&&000 CANADIAN SCHOOLBOOKS                                                                   CA503.TXT
GRADE 3   period = 1946 through 1959 (the '50s)
Samples in Toronto by dph 9-10 Dec 03
1sr edited by dph 19 Dec 2003
Re-edited 20 June 2005

&&111
"Oh!" cried one of the strangers, a woman in beautiful clothes. She was so frightened when she
saw the lobsters that she jumped up from her chair. Splash went the soup, the snails, and the
sauce all over =Ann and =Yvon from their heads to their wooden shoes.
The gentleman who was sitting beside the lady laughed and laughed.
"She hates lobsters as much as she ever did," he said, turning to =Mother.
By this time poor =Yvon had closed the basket on the two fighting lobsters, and =Ann had set it
outside the door.
For the next few minutes there was a great stir and chatter in the house. The floor and the table,
as well as =Ann and =Yvon, had to be cleaned, and breakfast had to be served all over again.
=Yvon couldn't imagine what it was all about. =Mother was chattering away to the visitors as if
she
had known them all her life. It was only when breakfast was over that he began to understand.
" Upon my word, =JimmySanders!' Mrs =Best went on, as she put the gooseberry tarts on a shelf.
"Stop this noise in a hurry or I'll give you a good ducking in the duck pond. I have never met
such a man before in all my life."
Maybe the noise stopped, and maybe it didn't. All I know is that Mrs Best didn't duck Mr
=Sanders in the duck pond. How could she?
Mr and Mrs =Sanders stayed a week in =Hastings-on-the-Green. Everywhere they event, the
children seemed to love to go with them. So they never again thought that the village was quiet
or lonely.
"I declare! It's every bit as noisy as =Friendly Village," said Mr =Sanders. "Every bit!"
The =ovak through the fog had made the children feet very cold. They stood about the stove in
the =zzzz . =Mac, his work well done, lay down by the warm red fire. Soon the children were on
the floor beside him.
"=Numpy may be the best dog in =Lapland," said one of the boys. "But =Mac is the best dog in
=England." I am sure everyone else thought so, too.
About teatime the fog began to lift. It went as suddenly as it had come. Everyone climbed into
the bus again with a last good-by to the dog and his master.
It was sundown when the =MysteryBus came to the place where =PearTreeLane crosses the
=King'sHighway.
"Goodbye! Gocdbye!" everyone called to t1he driver, as he drove away. But the giver just waved
his hand and said nothing. He was whistling another tantalizing tune.


=Carl came out of the house with his dinner bag full of bread and cheese. =Ola was through
milking. So =Carl started with the herd on the path to the hut.
The dog came slowly down the mountain. There was a smell in the air of food cooking. Nothing
in the world could smell so good to a homeless, hungry dog.
Halfway down he stopped once more. Many times he had looked down upon pastures just like
this. Many times he had followed the smell of food to kitchen doors. But there was always
someone to kick him and drive him away again.
Today he must try once more. He was hungry, oh, so hungry! His stub of a tail began to wag as
he started down again toward the old gray house.
Suddenly, from the mountains overhead, came a sound like a great storm. Then across the
mountaintops came a herd of reindeer-hundreds of them.
And now the seventeenth of May was at hand, and the cows were to be let out for the first time.
=Carl and the others were up early that morning. It was almost as if they had a bell inside them
that got them all out of bed at the same minute.
The sun was coming into the house through many windows. The children ran out into the bright
morning. All four of them were happy. So very, very happy!
The cows were to be put into the pasture with the fence around it where they could run around
and kick up their heels. Then they would get over their wild feelings before they were let out into
the woods, grazing for themselves.
The two girls found a safe place by the corner of the barn. There they stood, jumping up and
down because everything was so exciting. But the two boys were right out in the middle of
things.
Of all the pictures in his big box, there was only one that Mr =Sanders didn't care much about. It
was a picture of a man riding across the desert on a big long-legged camel.
That picture was the one the boys and girls liked best of all.
"If I were going across the ocean, that is the first place I'd go to," said =Jerry.
"That's where I'd go, and that's where I'd stay," said =Paddy. "And I'd ride the camel every day in
the week."
But talk all they would, Mr =Sanders didn't think camel riding would be fun.
"Fun! You rascals!" he used to say. "What fun could there be in that? Of course, I'm never going!
But if I ever do go across the ocean, I will keep away from that place."
But Mr =Sanders was just like everyone else. He never could tell what he would do until the time
came.


Sometimes we hate to do the things we must do. But if something happens so that we can't do
them after all, then we want very much to do the things we hated.
Mr =Sanders did not want to ride that camel. But when it looked as if he would never get very far
off the ground, he wanted that camel to stand up more than anything else he could think of.
Suddenly he remembered the sad-eyed horse he used to drive through =FriendlyVillage. So he
started slapping the camel on the neck and saying, "Stop this nonsense! Get up there! Get up!"
And do you know? The camel looked around as if to say, "Oh, it's you on my back, is it? Sorry I
kept you waiting."
Up went the camel's long back legs. Forward went Mr =Sanders almost over the camel's head.
Then up went the camel's front legs. And there was Mr =Sanders high up on the camel's back'.'



Something walking back and forth in front of you is sure to put ideas into your head. That is just
what the camel did to Mr =Sanders.
"I wonder if there is anyone in =Africa who takes pictures? " he thought, after a while. "I might
get off the boat long enough to have my picture taken with that camel. She looks quiet enough.
Of course, I'd never get on her. I'd just stand by her side. Wouldn't some mischief-makers I know
in =FriendlyVillage enjoy that picture?"
The more Mr =Sanders thought about the picture, the less he thought about the heat. I really
believe he wanted to go with Mrs =Sanders and Mr =Wells when they left the boat. If they would
only beg him hard enough, it would give him a reason for changing his mind.
But the joke was on Mr =Sanders. They didn't beg him at all.



I could not count the different places to which =Carlos took the travelers.
"You choose the places, and we will follow," said Mr =Wells.
So forward on dancing feet went =Carlos to one interesting place and then another. Only at the
shop of =Jose did the travelers stay for a long time.
They walked about among  the glue pots and the piles of sweet-smelling wood. They handled the
tools of queer shapes and queerer uses. They stopped to watch Jose stretch the strings. across the
bridge of a guitar.
They stayed long enough to hear the story of =Manuel, the great instrument maker, and of how
Jose won the prize at the great music festival in =Madrid.
But the greatest enjoyment came when =Jose started to pluck the strings of an old guitar. Then he
played for them an old melody of the hills.

The goat cocked her head on one side, a wise look in her eye.
"Food, you foolish one," she seemed to say. "Food is worth a hundred candles."
But =Carlos, interested in his own thoughts, did not even  notice the look.
"So you see, =Rosita, I was in great trouble," =Carlos continued. "But what is trouble like this to
a grandfather like mine? He can blow trouble away like leaves before the east wind.
"'Take =Rosita, the best goat in my herd,' he said. A =Spanish ship is coming into the harbor.
Stand on shore and call, "Sailors of =Spain, you want milk for your breakfast coffee. The
sweetest milk in the land! So let us come on deck, =Carlos and his goat, =Rosita!"'
"It is a wise idea, =Rosita. Sailors home from the sea have their pockets full of money. In return
for your good milk, they will give us the little dogs."


A bench stood in the front window of the shop. There =Manuel would place the finished guitar
where the light from the open window could fall upon it.
As- the master looked down upon the bench, it was not just a finished guitar which lay there, but
something more.
Now the master's hand would reach out to pluck one string and then another. In tune, every one!
Then, as if it were something he had grown to love in the long days he had worked upon it, the
master would take the guitar carefully in his hands.
"A song for you, my little one," he would say, "for what is a guitar without a song?"
At times there were no words, just a lilting, fairylike melody full of joy and =Spanish sunshine.
At other times it was a dreamy song of the hills, like the ones that =Jose's father loved to sing.
The next morning =Mother and =FishermanJack were on their way home. Mr and Mrs =Sanders
were going to stay in =Concarneau for a day or two and then travel with Mr =Wells until it was
time to sail for home.
=Mother rode with =FishermanJack in his cart. But =Ann and =Yvon rode the horse. =Ann sat
behind =Yvon with her arms around him, holding tight. Her white cap waved in the breeze like a
big white butterfly.
"Do you know, =Yvon?" she whispered. "Someday you will be a great fisherman."
"Someday!" replied =Yvon, tossing his head in the air. " I am right now."
Then on they went. Their wooden shoes bumped against the horse's sides, but the horse didn't
mind. The ribbons on =Yvon's hat floated back in the breeze and tickled =Ann on the nose, but
she didn't mind. They were all so glad to be going home safe and sound so early on an August
morning!


When they walked into the big tent, everything was very still. "The =BigTop" looked much,
much bigger than when it was full of animals and people.
"Were there really three rings? Were they all full of clowns and animals and circus people doing
their tricks at the same time?" asked =Bobby.
"Yes, this is a real three-ring circus," said Mr =Pool. "See what you missed by having the
measles?"
They walked on through "The =BigTop" to another tent, and there Mr =Pool stopped.
"May we come in?" he called.
="Ting-a-ling! Ring the bell, bring me a big piece of pie, and sing me a song," called a funny
little voice.
"I have no pie," laughed Mr =Pool, "and I can't sing a song. You know I can't."
"Can't sing a song? Why, I thought you were a bird. I thought you were a nightingale," said the
funny little voice.
How =Bobby laughed at Uncle =Andrew!
"I don't care, now that you are here," said =Bobby. "It was not so bad having the measles.
Everyone was good to me. But I didn't see the circus. That is what I call bad luck."
"Circus! Don't tell me that you had the measles when the circus came to town," said Uncle
=Andrew.
=Bobby had to say, "Yes." Even with Uncle =Andrew around, he didn't feel happy about that.
"Didn't even see the parade," he said with his head down.
"Well, of all things! What do you know about that?" said Uncle =Andrew.
"I know just how he feels," said Miss =Lizzie. "Old as I am, I like a circus. I would walk miles to
see one this very minute." 
A year had twelve months. Each month had four weeks. Each week had seven days. Right there
=Bobby stopped. He couldn't let himself think of all the days and weeks and months that must go
by before the circus came again.
He was so hot that he was almost baked. He wanted to pull everything off the bed and stick his
head out of the open window. But =Mother had told him to be sure to keep covered up.
"I will cook if I stay here another minute," thought =Bobby. "Just cook!"
Then he did something that he didn't want to do at all. He couldn't help it. You would have done
the same thing if you had been there. He cried. But he crawled down under the blanket so that no
one would know but himself.
I guess he cried until he grew sleepy. When =Mother came back, she thought he was hiding
under the blanket. But he was not hiding. He was fast asleep.


No, she didn't think =Patches was the smartest dog in the world because he went into the river
after an old stick.
No, Miss =Lizzie would not go down to the river to see a good-for-nothing dog do a silly trick
like that. And that was the end of it.
When anyone is as cross as Miss =Lizzie was, the only thing to do is to get out of the way as fast
as you can. "Don't you care, =Patches," said =Billy, as he started out of the gate on the run. "I will
get my fish line, and we will go straight back to the river. I will watch you do your trick, even if
Miss =Lizzie won't come."



"Do you think so?" asked Miss =Lizzie, and she went right on working. "It is about a dog. I sang
that song when I was a girl. I have been thinking about dogs ' all morning. I guess that is why that
old song ran through my head."
"Why have you been thinking about dogs?" asked =Billy.
"Because I think I will have to have one," said Miss =Lizzie.
"Have to have a dog?" asked =Billy. He couldn't believe that Miss =Lizzie had really said that.
"Yes," said Miss =Lizzie. "I heard something in my garden last night. Even in =FriendlyVillage it
isn't safe for an old lady like me to live alone without a watchdog. I have been thinking about
getting a dog for a long time. But I never get around to do it."
"What kind of dog do you want?" =Billy asked next.
For a minute =Jim thought he could never stay on that pony's back, but he did. He had a good
hold on the lines, and he went on holding to the saddle with his knees as hard as he could. In
another minute =Bang was walking along as if nothing had happened.
=Jim was so surprised that he could hardly sit in the saddle. Had =Bang really bucked? If he had,
it was not so bad, after all. But what had made him buck? The rabbit? Was that it? The rabbit
was not a sign, and =Joe said that =Bang would not buck without the sign. Then =Jim
remembered his knee. Could that be it? Oh, oh, oh! Suppose he had found the sign!
I suppose you think that =Jim went dashing back to the barn to tell =Jack all about it. Well, he
didn't. There was only one thought in his head.


Then one morning the postman gave =Jim a letter, a letter from =Joe. In four weeks =Joe would
be home. If =Jim could ride well enough-and =Joe knew that he could, =Joe might show him the
sign. So =Jim was to say "Hello" to =Bang for =Joe, and ride and ride and ride.
=Jim did not show that letter to anyone, not even to =Mother. He put it into his pocket. Every
time
he was alone, he pulled it out and looked at it once more. Every time he opened it, he wished that
he could ride =Bang. Oh, how he wished that he could ride =Bang! Only four weeks! What was
he going to do?


"And now let me tell you something, boys," =Joe went on. "Keep away from this pony.
Remember that! Don't let me catch you trying to ride him. Do you understand?"
And just from the way =Joe said it, the boys understood.
In the days and weeks that followed, all that the boys could talk about was =Joe and the bucking
pony.
And the sign! The boys never gave up trying to find out about that. Every time =Bang bucked,
they thought they had it. But they didn't.
"What do you want to know for, anyway?" asked Joe, with a smile on his face and a twinkle in
his eye. "=Bang knows, and I know, but we are not telling."
So there it ended.

My Big Brother
Some boys like to talk about their dogs. Some boys like to talk about cowboys and =Indians and
things like that. But =JimWinters didn't. He liked to talk about his big brother.
The minute =Jim moved to =WhiteFenceFarm, he started to talk about =Joe.
=WhiteFenceFarm was on the way from Miss =Lizzie's house to the =BigWoods. As soon as
=Jerry and the other boys heard that someone new was coming to live there, they remembered
that they had to go to the woods right away. So they started off on the run.