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posted by hornean
With a mournful moan and silken tone,
Itself alone comes ONE TROMBONE.
Gliding, sliding, high notes go low;
ONE trombón, trombone is playing SOLO.

Next, a TRUMPET comes along,
And sings and stings its swinging song.
It joins TROMBONE, no más alone,
And ONE and TWO-O, they’re a DUO.

Fine FRENCH HORN, its valves all oiled,
Bright and brassy, loops all coiled,
Golden yellow; joins its fellows.
TWO, now THREE-O, what a TRIO!

Now, a mellow friend, the CELLO,
Neck extended, bows a “hello”;
End pin set upon the floor,
It makes up a QUARTET—that’s FOUR.

And soaring high and moving in,
With ZIN! ZIN! ZIN! a VIOLIN,
Stroking strings that come alive;
Now QUINTET. Let’s count them: FIVE.

FLUTE, that sends our soul a-shiver;
FLUTE, that slender, silver sliver.
A place among the set it picks
To make a young SEXTET—that’s SIX.

With steely keys that softly click,
Its breezy notes so darkly slick,
A sleek, black, woody CLARINET
Is number SEVEN—now SEPTET.

Gleeful, bleating, sobbing, pleading,
Through its throbbing double-reeding;
OBOE, please don’t hesitate:
Come, make it an OCTET—that’s EIGHT.

That lazy clown, the big BASSOON!
He plays low down, we’re laughing soon.
Here, Grumpy, get your place in line,
And give us a NONET—that’s NINE.

The HARP descends with angel’s wings,
A heaven’s blend through magic strings,
And when it joins the others, then
Behold! A CHAMBER GROUP of TEN.

The ORCHESTRA comes in the hall,
They’re on the stage; we see them all:
The CELLO, HARP, and CLARINET,
The TRUMPET, whom we’ve also met,
The OBOE, FLUTE, and big BASSOON,
All eager to get started soon.
TROMBONE, FRENCH HORN, and VIOLIN,
All poised and ready. Now, begin!

The STRINGS all soar, the REEDS implore,
The BRASSES roar with notes galore.
It’s música that we all adore.
It’s what we go to concerts for.

The minutos fly, the música ends,
And so, good-bye to our new friends.
But when they’ve bowed and left the floor,
If we clap loud and shout, “Encore!”
They may come out and play once more.

And that would give us great delight
Before we say a late good night.
added by hornean
posted by hornean
Run outside to play in the warm summer sun where the césped, hierba grows tall and sunflowers fill the fields.

Baby bears play just like you.
They grow fat and round on fresh summer césped, hierba and learn to catch their first pescado cena down por the riverbank.
Summer is time to learn and to grow.

Baby mountain oveja learn the safest path to summer meadows. ansarino, gosling wings grow stronger, their voices louder.

Up in the trees, the songs of spring suddenly soften. curruca, reinita mothers and curruca, reinita fathers, busy feeding their young, have little time to sing. Hummingbirds sip nectar for themselves and catch bugs for their tiny...
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added by hornean
posted by hornean
“It’s there! It’s really there!”
The rotting hull of a ship has been found on the ocean floor. Within the wreck lies a fabulous treasure.

The story of each underwater treasure hunt is different, but each goes back to the same beginning…the sinking of a ship. The story of the hunt for the Nuestra Señora de Atocha, a Spanish galleon, begins the same way.

THE ATOCHA
The Sinking

It is 1622. The Atocha with its fleet of sister ships, makes its way back from South America to Spain. The Atocha is a treasure ship, laden with gold, jewels, silver bars, and thousands of coins.
The fleet makes a...
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posted by hornean
“Good morning,” dicho Wilbur.
“You’re late,” grumbled the director.
Wilbur had only ten minutos to get made up, go to Wardrobe, and finish learning his lines.

“Hold still,” dicho Maxine, the makeup woman. “I have to make tu look strong and smart. It isn’t easy, tu know!” she joked.
With practiced skill, the Wardrobe Department transformed Wilbur into the Bionic Bunny.
First they snapped on his costume with the built-in muscles.
They tied his bionic sneakers, which made him taller.
They strapped on his bionic wristwatcher, which supposedly let him see anything anywhere.
Finally,...
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WINTER MORNING
por Ogden Nash

Winter is the king of showmen,
Turning árbol stumps into snow men
And houses into birthday cakes
And spreading sugar over the lakes.
Smooth and clean and frost white
The world looks good enough to bite.
That’s the season to be young,
Catching snowflakes on your tongue.

Snow is snowy when it’s snowing
I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.


SNOW
por Karla Kuskin

We’ll play in the snow
And stray in the snow
And stay in the snow
In a snow-white park.
We’ll clown in the snow
And frown in the snow
Fall down in the snow
Till it’s after dark.
We’ll cook snow pies
In a big snow pan.
We’ll make snow eyes
In a round snow man.
We’ll sing snow songs
And chant snow chants
And roll in the snow
In our fat snow pants.
And when it’s time to go inicial to eat
We’ll have snow toes
On our frosted feet.
posted by hornean
WATCH ME ON THE WING

Sweeper: the deeper I can play
the faster I can lay
out my traps for their fullback
moving too close to mid field.
I shine along the sidelines
from mid field
back to our goal.

I am the quickest,
sharpest,
most intelligent,
(and
most modest,) player on
my
team:
in this league.

I have the
superspeed:
I have the need to do a little
more
than play only one position. I
defend. I score. I run lik
wind
across the maíz fields of
this
town.
I am a brown tornado on a
muddy
day.
The opposition knows
I come to play with
all I bring. They
watch:

watch me on the wing.


SWEET

You are at the line. tu take a deep breath....
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In Ms. Frizzle’s class, we had been learning about animals’ homes for almost a month. We were pretty tired of it.
So everyone was happy when Ms. Frizzle announced, “Today we start something new.”

"We are going to study about our earth!" dicho Ms. Frizzle. She put us to work escritura reports about earth science.
“And for homework,” she said, “each person must find a rock and bring it to school."

But the siguiente day, almost everyone had some excuse.

Only four people had done their homework. And Phil was the only one who had found a real rock.

“I guess we’ll have to go on a field trip and...
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posted by hornean
Lolly, araña and Sam had a picnic on the beach.
“I’m as full as a tick,” dicho Lolly.
“Me too,” dicho Sam.
“Hot perros and limonada always hit the spot.”

“Now for a swim,” dicho Spider.
“Oh, no,” dicho Lolly.
“Not so soon after lunch.”
“Rats,” dicho Spider.

“How about a nap?” asked Sam.
“Oh, no,” dicho the others.
“Naps are no fun at all.”
“Very true,” dicho Sam.

“Want to hear a story?” asked Lolly.
“I brought along my reader.”
“A fine idea,” dicho her friends.
“Then let’s begin,” dicho Lolly.

LOLLY’S STORY

The rata saw the cat and the dog.
“I see them,”...
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added by hornean
Hermit cangrejo was forever growing too big for the house on his back.

It was time to find a new house. He crawled up out of the water looking for something to hide in, where he would be seguro from the pricklepine fish.
He stepped along the shore, por the sea, in the sand...
scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch

...until he came to a rock.
Is this a house for Hermit Crab?
Turning himself around, Hermit cangrejo backed his hind legs beneath the rock. The rock would not budge. It was too heavy.
So he stepped along the shore, por the sea, in the sand...
scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch

...until he came to a rusty old...
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added by hornean
posted by hornean
When Ludlow was born, everyone immediately noticed this shape:



It wasn’t a cute little dimple.
It wasn’t an adorable nose.


And as the rest of him grew and developed and changed
IT DIDN’T.
It only opened for food, an occasional Burp! and plenty of grumbling.


Ludlow worked in a complaint department.


At the end of the day, he felt grumpier than ever.
Night after night he came home, grumbling and growling, and went to bed,
But one night something happened.


Ludlow had a dream.
Not just any dream—THE FUNNIEST DREAM IN THE WORLD!!!
(Ludlow: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!)
He giggled. He guffawed....
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posted by hornean
This morning I asked Mom, “Why can’t I have a dog?”
“Not now,” she said. “Not again.”
And not to bother her when she’s busy.

So I asked Daddy, “Why can’t I have a dog? Last año tu dicho I could have one when I was bigger. And I’m a lot bigger, see? So why not now?”

“Because of tight times,” dicho Daddy. He dicho I was too little to understand.
“I’m not too little,” I said.
Daddy dicho he’d give me a shoulder ride and tell me all about it at breakfast.

He dicho tight times are when everything keeps going up.
I had a balloon that did that once.
Daddy dicho tight times are...
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posted by hornean
This is Arthur before he got glasses.
He looked fine, but he couldn’t see very well.
Sometimes he got headaches.

Arthur had to hold his book so close that his nose got in the way.
He couldn’t see the board.
Francine had to read Arthur the problems.
“Are tu blind?” she always asked.
Francine got every problem right.
Arthur didn’t.

No one wanted to play with Arthur.

Arthur’s father and mother took him to the optometrist.
Dr. Iris tested Arthur’s eyes.
“You need glasses,” dicho Dr. Iris.

Arthur tried on all kinds of frames.
He chose the ones he liked best.
“You look very handsome in your...
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posted by hornean
One Friday Miss Nelson told her class that she was going to have her tonsils out.
“I’ll be away siguiente week,” she said. “And I expect tu to behave.”
“Yess, Miss Nelson,” dicho the kids in 207.

But at recess it was another story.
“Wow!” dicho the kids. “While Miss Nelson is away, we can really act up!”
“Not so fast!” dicho a big kid from 309. “Haven’t tu heard of Viola Swamp?”
“Who?” dicho Miss Nelson’s kids.

“Miss Swamp is the meanest substitute teacher in the whole world,” dicho the big kid. “Nobody acts up when she’s around.”
“Oooh,” dicho Miss Nelson’s...
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posted by hornean
In a warm and sultry forest far, far away, there once lived a mother frutas bat and her new baby.
Oh, how Mother Bat loved her soft tiny baby. “I’ll name tu Stellaluna,” she crooned.
Each night, Mother Bat would carry Stellaluna clutched to her breast as she flew out to buscar for food.

One night, as Mother Bat followed the heavy scent of ripe fruit, an owl spied her. On silent wings the powerful bird swooped down upon the bats.
Dodging and shrieking, Mother Bat tried to escape, but the owl struck again and again, knocking Stellaluna into the air. Her baby wings were as limp and useless as...
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added by hornean