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Mr. and Mrs. Mallard were looking for a place to live. But every time Mr.Mallard saw what looked like a mice place, Mrs.Mallard said it was no good. There were sure to be foxes in the woods or turtles in the water, and she was not going to raise a family where there might be foxes or turtles. So the flew on and on.
When they got to Boston, they felt too tired to fly any further. There was a nice pond in the Public Garden, with a little island on it. “The very place to spend the night, “quacked Mr.Mallard. So down they flapped.
Next morning, they fished for their breakfast in the mud at the bottom of the pond. But they didn’t find much.
When they got to Boston, they felt too tired to fly any further. There was a nice pond in the Public Garden, with a little island on it. “The very place to spend the night, “quacked Mr.Mallard. So down they flapped.
Next morning, they fished for their breakfast in the mud at the bottom of the pond. But they didn’t find much.
“Look out!” squawked Mrs. Mallard, all of a dither. “You’ll get run over!” And when she got her breath she added:”This is no place for babies, with all those horrid things rushing about. We’ll have to look somewhere else.”
So they flew over Beacon Hill and round the State House, but there was no place there.
They looked in Louisburg Square, but there was no water to swim in.
Then they flew over Charles River. “This is better,” quacked Mr. Mallard. “That island looks like a nice quiet place, and it’s only a little way from the Public Garden.” “Yes,” said Mrs. Mallard, remembering the peanuts. “That looks like just the right place to hatch ducklings. ”
So they chose a cozy spot among the bushes near the water and settled down to build their nest. And only just in time, for now they were beginning to molt. All their old wing feathers started to drop out, and they would not be able to fly again until the new ones grew in.
So they flew over Beacon Hill and round the State House, but there was no place there.
They looked in Louisburg Square, but there was no water to swim in.
Then they flew over Charles River. “This is better,” quacked Mr. Mallard. “That island looks like a nice quiet place, and it’s only a little way from the Public Garden.” “Yes,” said Mrs. Mallard, remembering the peanuts. “That looks like just the right place to hatch ducklings. ”
So they chose a cozy spot among the bushes near the water and settled down to build their nest. And only just in time, for now they were beginning to molt. All their old wing feathers started to drop out, and they would not be able to fly again until the new ones grew in.
One day Mr. Mallard decided he’d like to take a trip to see what the rest of the river was like, further on. So off he set. “I’ll meet you in a week, in the Publice Garden,” he quacked over his shoulder. “Take good care of the ducklings.”
“Don’t you worry,” said Mrs. Mallard. “I know all about bringing up children.” And she did.
She taught them how to swim and dive.
She taught them to walk in a line, to come when they were called, and to keep a safe distance from bike and scooters and other things with wheels.
When a last she felt perfectly satisfied with them, she said one morning:” Come along, children. Follow me.”
“Don’t you worry,” said Mrs. Mallard. “I know all about bringing up children.” And she did.
She taught them how to swim and dive.
She taught them to walk in a line, to come when they were called, and to keep a safe distance from bike and scooters and other things with wheels.
When a last she felt perfectly satisfied with them, she said one morning:” Come along, children. Follow me.”
Little Sal hurried ahead and dropped a blueberry in her mother’s pail. It didn’t sound kuplink! because the bottom of the pail was already covered with berries. She reached down inside to get her berry back. Though she really didn’t mean to, she pulled out a large handful, because there were so many berries right up close to the one she had put in.
Her mother stopped picking and said, “Now, Sal, you run along and pick your own berries. Mother wants to take her berries home and can them for next winter.”
Her mother went back to her picking, but Little Sal, because her feet were tired of standing and walking, sat down in the middle of a large clump of bushes and ate blueberries.
On the other side of Blueberry Hill, Little Bear came with her mother to eat blueberries.
“Little Bear,” she said,”eat lots of berries and grow big and fat. We must store up food for the long, cold winter.”
Her mother stopped picking and said, “Now, Sal, you run along and pick your own berries. Mother wants to take her berries home and can them for next winter.”
Her mother went back to her picking, but Little Sal, because her feet were tired of standing and walking, sat down in the middle of a large clump of bushes and ate blueberries.
On the other side of Blueberry Hill, Little Bear came with her mother to eat blueberries.
“Little Bear,” she said,”eat lots of berries and grow big and fat. We must store up food for the long, cold winter.”
Little Bear followed behind his mother as she walked slowly through the bushes eating berries. Little Bear stopped now and then to eat berries.
Then he had to hustle along to catch up.
Because his feet were tired of hustling, he picked out a large clump of bushes and sat down right in the middle and ate blueberries.
Over on the other side of the hill, Little Sal ate all of the berries she could reach from where she was sitting, then she started out to find her mother.
She heard a noise from around a rock and thought, “That is my mother walking along!’
But it was a mother crow and her children, and they stopped eating berries and flew away, saying ,” Caw,Caw,Caw.” The she heard another noise in the bushes and thought, “That is surely my mother and I will go that way.”
Then he had to hustle along to catch up.
Because his feet were tired of hustling, he picked out a large clump of bushes and sat down right in the middle and ate blueberries.
Over on the other side of the hill, Little Sal ate all of the berries she could reach from where she was sitting, then she started out to find her mother.
She heard a noise from around a rock and thought, “That is my mother walking along!’
But it was a mother crow and her children, and they stopped eating berries and flew away, saying ,” Caw,Caw,Caw.” The she heard another noise in the bushes and thought, “That is surely my mother and I will go that way.”
But it was Little Bear’s mother instead. She was tramping along, eating berries, and thinking about storing up food for the winter. Little Sal tramped right along behind.
By this time, Little Bear had eaten all the berries he could reach without moving from his clump of bushes. Then he hustled off to catch up with his mother. He hunted and hunted but his mother was nowhere to be seen. He heard a noise from over a stump and thought, “That is my mother walking along.”
But it was a mother partridge and her children. They stopped eating berries and hurried away. Then he heard a noise in the bushes and thought, “That is surely my mother. I will hustle that way!”
But it was Little Sal’s mother instead! She was walking along, picking berries, and thinking about canning them for next winter. Little Bear hustled right along behind.
By this time, Little Bear had eaten all the berries he could reach without moving from his clump of bushes. Then he hustled off to catch up with his mother. He hunted and hunted but his mother was nowhere to be seen. He heard a noise from over a stump and thought, “That is my mother walking along.”
But it was a mother partridge and her children. They stopped eating berries and hurried away. Then he heard a noise in the bushes and thought, “That is surely my mother. I will hustle that way!”
But it was Little Sal’s mother instead! She was walking along, picking berries, and thinking about canning them for next winter. Little Bear hustled right along behind.
Little Bear and Little Sal’s mother and Little Sal and Little Bear’s mother were all mixed up with each other among the blueberries on Blueberry Hill.
Little Bear’s mother heard Sal walking along behind and thought it was Little Bear and she said, “Little Bear,” munch, munch, “Eat all you- “ gulp, “can possibly hold!” swallow.Little Sal said nothing. She picked three berries and dropped them, kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk, in her small tin pail.
Little Bear’s mother turned around to see what on earth could make a noise like
kuplunk!
“Garumpf!” She cried, chocking on a mouthful of berries, “This is not my child! Where is Little Bear?” She took one good look and backed away. (She was old enough to be shy of people, even a very small person like Little Sal,)Then she turned
around and walked off very fast to hunt for Little Bear.
Little Bear’s mother heard Sal walking along behind and thought it was Little Bear and she said, “Little Bear,” munch, munch, “Eat all you- “ gulp, “can possibly hold!” swallow.Little Sal said nothing. She picked three berries and dropped them, kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk, in her small tin pail.
Little Bear’s mother turned around to see what on earth could make a noise like
kuplunk!
“Garumpf!” She cried, chocking on a mouthful of berries, “This is not my child! Where is Little Bear?” She took one good look and backed away. (She was old enough to be shy of people, even a very small person like Little Sal,)Then she turned
around and walked off very fast to hunt for Little Bear.
Little Sal’s mother heard Little Bear tramping along behind and thought it was
Little Sal. She kept right on picking and thinking about canning blueberries
for next winter.
Little Bear padded up and peeked into her pail. Of course, he only wanted to
taste a few of what was inside, but there were so many and they were so close
together, that he tasted a Tremendous Mouthful by mistake. “Now, Sal,” said
Little Sal’s mother without turning around,”you run along and pick your own
berries. Mother wants to can those for next winter.” Little Bear tasted another
Tremendous Mouthful, and almost spilled the entire pail of blueberries!
Little Sal’s mother turned around and gasped, “My Goodness, you are not
Little Sal! Where, Oh where, is my child?”
Little Sal. She kept right on picking and thinking about canning blueberries
for next winter.
Little Bear padded up and peeked into her pail. Of course, he only wanted to
taste a few of what was inside, but there were so many and they were so close
together, that he tasted a Tremendous Mouthful by mistake. “Now, Sal,” said
Little Sal’s mother without turning around,”you run along and pick your own
berries. Mother wants to can those for next winter.” Little Bear tasted another
Tremendous Mouthful, and almost spilled the entire pail of blueberries!
Little Sal’s mother turned around and gasped, “My Goodness, you are not
Little Sal! Where, Oh where, is my child?”
Little Bear just sat munching and munching and swallowing and licking his lips.
Little Sal’s mother slowly back away. (She was old enough to be shy of bears,
even very small bears like Little Bear.) Then she turned and walked away
quickly to look for Little Sal.
She hadn’t gone very far before she heard a kuplink! Kuplank! Kuplunk! She
knew just what made that kind of a noise.
Little Bear’s mother had not hunted very long before she heard a hustling
sound that stopped now and then to munch and swallow. She knew just what made
that kind of a noise.
Little Bear and his mother went home down one side of Blueberry Hill, eating
blueberries al the way, and full of food stored up for next winter.
And Little Sal and her mother went down the other side of Blueberry Hill,
picking berries all the way, and drove home with food to can for next winter-a
whole pail of blueberries and three more besides.
Little Sal’s mother slowly back away. (She was old enough to be shy of bears,
even very small bears like Little Bear.) Then she turned and walked away
quickly to look for Little Sal.
She hadn’t gone very far before she heard a kuplink! Kuplank! Kuplunk! She
knew just what made that kind of a noise.
Little Bear’s mother had not hunted very long before she heard a hustling
sound that stopped now and then to munch and swallow. She knew just what made
that kind of a noise.
Little Bear and his mother went home down one side of Blueberry Hill, eating
blueberries al the way, and full of food stored up for next winter.
And Little Sal and her mother went down the other side of Blueberry Hill,
picking berries all the way, and drove home with food to can for next winter-a
whole pail of blueberries and three more besides.
