Picking Apples

The Williams House; Chapter 2: The Start of School; Pgs. 35-37

.     Meanwhile, Susan and Maria had been sent out to pick some honeysuckle apples from their orchards. They first had gone into a barn to pick up two metal pronged rakes. The barn was a huge structure with several floors and a couple rickety ladders that led up to them. But only Will, Ann, and Lilly were allowed to go up there, and that was only when a parent was with them.
.     Then Susan led Maria out of the barn and down the path that led around the side of the house to the orchard, which soon spread into full view. Sunlight was spilling down the branches and resting in several patches on the ground. The dew was thick, and both girls’ feet were already soaked.
.     “Are these the apples?” asked Maria.
.     “Yes,” said Susan, “but we have to be careful which ones you pick. Hold up the rake, like this.” She demonstrated how and showed Maria how to rake lightly enough to let the ripe apples fall while still leaving the immature apples on the trees.
.     Before long, apples were raining down all around the girls’ heads, and they were both laughing heartily as they ran through the trees and picked up their prizes.
.     “I have 16,” Susan announced.
.     “How many do I have?” asked Maria, who, being four years old, was still uncertain of her numbers. She trotted over to where Susan was, barely able to lug the bucket she was carrying along with her.
.     “You have nine,” said Susan, who had learned to count that very summer (Margaret had taught her). “That should be enough for today. Let’s carry these back inside.”
.     They both hauled their buckets down the path to the back door. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, and the night air was finally replaced by the morning warmth. The path they both walked on was paved with brick, and both their shoes trotted over it and left wet footprints behind.

Children’s Hour

‘Tis been a while since Conservative Cornerstones has posted a selection of its favorite children’s rhymes. I hope you enjoy!

Travel

The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.

All night there isn’t a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.

My heart is warm with the friends I make,
And better friends I’ll not be knowing,
Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,
No matter where it’s going.
~Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sea Fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go donw to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and th esea gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
~John Masefield

A Windy Day

Have you been at sea on a windy day
When the water’s blue
And the sky is too,
And showers of spray
Come sweeping the decks
And the sea is dotted
With little flecks
Of foam, like daisies gay;

When there’s salt on your lips,
In your eyes and hair,
And you watch other ships
Go riding there?
Sailors are happy,
And birds fly low
To see how close they can safely go
To the waves as they heave and roll.

Then, wheeling, they soar
Mounting up to the sky,
Where billowy clouds
Go floating by!
Oh, there’s fun for you
And there’s fun for me
At sea
On a windy day!
~Winifred Howard

They That Go Down to the Sea

They that go down to the sea in ships,
That do business in great waters;
These see the works of the Lord,
And his wonders in the deep.
~The Bible: from Psalm 107

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Joshua Reynolds on Conservative Cornerstones – Author of Children’s Books, Young Adult, Historical Fiction / Family Stories – Finding Conservative Thought in Olde Books. Check out my Authoring Conservatism Post. Look up my two books, The Williams House and Treasure on the Southern Moor in my bookstore!

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Children’s Hour

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Swallow Tails

I lie in the hay,
And watch the way
The swallows fly out and in all day.
From the hay on the floor,
The live-long day,
I watch the way
They swoop in and out through the old barn door.

In their nests of clay,
I hear them say
Whatever they say to the little ones there.
They twitter and cheep,
For that is the way,
Whatever they say,
The swallows put their children – and me – to sleep.
~Tom Robinson

The Brown Thrush

There’s a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree,
He’s singing to me! He’s singing to me!
And what does he say, little girl, little boy?
“Oh, the world’s running over with joy!
Don’t you hear? Don’t you see?
Hush! Look! In my tree,
I’m as happy as happy can be!”

And the brown thrush keeps singing, “A nest do you see,
And five eggs hid by me in the juniper tree?
Don’t meddle! Don’t touch, little girl, little boy,
Or the world will lose some of its joy!
Now I’m glad! Now I’m free!
And I always shall be,
If you never bring sorrow to me.”

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree,
To you and to me, to you and to me;
And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy,
“Oh, the world’s running over with joy!
But long it won’t be,
Don’t you know? Don’t you see?
Unless we’re as good as can be!”
~Lucy Larcorn

The Woodpecker

The woodpecker pecked out a little round hole
And made him a house in the telephone pole.
One day when I watched he poked out his head,
And he had on a hood and a collar of red.

When the streams of rain pour out of the sky,
And the sparkles of lightning go flashing by,
And the big, big wheels of thunder roll,
He can snuggle back in the telephone pole.
~Elizabeth Madox Roberts

The Night Will Never Stay

The night will never stay,
The night will still go by,
Though with a million stars
You pin it to the sky;

Though you bind it with the blowing wind
And buckle it with the moon,
The night will slip away
Like sorrow or a tune.
~Eleanor Farjeon

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Joshua Reynolds on Conservative Cornerstones – Author of Children’s Books, Young Adult, Historical Fiction / Family Stories – Finding Conservative Thought in Olde Books. Check out my Authoring Conservatism Post. Look up my two books, The Williams House and Treasure on the Southern Moor in my bookstore!

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Children’s Hour

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Grasshopper Green

Grasshopper Green is a comical chap;
He lives on the best of fare.
Bright little trousers, jacket, and cap,
These are his summer wear.
Out in the meadow he loves to go,
Playing away in the sun;
It’s hoppety, skipperty, high and low,
Summer’s the time for fun.

Grasshopper Green has a quaint little house;
It’s under the hedge so gay.
Grandmother Spider, as still as a mouse,
Watches him over the way.
Gladly he’s calling the children, I know,
Out in the beautiful sun;
It’s hoppety, skipperty, high and low,
Summer’s the time for fun.
~Author Unknown

Minnows

. . . Swarms of minnows show their little heads,
Staying their waxy bodies ‘gainst the streams,
To taste the luxury of sunny beams
Tempered with coolness. How they ever wrestle
With their own sweet delight, and ever nestle
Their silver bellies on the pebbly sand.
If you but scantily hold out the hand,
That very instant not one will remain;
But turn your eye, and they are there again.
The ripples seem right glad to reach those cresses,
And cool themselves among the em’rald tresses;
The while they cool themselves, they freshness give,
And moisture, that the bowery green may live.
~John Keats

Mice

I think mice
Are rather nice

Their tails are long,
Their faces small,
They haven’t any
Chins at all.
Their ears are pink,
Their teeth are white,
They run about
The house at night.
They nibble things
They shouldn’t touch
And no one seems
To like them much

But I think mice
Are nice
~Rose Fyleman

The City Mouse and the Garden Mouse

The city mouse lives in a house;-
The garden mouse lives in a bower,
He’s friendly with the frogs and toads,
And sees the pretty plants in flower.

The city mouse eats bread and cheese;-
The garden mouse eats what he can;
We will not grudge him seeds and stocks,
Poor little timid furry man.
~Christina Rossetti

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Joshua Reynolds on Conservative Cornerstones – Author of Children’s Books, Young Adult, Historical Fiction / Family Stories – Finding Conservative Thought in Olde Books. Check out my Authoring Conservatism Post. Look up my two books, The Williams House and Treasure on the Southern Moor in my bookstore!

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Children’s Hour Biweekly

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Epilogue – The Williams House

Within a summer afternoon,
Among the blowing flowers,
Many young voices strike a tune,
With silver laughs like showers.
They sing and shout and laugh with glee
With much more fun to be.
Hark and listen to hear the sound,
Of all the little tones.
Remember times when you could bound,
O’er hills and dales and stones.
And if you are a little one,
Take time to leap and run!
There is a day to one day be,
When we are ushered in,
To unending moments of glee,
And no more times of sin.
Here, cheerful tones will rise and sing,
All praises to the King.
Remember then that all this life,
Is passing like a breath.
There is no time for any strife,
For soon there will be death.
But then if found in Christ you stand,
Your welcome will be grand!
~by Joshua A. Reynolds

The Magician’s Nephew; from Chapter 15: The End of this Story

.     There were of course all sorts of colored things in the bedroom; the colored counterpane on the bed, the wallpaper, the sunlight from the window, and Mother’s pretty, pale blue dressing jacket. But the moment Digory took the Apple out of his pocket, all those things seemed to have scarcely any color at all. Every one of them, even the sunlight, looked faded and dingy. The brightness of the Apple threw strange lights on the ceiling. Nothing else was worth looking at: you couldn’t look at anything else. And the smell of the Apple of Youth was as if there was a window in the room that opened on Heaven.
.     “Oh, darling, how lovely,” said Digory’s Mother.
.     “You will eat it, won’t you? Please,” said Digory.
.     “I don’t know what the Doctor would say,” she answered. “But really – I almost feel as if I could.”
.     He peeled it and cut it up and gave it to her piece by piece.
. . .
.     Next morning when the Doctor made his usual visit, Digory leaned over the banisters to listen. He heard the Doctor come out with Aunt Letty and say:
.     “Miss Ketterley, this is the most extraordinary case I have known in my whole medical career. It is – it is like a miracle. I wouldn’t tell the little boy anything at present; we don’t want to raise any false hopes. But in my opinion-” then his voice became too low to hear.
. . .
.     About a week after this it was quite certain that Digory’s Mother was getting better. About a fortnight later she was able to sit out in the garden. And a month later that whole house had become a different place. Aunt Letty did everything that Mother liked; windows were opened, frowsy curtains were drawn back to brighten up the rooms, there were new flowers everywhere, and nicer things to eat, and the old piano was tuned and Mother took up her singing again, and had such games with Digory and Polly that Aunt Letty would say “I declare, Mabel, you’re the biggest baby of the three.”
~By C.S. Lewis

from Five Children and It

My Lamb, you are so very small,
You have not learned to read at all;
Yet never a printed book withstands
The urgence of your dimpled hands.
So, though this book is for yourself,
Let mother keep it on the shelf
Till you can read. O days that pass,
That day will come too soon, alas!
~By E. Nesbit

Joshua Reynolds on Conservative Cornerstones – Author of Children’s Books, Young Adult, Historical Fiction / Family Stories – Finding Conservative Thought in Olde Books. Check out my Authoring Conservatism Post. Look up my two books, The Williams House and Treasure on the Southern Moor in my bookstore!

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Free eBook! Rhymes for a Child’s Picnic Lunch

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Hello everyone. I have finally made a free eBook for my website! If you desire to get the whole eBook, please subscribe to this blog (on the right side of the screen just under the search feature)! For those who have already subscribed, the link should be in the textbox below the search feature. Below are a few more sample screenshots of the inside. You can also find these screenshots on my Story Previews page. Enjoy and please subscribe!

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Joshua Reynolds on Conservative Cornerstones – Author of Children’s Books / Family Stories – Finding Conservative Thought in Olde Books. Check out my Authoring Conservatism Post. Look up my two books, The Williams House and Treasure on the Southern Moor in my bookstore!

A Clip of my Unfinished Book

So, with The Williams House and Treasure on the Southern Moor now written and published, I am now working on my third book that will take place somewhere in the Victorian/Edwardian time-period in England. A very rough draft of chapter 1 has been written, and I am currently in chapter 2. I thought I would share just a couple paragraphs to give you all a very small preview into this coming book. I hope you enjoy!

.     As the children spoke, they reached the top of the hill Ellsworth had spoken of, and they found a rocky descent that led down to a narrow place with rich, downy turf. They had already been through the kitchen gardens, rose gardens, flower beds, and between most of the rows of hedges. These gardens expanded a long way out in many directions, surrounding the large manor house with rich vegetation. Bowers arched up and over the stone pathways, and early June flowers were dangling down from them. Rainwater was currently splashing down their pedals and stems and dripping onto the path. It had dripped on the children when they had passed by that way, as some of the bowers were short enough that the children had to collapse their umbrellas to pass. The mansion stood as a shining center in the midst of all the gardens.
.     [They] had passed the gardens, walked around a small winding trail that led to the croquet grounds, past that and on through a small set of trees with a river in it, and then up a rising hill. Most of their clothes were now soaked with water spray, and their hair was blown askew by the wind, yet color was in their faces from walking and running.

New Websites!

Hello everyone,

I briefly mentioned the news in my Children’s Hour post, but I wanted to dedicate a blog post to it as well. I am launching new websites, but don’t worry! I’m keeping up with the old as well. I’m beginning other sites for focusing more specifically with certain topics. For instances, one of the two other sites I have completed is a blog dedicated entirely to writing about The Williams House. I am making new scenes for it! The other site I have completed is a site that complies all of my professional online business activities; so it’s more of a rebroadcasting and summarizing site. This site (Conservative Cornerstones) is currently the parent site, though I may make that the parent site over time. I am also created a website specially for Treasure on the Southern Moor, and additional websites to handle more of my writings. So please check out the links below, and I hope you enjoy them!

(1) Site for The Williams House: https://thewilliamshouse.wordpress.com/

(2) My summary website: https://joshuareynoldssite.wordpress.com/

Joshua Reynolds on Conservative Cornerstones – Author of Children’s Books / Family Stories – Finding Conservative Thought in Olde Books. Check out my Authoring Conservatism Post. Look up my two books, The Williams House and Treasure on the Southern Moor in my bookstore!