by a long story of hunting; he had gone out hunting, had drunk too much, and lost his way. To the suggestion that he should enter the monastery and save his soul, he replied with a smile: "I am not a fit companion for you!"

When he had eaten and drunk, he looked at the monks who were serving him, shook his head reproachfully, and said:

"You don't do anything, you monks. You are good for nothing but eating and drinking. Is that the way to save one's soul? Only think, while you sit here in peace, eat and drink and dream of beatitude, your neighbours are perishing and going to hell. You should see what is going on in the town! Some are dying of hunger, others, not knowing what to do with their gold, sink into profligacy and perish like flies stuck in honey. There is no faith, no truth in men. Whose task is it to save them? Whose work is it to preach to them? It is not for me, drunk from morning till night as I am. Can a meek spirit, a loving heart, and faith in God have been given you for you to sit here within four walls doing nothing?"

The townsman's drunken words were insolent and unseemly, but they had a strange effect upon the Father Superior. The old man exchanged glances with his monks, turned pale, and said:

"My brothers, he speaks the truth, you know. Indeed, poor people in their weakness and lack of understanding are perishing in vice and infidelity, while we do not move, as though it did not concern us. Why should I not go and remind them of the Christ whom they have forgotten?"

The townsman's words had carried the old man away. The next day he took his staff, said farewell to the brotherhood, and set off for the town. And the monks were left without music, and without his speeches and verses. They spent a month drearily, then a second, but the old man did not come back. At last after three months had passed the familiar tap of his staff was heard. The monks flew to meet him and showered questions upon him, but instead of being delighted to see them he wept bitterly and did not utter a word. The monks noticed that he looked greatly aged and had grown thinner; his face looked exhausted and wore an expression of profound sadness, and when he wept he had the air of a man who has been outraged.

The monks fell to weeping too and began with sympathy asking him why he was weeping, why his face was so gloomy, but he locked himself in his cell without uttering a word. For seven days he sat in his cell, eating, and drinking nothing, weeping, and not playing on his organ. To knocking at his door and to the entreaties of the monks to come out and share his grief with them he replied with unbroken silence.

IN the fifth century, just as now, the sun rose every morning and every evening retired to rest. In the morning, when the first rays kissed the dew, the earth revived, the air was filled with the sounds of rapture and hope; while in the evening the same earth subsided into silence and plunged into gloomy darkness. One day was like another, one night like another. From time to time a storm-cloud raced up and there was the angry rumble of thunder, or a negligent star fell out of the sky, or a pale monk ran to tell the brotherhood that not far from the monastery he had seen a tiger -- and that was all, and then each day was like the next.

The monks worked and prayed, and their Father Superior played on the organ, made Latin verses, and wrote music. The wonderful old man possessed an extraordinary gift. He played on the organ with such art that even the oldest monks, whose hearing had grown somewhat dull towards the end of their lives, could not restrain their tears when the sounds of the organ floated from his cell. When he spoke of anything, even of the most ordinary things -- for instance of the trees, of the wild beasts, or of the sea -- they could not listen to him without a smile or tears, and it seemed that the same chords vibrated in his soul as in the organ. If he were moved to anger or abandoned himself to intense joy, or began speaking of something terrible or grand, then a passionate inspiration took possession of him, tears came into his flashing eyes, his face flushed, and his voice thundered, and as the monks listened to him they felt that their souls were spell-bound by his inspiration; at such marvelous, splendid moments his power over them was boundless, and if he had bidden his elders fling themselves into the sea, they would all, every one of them, have hastened to carry out his wishes.

His music, his voice, his poetry in which he glorified God, the heavens and the earth, were a continual source of joy to the monks. It sometimes happened that through the monotony of their lives they grew weary of the trees, the flowers, the spring, the autumn, their ears were tired of the sound of the sea, and the song of the birds seemed tedious to them, but the talents of their Father Superior were as necessary to them as their daily bread.

And Aubrey was her name,

A not so very ordinary girl or name

But who's to blame?

For a love that wouldn't bloom

For the hearts that never played in tune

Like a lovely melody that everyone can sing,

Take away the words that rhyme it doesn't mean a thing

And Aubrey was her name

We tripped the light and danced together to the moon,

But where was June?

No, it never came around

If it did, it never made a sound,

Maybe I was absent or was listening to fast,

Catching all the words, but then the meaning going past,

But God I miss the girl,

And I'd go a thousand times around the world just to be

Closer to her than to me

And Aubrey was her name,

I never knew her, but I loved her just the same,

I loved her name

Wish that I had found the way

And the reasons that would make her stay

I have learned to lead a life apart from all the rest

If I can't have the one I want, I'll do without the best

But how I miss the girl

And I'd go a million times around the world just to say

She had been mine for a day

The Little Pig who had Roast Beef.

This little pig was a very good and careful fellow. He gave his mother scarcely any trouble, and always took a pleasure in doing all she bade him. Here you see him sitting down with clean hands and face, to some nice roast beef, while his brother, the idle pig, who is standing on a stool in the corner, with the dunce's cap on, has none. He sat down and quietly learned his lesson, and asked his mother to hear him repeat it. And this he did so well that Mrs. Pig stroked him on the ears and forehead, and called him a good little pig. After this he asked her to allow him to help her make tea. He brought everything she wanted, and lifted off the kettle from the fire, without spilling a drop either on his toes or the carpet. By-and-bye he went out, after asking his mother's leave, to play with his hoop. He had not gone far when he saw an old blind pig, who, with his hat in his hand was crying at the loss of his dog; so he put his hand in his pocket and found a halfpenny which he gave to the poor old pig. It was for such thoughtful conduct as this that his mother often gave this little pig roast beef. We now come to the little pig who had none.

The Little Pig who had None.

This was a most obstinate and willful little pig. His mother had set him to learn his lesson, but no sooner had she gone out into the garden, than he tore his book into pieces. When his mother came back he ran off into the streets to play with other idle little pigs like himself. After this he quarreled with one of the pigs and got a sound thrashing. Being afraid to go home, he stayed out till it was quite dark and caught a severe cold. So he was taken home and put to bed, and had to take a lot of nasty physic.

The Little Pig who Cried “Wee, wee,” all the Way Home.

This little pig went fishing. Now he had been told not to go into Farmer Grumpey's grounds, who did not allow anyone to fish in his part of the river. But in spite of what he had been told, this foolish little pig went there. He soon caught a very large fish, and while he was trying to carry it home, Farmer Grumpey came running along with his great whip. He quickly dropped the fish, but the farmer caught him, and as he laid his whip over his back for some time, the little pig ran off, crying, “Wee, wee, wee,” all the way home.

This little piggy went to market,

This little piggy stayed home,

This little piggy had roast beef

This little piggy had none,

And this little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home.

The Little Pig who Went to Market.

There was once a family of Five Little Pigs, and Mrs. Pig, their mother, loved them all very dearly. Some of these little pigs were very good and took a great deal of trouble to please her. The eldest pig was so active and useful that he was called Mr. Pig. One day he went to market with his cart full of vegetables, but Rusty, the donkey, began to show his bad temper before he had gone very far on the road. All the coaxing and whipping would not make him move. So, Mr. Pig took him out of the shafts, and being very strong, drew the cart to market himself. When he got there, all the other pigs began to laugh. But they did not laugh so loudly when Mr. Pig told them all his struggles on the road. Mr. Pig lost no time in selling his vegetables, and very soon after Rusty came trotting into the market-place, and as he now seemed willing to take his place in the cart, Mr. Pig started for home without delay. When he got there, he told Mrs. Pig his story, and she called him her best and most worthy son.

The Little Pig who Stayed at Home.

This little pig very much wanted to go with his brother, but as he was so mischievous that he could not be trusted far away, his mother made him stay at home, and told him to keep a good fire while she went out to the miller's to buy some flour. But as soon as he was alone, instead of learning his lessons, he began to tease the poor cat. Then he got the bellows, and cut the leather with a knife, so as to see where the wind came from: and when he could not find this out, he began to cry. After this he broke all his brother's toys; he forced the drum-stick through the drum, he tore off the tail from the kite, and then pulled off the horse's head. And then he went to the cupboard and ate the jam. When Mrs. Pig came home, she sat down by the fire, and being very tired, she soon fell asleep. No sooner had she done so, than this bad little pig got a long handkerchief and tied her in her chair. But soon she awoke and found out all the mischief that he had been doing. She saw at once the damage that he had done to his brother's playthings. So, she quickly brought out her thickest and heaviest birch, and gave this naughty little pig such a beating as he did not forget for a long time.

He went back towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe— scratch, scratch, scratch, Peter scattered underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow, and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate!

Peter sat down to rest; he was out of breath and trembling with fright, and he had not the least idea which way to go. Also he was very damp with sitting in that can.

After a time, he began to wander about, going lippity— lippity—not very fast, and looking all around.

He found a door in a wall; but it was locked, and there was no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath.

An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry.

Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Presently, he came to a pond where Mr. McGregor filled his water-cans. A white cat was staring at some goldfish; she sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her; he had heard about cats from his cousin, little Benjamin Bunny.

He went back towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe— scratch, scratch, scratch, Peter scattered underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow, and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate!

Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow, and started running as fast as he could go, along a straight walk behind some black-currant bushes.

Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the gate and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden.

Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scarecrow to frighten the blackbirds.

Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir-tree.

He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole and shut his eyes. His mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight!

I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.

His mother put him to bed and made some chamomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter!

"One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time."

BUT Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries, for supper.

ONCE upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were— Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter.

They lived with their Mother in a sandbank, underneath the root of a big fir tree.

"Now, my dears," said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, "you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor."

"Now run along, and don't get into mischief. I am going out."

Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns.

Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries.

BUT Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's garden and squeezed under the gate!

FIRST, he ate some lettuces and some French beans; and then he ate some radishes.

And then, feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley.

But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr. McGregor!

Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages, but he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a rake and calling out, "Stop thief!"

Peter was most dreadfully frightened; he rushed all over the garden, for he had forgotten the way back to the gate.

He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.

After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I think he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net, and got caught by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons, quite new.

Peter gave himself up for lost and shed big tears; but his sobs were overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to him in great excitement, and implored him to exert himself.

Mr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the top of Peter; but Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket behind him.

And rushed into the tool-shed and jumped into a can. It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in, if it had not had so much water in it.

Mr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool-shed, perhaps hidden underneath a flowerpot. He began to turn them over carefully, looking under each.

Presently Peter sneezed— "Kertyschoo!" Mr. McGregor was after him in no time,

And tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice (Yeah), sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of “interposition” and “nullification”, one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day, this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning: “My country, ‘tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!”

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. But not only that: Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring. And when this happens (Let it ring, Let it ring), and when we allow freedom ring (Let it ring), when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men, and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

1963 is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges. But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: in the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds.

Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. (My Lord) Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny, and they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating for whites only. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his iconic speech, titled I Have a Dream, on August 28, 1963- from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. at the event of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom.

I will be reading the speech of Martin Luther King Junior, as it was written and read by Martin Luther king Jr. on August 28, 1963.

However, you as a English learner should know that, In the United States of America today, the word  Negro is a demeaning word, it is an offensive word, it is a bad word, that you should not say or write it. if you must read in its place - you should say - the “N” word   instead. Also, the correct way to describe a person of African decedent, in the USA is: He or she is an African American or He or She is a Person of Color.

In this recording I divided in 3 parts to make easier to read and listen.  

I have a Dream by Martin Luther King Junior

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself in exile in his own land. And so we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked insufficient funds.

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children. It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality.

Jack and the Beanstalk

English Fairy Tales

Once upon a time there lived a poor widow and her son Jack. One day, Jack’s mother told him to sell their only cow. Jack went to the market and on the way, he met a man who wanted to buy his cow. Jack asked, “What will you give me in return for my cow?” The man answered, “I will give you five magic beans!” Jack took the magic beans and gave the man the cow. But when he reached home, Jack’s mother was very angry. She said, “You fool! He took away your cow and gave you some beans!” She threw the beans out of the window. Jack was very sad and went to sleep without dinner.

The next day, when Jack woke up in the morning and looked out of the window, he saw that a huge beanstalk had grown from his magic beans! He climbed up the beanstalk and reached a kingdom in the sky. There lived a giant and his wife. Jack went inside the house and found the giant’s wife in the kitchen. Jack said, “Could you please give me something to eat? I am so hungry!” The kind wife gave him bread and some milk.

While he was eating, the giant came home. The giant was very big and looked very fearsome. Jack was terrified and went and hid inside. The giant cried, “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!” The wife said, “There is no boy in here!” So, the giant ate his food and then went to his room. He took out his sacks of gold coins, counted them and kept them aside. Then he went to sleep. In the night, Jack crept out of his hiding place, took one sack of gold coins, and climbed down the beanstalk. At home, he gave the coins to his mother. His mother was very happy, and they lived well for some time.

Jack Climbed the beanstalk and went to the giant’s house again. Once again, Jack asked the giant’s wife for food, but while he was eating the giant returned. Jack leapt up in fright and went and hid under the bed. The giant cried, “Fee-fi fo -fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!” The wife said, “There is no boy in here!” The giant ate his food and went to his room. There, he took out a hen. He shouted, “Lay!” and the hen laid a golden egg. When the giant fell asleep, Jack took the hen and climbed down the beanstalk. Jack’s mother was very happy with him.

After some days, Jack once again climbed the beanstalk and went to the giant’s castle. For the third time, Jack met the giant’s wife and asked for some food. Once again, the giant’s wife gave him bread and milk. But while Jack was eating, the giant came home. “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!” cried the giant. “Don’t be silly! There is no boy in here!” said his wife.

The giant had a magical harp that could play beautiful songs. While the giant slept, Jack took the harp and was about to leave. Suddenly, the magic harp cried, “Help master! A boy is stealing me!” The giant woke up and saw Jack with the harp. Furious, he ran after Jack. But Jack was too fast for him. He ran down the beanstalk and reached home. The giant followed him down. Jack quickly ran inside his house and fetched an axe. He began to chop the beanstalk. The giant fell and died.

Jack and his mother were now very rich, and they lived happily ever after.

A Town Mouse once visited a relative who lived in the country. For lunch, the Country Mouse served wheat stalks, roots, and acorns, with a dash of cold water for drink. The Town Mouse ate very sparingly, nibbling a little of this and a little of that, and by her manner making it very plain that she ate the simple food only to be polite.

After the meal, the friends had a long talk, or rather the Town Mouse talked about her life in the city while the Country Mouse listened. They then went to bed in a cozy nest in the hedgerow and slept in quiet and comfort until morning. In her sleep the Country Mouse dreamed she was a Town Mouse with all the luxuries and delights of city life that her friend had described for her. So, the next day when the Town Mouse asked the Country Mouse to go home with her to the city, she gladly said yes.

When they reached the mansion in which the Town Mouse lived, they found on the table in the dining room the leavings of a very fine banquet. There were sweetmeats and jellies, pastries, delicious cheeses, indeed, the most tempting foods that a Mouse can imagine. But just as the Country Mouse was about to nibble a dainty bit of pastry, she heard a Cat mew loudly and scratch at the door. In great fear the Mice scurried to a hiding place, where they lay quite still for a long time, hardly daring to breathe. When at last they ventured back to the feast, the door opened suddenly and in came the servants to clear the table, followed by the House Dog.

The Country Mouse stopped in the Town Mouse's den only long enough to pick up her carpet bag and umbrella.

"You may have luxuries and dainties that I have not," she said as she hurried away, "but I prefer my plain food and simple life in the country with the peace and security that go with it."

Poverty with security is better than plenty in the midst of fear and uncertainty.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a Jurisdiction foreign to our Constitution, and unacknowledged by our Laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For quartering large Bodies of Armed Troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from Punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:For cutting off our Trade with all Parts of the World:

For imposing taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us, in many Cases, of the Benefits of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended Offences:

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an arbitrary Government, and enlarging its Boundaries, so as to render it at once an Example and fit Instrument for introducing the same absolute Rule in these Colonies:

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with Powers to legislate for us in all Cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our Seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our Towns, and destroyed the Lives of our People.He is, at this Time, transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the Works of Death, Desolation, and Tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty and Perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous Ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized Nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the Executioners of their Friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic Insurrections among us, and has endeavoured to bring on the Inhabitants of our Frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known Rule of Warfare, is an undistinguished Destruction, of all Ages, Sexes and Conditions.In every stage of these Oppressions we have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble Terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated Injury. A Prince, whose Character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the Ruler of a free People.

Nor have we been wanting in Attentions to our British Brethren. We have warned them from Time to Time of Attempts by their Legislature to extend an unwarrantable Jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the Circumstances of our Emigration and Settlement here. We have appealed to their native Justice and Magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the Ties of our common Kindred to disavow these Usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our Connections and Correspondence. They too have been deaf to the Voice of Justice and of Consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the Necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of Mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace, Friends.We, therefore, the Representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the World for the Rectitude of our Intentions, do, in the Name, and by the Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly Publish and Declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be, Free and Independent States; that they are absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political Connection between them and the State of Great-Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do.

 Thomas Jefferson was its primary author, finalizing all revisions that were adopted by the 2nd Continental Congress on July 4th, 1776. It took almost a month for all 56 delegates to sign it.

We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness—-That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute a new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles, and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient Causes; and accordingly all Experience hath shewn, that Mankind are more disposed to suffer, while Evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the Forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long Train of Abuses and Usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a Design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is theirRight, it is their Duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future Security. Such has been the patient Sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the Necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The History of the Present King of Great-Britain is a History of repeated Injuries and Usurpations, all having in direct Object the Establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid World.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public Good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing Importance, unless suspended in their Operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the Accommodation of large Districts of People; unless those People would relinquish the Right of Representation in the Legislature, a Right inestimable to them, and formidable to Tyrants only.He has called together Legislative Bodies at Places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the Depository of their public Records, for the sole Purpose of fatiguing them into Compliance with his Measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly Firmness his Invasions on the Rights of the People.

He has refused for a long Time, after such Dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the Dangers of Invasion from without, and Convulsions within.He has endeavoured to prevent the Population of these States; for that Purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their Migrations hither, and raising the Conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the Tenure of their Offices, and Amount and Payment of their Salaries.

He has erected a Multitude of new Offices, and sent hither Swarms of Officers to harass our People, and eat out their Substance.

He has kept among us, in Times of Peace, Standing Armies, without the consent of our Legislature.

Whenever these partings happened, the traveler looked at the gentleman, and saw him glance up at the sky above the trees, where the day was beginning to decline, and the sunset to come on. He saw, too, that his hair was turning grey. But, they never could rest long, for they had their journey to perform, and it was necessary for them to be always busy.

At last, there had been so many partings that there were no children left, and only the traveler, the gentleman, and the lady, went upon their way in company. And now the wood was yellow; and now brown; and the leaves, even of the forest trees, began to fall.

So, they came to an avenue that was darker than the rest and were pressing forward on their journey without looking down it when the lady stopped.

"My husband," said the lady. "I am called."

They listened, and they heard a voice a long way down the avenue, say, "Mother, mother!"

It was the voice of the first child who had said, "I am going to Heaven!" and the father said, "I pray not yet. The sunset is very near. I pray not yet!"

But, the voice cried, "Mother, mother!" without minding him, though his hair was now quite white, and tears were on his face.

Then, the mother, who was already drawn into the shade of the dark avenue and moving away with her arms still round his neck, kissed him, and said, "My dearest, I am summoned, and I go!" And she was gone. And the traveler and he were left alone together.

And they went on and on together, until they came to very near the end of the wood: so near, that they could see the sunset shining red before them through the trees.

Yet, once more, while he broke his way among the branches, the traveler lost his friend. He called and called, but there was no reply, and when he passed out of the wood, and saw the peaceful sun going down upon a wide purple prospect, he came to an old man sitting on a fallen tree. So, he said to the old man, "What do you do here?" And the old man said with a calm smile, "I am always remembering. Come and remember with me!"

So the traveler sat down by the side of that old man, face to face with the serene sunset; and all his friends came softly back and stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy, the young man in love, the father, mother, and children: every one of them was there, and he had lost nothing. So, he loved them all, and was kind and forbearing with them all, and was always pleased to watch them all, and they all honored and loved him. And I think the traveler must be yourself, dear Grandfather, because this is what you do to us, and what we do to you.

Still, one day, in the midst of all these pleasures, the traveler lost the boy as he had lost the child, and, after calling to him in vain, went on upon his journey. So he went on for a little while without seeing anything, until at last he came to a young man. So, he said to the young man, "What do you do here?" And the young man said, "I am always in love. Come and love with me."

Still, one day, in the midst of all these pleasures, the traveller lost the boy as he had lost the child, and, after calling to him in vain, went on upon his journey. So he went on for a little while without seeing anything, until at last he came to a young man. So, he said to the young man, "What do you do here?" And the young man said, "I am always in love. Come and love with me."

So, he went away with that young man, and presently they came to one of the prettiest girls that ever was seen--just like Fanny in the corner there--and she had eyes like Fanny, and hair like Fanny, and dimples like Fanny's, and she laughed and colored just as Fanny does while I am talking about her. So, the young man fell in love directly--just as Somebody I won't mention, the first time he came here, did with Fanny. Well! he was teased sometimes--just as Somebody used to be by Fanny; and they quarreled sometimes--just as Somebody and Fanny used to quarrel; and they made it up, and sat in the dark, and wrote letters every day, and never were happy asunder, and were always looking out for one another and pretending not to, and were engaged at Christmas-time, and sat close to one another by the fire, and were going to be married very soon--all exactly like Somebody I won't mention, and Fanny!

But, the traveler lost them one day, as he had lost the rest of his friends, and, after calling to them to come back, which they never did, went on upon his journey. So, he went on for a little while without seeing anything, until at last he came to a middle-aged gentleman. So, he said to the gentleman, "What are you doing here?" And his answer was, "I am always busy. Come and be busy with me!"

So, he began to be very busy with that gentleman, and they went on through the wood together. The whole journey was through a wood, only it had been open and green at first, like a wood in spring; and now began to be thick and dark, like a wood in summer; some of the little trees that had come out earliest, were even turning brown. The gentleman was not alone, but had a lady of about the same age with him, who was his Wife; and they had children, who were with them too. So, they all went on together through the wood, cutting down the trees, and making a path through the branches and the fallen leaves, and carrying burdens, and working hard.

Sometimes, they came to a long green avenue that opened into deeper woods. Then they would hear a very little, distant voice crying, "Father, father, I am another child! Stop for me!" And presently they would see a very little figure, growing larger as it came along, running to join them. When it came up, they all crowded round it, and kissed and welcomed it; and then they all went on together.

Sometimes, they came to several avenues at once, and then they all stood still, and one of the children said, "Father, I am going to sea," and another said, "Father, I am going to India," and another, "Father, I am going to seek my fortune where I can," and another, "Father, I am going to Heaven!" So, with many tears at parting, they went, solitary, down those avenues, each child upon its way; and the child who went to Heaven, rose into the golden air and vanished.

Once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was a traveler, and he set out upon a journey. It was a magic journey, and was to seem very long when he began it, and very short when he got half way through.

Once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was a traveller, and he set out upon a journey. It was a magic journey, and was to seem very long when he began it, and very short when he got half way through.

He traveler along a rather dark path for some little time, without meeting anything, until at last he came to a beautiful child. So he said to the child, "What do you do here?" And the child said, "I am always at play. Come and play with me!"

So, he played with that child, the whole day long, and they were very merry. The sky was so blue, the sun was so bright, the water was so sparkling, the leaves were so green, the flowers were so lovely, and they heard such singing-birds and saw so many butterflies, that everything was beautiful. This was in fine weather. When it rained, they loved to watch the falling drops, and to smell the fresh scents. When it blew, it was delightful to listen to the wind, and fancy what it said, as it came rushing from its home-- where was that, they wondered!--whistling and howling, driving the clouds before it, bending the trees, rumbling in the chimneys, shaking the house, and making the sea roar in fury. But, when it snowed, that was best of all; for, they liked nothing so well as to look up at the white flakes falling fast and thick, like down from the breasts of millions of white birds; and to see how smooth and deep the drift was; and to listen to the hush upon the paths and roads.

They had plenty of the finest toys in the world, and the most astonishing picture-books: all about scimitars and slippers and turbans, and dwarfs and giants and genii and fairies, and blue-beards and bean-stalks and riches and caverns and forests and Valentines and Orsons: and all new and all true.

But, one day, of a sudden, the traveler lost the child. He called to him over and over again, but got no answer. So, he went upon his road, and went on for a little while without meeting anything, until at last he came to a handsome boy. So, he said to the boy, "What do you do here?" And the boy said, "I am always learning. Come and learn with me."

So he learned with that boy about Jupiter and Juno, and the Greeks and the Romans, and I don't know what, and learned more than I could tell--or he either, for he soon forgot a great deal of it. But, they were not always learning; they had the merriest games that ever were played. They rowed upon the river in summer, and skated on the ice in winter; they were active afoot, and active on horseback; at cricket, and all games at ball; at prisoner's base, hare and hounds, follow my leader, and more sports than I can think of; nobody could beat them. They had holidays too, and Twelfth cakes, and parties where they danced till midnight, and real Theaters where they saw palaces of real gold and silver rise out of the real earth, and saw all the wonders of the world at once. As to friends, they had such dear friends and so many of them, that I want the time to reckon them up. They were all young, like the handsome boy, and were never to be strange to one another all their lives through.

The Army Goes Rolling Along"

The Official Song of The United States Army

The current lyrics tell the story of the past, the present, and the future.

The song was originally written in 1908 by field artillery First Lieutenant [later Brigadier General] Edmund L. Gruber, while stationed in the Philippines as the "Caisson Song”.

In 1917 The song was transformed into a march by John Philip Sousa and renamed "The Field Artillery Song." It was adopted in 1956 as the official song of the Army and retitled, "The Army Goes Rolling Along.

Lyrics

March along, sing our song, with the Army of the free.

Count the brave, count the true, who have fought to victory.

We’re the Army and proud of our name!

We’re the Army and proudly proclaim:

First to fight for the right,

And to build the Nation’s might,

And The Army Goes Rolling Along.

Proud of all we have done,

Fighting till the battle’s won,

And the Army Goes Rolling Along.

Then it’s hi! hi! hey!

The Army’s on its way.

Count off the cadence loud and strong;

For wherever we go,

You will always know

That The Army Goes Rolling Along.

The Gift of the Magi

by O. Henry 

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped for long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise-shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men-who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.