Children’s Book Week Celebration

>> Library of Congress.>> Please stand by for realtime
captions.>> [Captioner standing by] Q. Hi, I’m Carla Hayden, and it is
my pleasure to wish you a very happy children’s book week.
This year marks its 100th anniversary and the Library of
Congress is excited to join the celebration. We are especially excited about
the 2019 theme, Read now, read
forever because it looks to the past, present and future of
children’s books and our celebration apes to do the same. Today the Library of Congress is
launching a new digital collection of children’s book
selections. This new collection is made up of full color, digitized versions of
dozens of specially selected children’s books from our general and rare book
collection. Our hope is these books will be enjoyed by
children, parents and teachers. We’ve organized the collection
into three main categories, learning to read, reading to learn, and reading
for fun. To help us connect young readers
of today, we’ve teamed up with the voices of contemporary
creators of children’s literature. Local authors who
are members of the children’s book guild of Washington D.C.
will be reading 20 of these special books to you right here
from the Young Reader Center in the Jefferson Building of
Library of Congress starting right now and continuing for the next
few hours. Get comfortable and witness comfort and put your listening
ears on. Here we go!>> Good morning, happy
Children’s Book Week, I direct the Office of learning and
innovation here at the Library of Congress and I get the
pleasure of reading our first story. The book I have is entitled the
Juvenile National Calendar and it was published in 1824 and it
is a much more interesting book than its title might imply. It actually has a sub-title and
it was not just the Juvenile National Calendar it was called
the Juvenile National Calendar or a familiar description of the
U.S. government. With hand-colored illustrations
and amusing versus it describes the role of the people, of the
President, the Vice President, the cabinet members,
and Congressmen in 1824 when the United States was less than 50
years old. It engages young citizens and
teaches them about the workings of their
government, and it begins. The rising generation. Come all my young pupils, stand
around in a ring and listen to me while
I Merily sing. I will tell you of those who enjoy the command, which is held or all of
us for the good of the land. Of the President, cabinet,
Congressman too, I mean to describe and bring into view. Who by learning and virtue,
their honors did get, so that you, if you’re good, may be President yet.
The people. But first, of the people, my
song must relate that they choose for themselves who shall govern the state, and
each of the men who are age 21 has a right to cry out what he wants to be
done, and meet with his neighbors, some
friends to elect, to rule over the land, and whom all may respect, and he, for
whom most of the people may shout, is
placed as a ruler until his turns out. The President of the U.S.. Of
the President next, you will hear me declare, that although
neither silver nor gold does he wear, and like you, may be punished if he E’er acts
wrong, yet to him does much power and importance belongs. He, ambassadors sends to the
nations afar, he is Chief of the soldiers who fight in the war,
he may pardon the convict of hanging in fear, and
he gets twenty five thousand dollars a year. The Vice
President. Next to him, the Vice President
ranks in the land, with one-fifth of the
pay and a smaller command. As Chief of the Senate, of right
he presides and his vote when the others are equal decides. If the President dies, sir, his
place he must take, until the good
people another can make. Their stations they hold for a term of four years, after which as a
citizen each one appears. The Secretary of State. But the President chooses a
counsel for aid before which the affairs of importance are laid. The first has an eye or all
matters of state, and on him, all the
foreign ambassadors wait. The Dutchmen and Russians so
gain, bow down to the floor in the presence of him, and six
thousand dollars is what we must give, to enable this one of the council to live.
Second of the Treasury. The task of the next is to watch
for the gold and the keys of the
chests which enclose it to hold, to keep an account, how the
money all went, and to tell the good people how much they have
spent, and by turning and twisting his thoughts in his brain, to hit on
a method to get more again, and to
pay for this trouble in guarding our store, we give him the same as the others
before. Secretary of the Navy. The next or the Navy that boast
of our land or its sailors and officers holds its command, he
tells to what regions the vessels must sail, or abids
them repose in the port from the
Gale, he signs the Commissions which
office to bestow, on those who on ocean must advantage wish the
foe. Though he rules on the sea, yet lives on the shore, and
receives what we gave to the others before.
The second of War. Or the Army, the next of the
counsel presides for its wants and its comforts to he that
provides, when war is declared he gives orders to
march to the soldiers with starch, and forward they rush at
the word of command, to bleed or die for the good of the land.
The lawyer, for all, we must add to this yet, and now we’ve
completed the whole cabinet. Going to Congress. The
Congressman next our attention demands, some are chosen for
merit and some for their lands, as the people can’t meet
altogether you know, they choose from their body, some few that
shall go, and he who is anxious to help make laws, works hardest and
longest for public applause. Until chosen he bids them a
gracious goodbye, and the pleasure of going is bright in
his eye. The member of Congress. Next, in Congress as we hear his speeches declaim, give honor to
one, to another give blame. Demand what he thinks is of use
to his friends, with a candor and
freedom that never offends. As long as he can, he is willing to stay for he gets for his trouble
$8 a day, and when on his toil and labor is over, contented returns to his
station before. Finally, general Lafayette. Thus far, I have Sung of our
country in laws but still there’s another who a claims
your applause, whose blood for our freedom, once freely did
flow, who at Yorktown and Brandywine,
advantage wished the foe, and returned when the Summer of manhood is gone, which
are holy his own, his name? You shall hear it, and never
forget, the friend of America, brave
Lafayette. Thank you. Happy Children’s Book Week! By illustrate ors and
storytellers in each generation and Walter Crane condenses each of 56 fables to
brief and entertaining rhymes, with the morals and illustrates
them in his vibrant style. Notice his mark in each
illustration, a large sea surrounding a W and
a six-figure crane. Being the fables condensed in
rhyme with portable morals pointed by
Walter Crane and those of you who are poetry fans will notice
that these morals, these fables are written in Limerich
form. The Cock and the pearl. A rooster, while scratching for
grain, found a pearl, he just paused to explain that a jewel
is no good to a foul wanting food, and then kicked it
aside with Disdain, and the moral is
if he ask bread will he give him a stone?
The wolf and the lamb. A world, wanting lamb, for his
dinner, growled out, lamb, you wronged
me, you sinner. Bleeded him, not true, answered wolf, and then Twas you, you or lamb,
you will serve for my dinner. Fraud and violence have no
Scruples. The wind and the sun. The wind and the sun had a bet. The wayfairers cook which should
get, blew the wind, the cloak Clung,
shown the sun the cloak Flung, shown
the sun had the best of it yet and the moral is true strength is not bluster. King log and King stork. The fogs prayed to Joe for a
King, not a log but a livelier thing. Joe sent them a stork, who did
royal work, for he gobbled them up,
did their King, and the moral is, very
simply, don’t have kings. The frightened lion. A bull frog, according to rule,
sat acroak in his usual pool and he laughed in his heart as a
lion did start and a fright from the Brink, like a fool. Imaginary fears are the worst.
The mouse and the lion. A poor thing, the mouse, I’m starting
this one over. The mouse and the lion. A poor thing, the mouse was, and
yet, when the lion got caught in a
net, all his strength was no use, Twas
the poor little mouse who nibbled him out of the net. Small causes may produce great
results. The next one is a big favorite
here, the married mouse. So, the mouse had a lion for
bread, very great was his joy and his
pride, but it chanced that she put on her husband, her foot,
and the weight was too much, so he died. One, may be too ambitious and if
you look closely at the
illustration, poor little mouse is lying there,
dead. The next one is Hercules. When the God saw the wagoner
kneel crying Hercules left me my wheel from the mud where it Ties
stuck, he laughed no such luck. Set your shoulder yourself to
the wheel. The gods helped those who helped
themselves. The lazy housemmaids. Two
killed the rooster whose warning awoke them too soon every
morning but small were their gains, for their mistress took pains to Rouese
them herself without warning and the moral is laziness is its own
punishment. The snake and the foul. A snake in a fix pride a foul
for dinner, Ties not worth your
while, don’t mistake I’m accustomed to take, to gives not
the way of a file. We may meet our watch match. The fox and the crow. Said sly
fox to the crow with the cheese. Let me hear your sweet voice
now, do please, and this crow, being
weak, called a bit from her Bak. Music charms from the fox, and
here is cheese. The dog and the manger. A cow with a mouthful of Hay,
and he snapped out, who now, when most mildly the cow adventured to Prey. Don’t be selfish. The frog and
the bull. Said the frog quite puffed up to the eyes, was this bull about me, as
a size, rather bigger, frog brother,
puff-puff said the other, a frog is a bull
if he tries, but brag is not always belief.
The fox and the crane. You have heard now Sir Fox
treated crane with a soup plate in a
plate when again they dined a long bottle
just suited the throttle and Sir Fox licked the outside in vein.
There are games that two can play.
Horse and man. When the horse first took man on his back, to help him the stag to
attack, how little his dread as the
enemy fled, man would make him his slave and
his hack. Advantages may be dearly bought. The enemy, get up, let us flee
from the foe, said the man, but the
Ass said why so will they double my load
or my blows and then I’ve no cause to
go. Your reasons are not mine. The fox and the mosquitoes. Being plagued with mosquitoes
one day, said old fox, don’t send them away, for a hungrier swarm would work me
for harm. I had rather the full ones should stay and the moral of this one is
there were politicians in Esop’s time.
The fox and the lion. The first time the fox had a sight of the lion, he most died a
freight, when he next met his eye, fox felt
just a bit shy, but the next quite at ease
and polite, and familiarity destroys fear.
The Miser and his gold. He buried his gold in a hole,
one saw and the treasure he stole, said another, what
matter, don’t raise such a clatter. You can still go and sit by the
hole. Use alone gives value. The golden eggs. A golden egg, one every day,
that’s simpleton’s goose used to lay, so he killed the poor
thing, swift or fortune to bring and dined off his
fortune that day. Greed overreaches itself.
The last fable for now? The man that pleased none. Through the tone, this good man
and his son Strove to ride as to
please everyone. Self, son, or both tried and then the ass had a ride, while the world
at their efforts poked fun. You can not hope to please all.
Don’t try. Thanks, everybody. I’m excited
to be with you for Children’s Book Week. Read now read
forever gives today’s authors like myself a chance to
celebrate classic books and stories that are meaningful to
us as children and young readers so happy
Children’s Book Week and thanks!>> Good morning, my name is
Michelle Y Green. I’m the author of a cop strong
White Arm and a historical fiction
series. The little pretty pocketbook was published in 1787 and the
caption under the significant piece of early
American children’s literature reads of
instruction with Delight” this title probably more than any
other marks the point at which American children’s literature
turns from overwhelmingly instructional to being
entertaining as well, and in 1787 when this book
was printed, society had very strict ideas, of what should be
entertaining for children, and even an invitation to play games
was accompanied by morals and life lessons as you will see in the
games selected here. A little pretty pocketbook
intended for the amusement of little master
Tommy and miss Polly, with two letters
from Jack the Giant Killer. Here we go.
The great G. play. Hop, step, and jump. Hop, short, to make your jump
long. This art has beat, the efforts
of the strong, and the moral is this
take, embellish your book, think well, you talk and you leap, look. The little G Play. Boys and
Girls come out to play after a Sultry summer’s day when the
moon shines and stars are gay, and well-pleased events and spin the
evening in a dance. The rule of life. Reflect today upon the last and
freely own by errors pass. The great H Play. I sent a letter to my love, the
Ladds and Lassies here are seen, but
what among them to her cost, the treasure of her heart was lost.
The rule of life. It prospers of pride beware,
changes a fortune, frequent our. The H Play. Pitch and hustle, poise your
hand fairly and pitch plum your flat, and shape for all heads
and turn down the hat . the moral is how fickle this
game, so fortune or fate, decrease our
repentence when off Ties too late. The great I Play.
Cricket. This observes when you play it Cricket, catch all fairly out
and the moral is this regard now you’re
in your prime, look it is too late and
take time. The I’ll I Play. The ball once struck with care
and drove through the air, and swift round his course, the gamer flies, or
his spill was taken by surprise and the rule of life. Bestow your Alms when you flee,
an object in necessity, and the
great K play. Swimming. When the sun beams have warmed the air, I used to come, in whole
refreshing streams they play, to the last of the day and the rule
of life. You speak for words once flown,
once uttered are no more your own. The little K Play.
Baseball. The ball once struck off flies
the boy, to the next destined plot and
then home with joy. The moral is, thus fly over the
main but with pleasure transported
returned back again. The great O Play. Touch lightly the trap and
strike the ball and none catch you out and you’ll beat them
all. The moral is learn hence my boy,
to avoid every share, and try to
involve you in sorrow and care. The little I Play. The gamer here has art displays
and drives a thousand ways, or should he miss, once his tossed
he’s out and his sport is lost. Rule of life. The base and portals always
Shun, no one by piece was air undone. The great M Play. With
what they forced this little ball rebounds when struck
against the wall, see how intent each gamer stands, mark well his
eyes, his feet, his hands. The rule of life. This is
enough to know, virtue is happiness below. And that’s from the little
pretty pocketbook. Do you believe in dreams? I do.
When my mother was very young, her name is Lilly Pearl and she
lived in the far away misty mountains in
Kentucky and she had a teacher who would read to her every day from fairytales and
one day, Lilly Pearl who came from a poor family, with a lot
of moral values, decided that she wanted to see the castles
far far away. Once upon a time, there was a little boy, and his name was Frex, and
Eddie Lee Young, he was my father and he lived in the misty
mountains far away in Jenkins too about a mile away from where
my mother lived. Once upon a time there was a
little girl named Michelle and she lived with her mother and
father and she went to Germany and in the fifth day she had a
teacher that used to talk to her every day and speak to her, and
read to the class about Little House on the Prairie and
Michelle grew up knowing that she wanted to be an author.
What do they all have in common? They all had dreams. Well, Lilly Pearl and Eddie Lee
Young got married. My father went to become a pilot
and I’m wearing his wings. The two of them got married, had
three daughters, we moved to Germany, and believe it or not,
Lilly Pearl saw all of the castles and she saw
Gondolas, she saw England, she saw all of Europe and we had a
wonderful time. The moral of our story is, read,
read everything that you can, and if you can’t read, find
someone to read to you. It’s the best adventure in all of the
world. Thank you very much, I’m pleased to be here today and happy Children’s
Book Week.>> Good morning. My name is Lulu Dellacre, I am
the author and this book, from A-Z,
unveiling the cloud forest. Today, I will be reading Little
Red Riding Hood published in 1863,
and it is well known in many countries,
being from Puerto Rico, I know the Spanish
version [speaking in Spanish] and I
always cheer when I see this. This 1863 retelling of Little
Red Riding Hood is both a book being cut in
the shape of little red herself with the wolf subdued at her feet. There was a lonely cabin, within
a dark, old, wood, and in it, with her
mother, there dwell red riding hood. The tall old trees above them,
the winter fire supplied, when
autumns flaming sunset from their red leaves had died. The brook, the water, from far
off mountains brought, and put them
off their summit in icy statue swath
for then they heard it and they
napped in hollow trees and they were made
by the bees. Together is together, what’s
work have to do, little red riding hood,
thought so, and no doubt would you. Blushing beneath her fingers,
looked up and the flowers seemed to know her and listened
for her tread. This little pot of butter, Oh,
churned so nice and sweet and might not
stop with anyone you meet. Then through the shady forest,
the little maiden went, and though her steps were there, the day was, well
nice spent. When she looked at her journey,
for what he still came walking by
her side. Oh, said my little maiden. How fair you are. You really look quite handsome.
Where do you walk so far? Forget love her mother she
stopped and told him where, whoa! Then she said then said the
wolf, what is it that you bear? Forget what her mother, she
still don’t tell him, this is better
for my grandma, but nicely in this
path. Then said the wolf, goodbye,
dear, perhaps we’ll meet again and
then swiftly as he happened, swiftly
through Dale and Glenn, and running
which before her, the cabin grey and old, her grandmomma was absent, it
quickly did unfold, himself in cap and
nightgown then quickly closely upon the
pillow, he laid his head. Red riding hood then entered,
Oh, grandmomma stay here, where is
my grandma, dear? Here, said the wolf. While with her grandma’s voice,
of hair so thick, that I can’t
speak and take all your clothes, my darling, upon the bed, come why when you are
here beside me I’ll be better. Red riding hood obeyed her and
got upon the bed. Oh, grandmomma, how you are she
quickly said. Of what great eyes my
grandmomma, they never looked so before, and such
to see you better, my darling, the
larger to see you more. What a great nose, my grandma, I
never looked so before. That’s to smell you better, my darling, the larger to smell you
more. And what great hands, my
grandma, they never looked so before. That’s to hold you tight, my
darling, and to hug you more and more. What a great mouth, my grandma,
as large as it is. That’s to open wide, my beauty,
and then to eat you up! Then, he opened his great mouth,
to eat her like a bird, but at the
dreadful moment, a hunter’s gun was heard. The wolf fell dead and bleeding
and then grandma, for she had seen her
dangers had been, red riding hood, wept
sadly. She disobeyed her mother, which
she never did before. And she thought with fear and
trembling, of the death that came so near, and she said the fright
had taught her to mind her mother dear. Then listen, children, among
your mother’s mind your mother’s word
for the great wolf meant evil is
prowling around on her. Today, we are celebrating the
100th Anniversary of Children’s Book Week. We celebrate books, for me books
bring us the comfort of familiarity with things that speak to us, to the
ages, and new books bring the excitement of the discovery of world and
feelings not known before and today, new books also bring the power of
representation. When the reader sees that the
hero of a story mirrors her appearance
and life experiences, the child feels empowered and included.>> [Speaking Spanish] Hello, my name is Karen Deans I
am the author overcame swing Sisters.
Today I’m going to be reading the Cats Party which was published in
1871. It was a New York publishing firm in the second
half of the 19th Century and a pioneer in color printing for
children. Their books are often retellings of amusing stories and inexpensive
formats. In the cats party some very
well-dressed and polite cats get invited to a party that doesn’t go all
too well. The cats party. Mrs. Grimelton writes her cards. The mistress is so fat and so
hardy once gave to her kittens a nice little party and she sent out her cards
with guilt edges bound for the blacks
to come around. There was uncle and aunt, and
some cats of first water, and of course not forgetting her last
married daughter. There was mother and sister, besides her
first cousin, counting heads, as they sat, they made up a dozen.
Mrs. G determines to borrow hermits
less’ dishes. The next thing to be done, was
to make preparation, so the kittens were called to the
consultation. Mrs. G, I’ve determined from mistress to
borrow all the dishes we need and return them tomorrow. We have had muffins and nice
buttered toast, shrimps and fried fish
and some meat which will roast. There’s nothing like fish there
were plenty beside, I could eat a
large plate full especially fried. The table groans and Tom runs
away. The day was quite fine, so they
split up the things which appeared so delicious. They had
so much on the table that a Tom cat declared, it certainly
groans and he ran away scared. The guests now arriving they
each took a seat, some suspiciously eyeing the fish and
the meat. It hasn’t been hinted Twas not
all quite fresh they each begun thinking they were caught in a mesh. They are desired to make
themselves at home. Ms. Evans was dressed in her best
bib and Tucker and this cat often got in a pucker and though
Tom was handsome, he’d much caused being hurt by the
door on his tail, but all of them
smoothly for each did their best to do all they could to please
all the rest, and they made themselves happy as good
kittens, though of all of the nice things not one had been
bought. Mrs. G’s market politeness to her old
friend Thomas. Then madam though off she did
Roam, said I hope you all made yourselves quite at home, as mistress looks
very close to her store there is plenty of everything, Tom, take
some more. Yes, now look at this dish and
permit me to send you a piece of fried fish. I thank you, dear Tom, if your
appetites keen, here is a cup of the very best milk ever seen. Billy and the bell lows. Such polite less from old has
seldom been seen since the same Puss and boots but Billy who wore a great
brown-shining coat got a dread little large
herring bone stuck in his throat and hen he kicked with all force
he was able and finally turned upside down the great table,
when his friend Mrs. Evans of him being jealous,
thrust down his throat the nose of the belllows.
The dance. Such roughness, such kindness at length moved the bone, and poor
Billy recovered himself very soon. When a lady-like cat who had
visited France, after supper proposed they should all have a
dance. Tom and her lady now opened the
ball and Merill it danced to the delight of them all. The others
soon followed, until all in the room, were dancing away as
though quite at home. Sudden appearance of Mrs.. In
the midst of the dancing the mistress came in, completely
astonished to hear such a Din. She struck the ring leader which
so frightened the rest, that could get out of sight they each did their
best. And the moral of the story is:
A saying there is, perhaps not known to all, and to it the attention of every
good cat I call. It’s something about, taking
what isn’t his’n, and the saying winds up with he shall go to
prison. So all cats and kittens from us
take advice, and never steal, though ever so nice. Leave your feelings be hurt by
this candid allusion, and like Tom and the rest of them, put to confusion. Here is to a wonderful life of
reading and storytelling. Happy Children’s Book Week! I am Rhoda Trooboff, I am a
children’s book publisher in Washington D.C. at a very small
children’s book press called Tinley Circle Press. Today I’m going to be reading to
you Yankee Doodle, an old song in a new dress published in 1881. It is a youngsters view of war, specifically the American
revolution, its troops and writing and illustrating at the same time as the three
British masters call to the greenway,
and Piele is known by many as the father of the American
children’s book illustration and his talents were creating
illustrations that go beyond the simple characterization of the story is
on full view in this work. Yankee Doodle an old song, an
old friend, in a new dress. Father and I went down to camp
along with captain Goodwin, where we see the men and boys as sick and hasty. There is Captain Washington and
giving orders to his men, I guess there
was a million. And then the feathers in his
hat, they looked so fine, I wanted to give
to my Jamima. And then they had a swamp and
gun as big as maple, on the cart, a
load for father’s cattle. And every time they fired it
off, it took a horn of powder. It made a noise like father’s
gun, only a nation louder. I went as near to it myself as
Jacob’s underpinning, and father went as
near again and I thought the Duce
hadsce was in him. Cousin Simon grew so bold, I
thought he would have cooked, I’m sorry.
Cousin Simon grew so bold I taught he would have Cocked it. It scared me so I shrinked off
and Hung my father’s pocket. And there, I see a pumpkin
shell, as big as mother’s basin , and every time they touched it
off, they Scampered like the nation, and
there, I see, little heads that were made of leather and they
knocked upon it with little sticks, to call the folks together, and then they play on
corn stalk fiddles and some had ribbons red as blood, all wound about their
middles. The troopers too would Gallup up
and fire right in our faces. It scared me almost half to death
to see them run such races. Old Uncle Sam come into change
some pancakes and some onions, good
fresh pancakes were for sale at one
hey penny a piece. I see another snarl of men,
digging graves they told me, so long and
deep they tended they should hold me. It scared me so, I hooked it off
and I swept as I remember, nor turned
about, until I got home, locked up in
mother’s chamber. The end. Happy Children’s Book Week. I’ll tell you a little bit about
myself. My life has been bookended by books and
libraries. When I was about seven years old, I got my first job in this little
town off the coast of Massachusetts, the
librarian, Edna Curtis invited me to be her library page. My
job was to go to the children’s book shelf, the lowest shelf,
and put the books in alphabetical order
and also to take Ms. Curtis’ ruler and make sure that all the books were one inch in from
the edge of the shelf. That’s what I did when I was seven or eight years old, and now I’m a children’s book publisher at
Tinley Circle Press, a very very small children’s press and here
I am today in the biggest and greatest library in the world,
the Library of Congress. Thank you very much for letting me
read to you. Good morning, my name is Amy
Hansen. I’m going to be reading a book published in 1887 by Walter
Crane, the author of Firebird. For Walter Crane illustrated
these with morals credited to a Greek storyteller who lived in the fifth Century
BCE. Originally the fables were not written down but only spoken
aloud. The fables and their lessons continued to be
interpreted by illustrate ors and storytellers in each
generation. Walter Crane condensed them in his envy rant style.
Notice his mark with each illustration, a large C
surrounded by a W and a thick figure crane. This is part 2 of baby’s own
Aesop selections that we are reading
today. Giant oak in his strength and on
the winds by, I’m sorry. Some read at his side, and since
by bending the burden was born. The moral is bend not break. The fur and the Brabble. The
tree looked down on the brabble, poor thing only able to scrabble
about on the ground, just then an axe
sound made him wish himself be a
brabble. Pride of place has its
disadvantage. The trees and the woodmen. The trees asked the man what he
lacks. One bit just to handle my axe,
Oh, he asks, well and good, but he cut down the wood, so well does he handle
this axe. Give me an inch and I will take
a mile. The heart and the vine. The heart and by the hunter’s
pursued safely hidden a vine until he chewed the sweet tender green and though
shaking leaves seen, he was slain by his
ingratitude. Spare your benefactors is the moral there. The man and the snake. In pity
he brought the poor snake to be warmed as its fire, a
mistake, for the ungrateful thing, life in
children would Sting. I had known some as bad as the
snake. Beware how you entertain
traders. Always good advice. The fox with his foot on the
mask thus took it to task, you’re a real handsome face, but what part of your case
and your brain is in good, sir, let
me ask. And I can’t read the moral, I’m
sorry. The lion and the statue. On a statue, King lion is
showing conquered man found and if lion, you know, had been sculpture, he
would show man on the ground. The story depends on the
storyteller. The booster. I’m sorry. In the
house in the market in the streets, everywhere his boasting
his feats, until once had with a
sneer, let us see it done here, what so
often with ease, one repeats and the moral
is deeds, not words. Signed feathers, Jack thought,
make fine fouls. I’ll be envied by bats and by
owls but the peacocks proud eyes saw
through his disguise and Jack fled the
assembly of fouls. Borrowed plumes are soon discovered is
the moral. The peacocks complaint. We’re
into peacocks right now. The peacock considered it wrong
that he had not the song, so did you
know he went and she replied be content
and hold thigh fool tongue, do not quarrel with nature.
Two crabs. So, awkward, so a gate, Mrs.
Crab did her daughter berate, who rejoined, it is true, I am
backward, but you, needed lessons in walking
quite late. Look at home. Two jars. Never fear! Said the brass to the clay, of
the two jars that fled away, keep you close to my side! But the porcelain replied, I’ll
be smashed if beside you I stay! Our friends, our enemy. Brother and sister. Twin
children, the girl, she was playing the brother was handsome
in vein, let him brag of his looks, father said, mind your
books! The best beauty is bread in the
brain. Handsome is as handsome does.
The fox without a tail. Said fox minus a tail in a trap,
my friend, here is a lucky mishap. Give your tails a short lease,
but the foxes weren’t geese and none fouled the fashion of trap. Yet, some fashions have no
better reason. The dog and the shadow. His image, the dog did not know,
for its own in the pond painted
show, tethered dog so he thought, has gotten more than he ought, so he
snapped and his dinner saw go. Greed is some types caught by
its own bait. The crow and the pitcher. With old grow got his drink,
when Mr. Wheeler: Long a pitcher just think, don’t say
that he spilled it with pebbles he filled it until the water
rose up to the Brink. Use your Witts. I like that one.
The eagle and the crow. The eagle flew off with the lamb and
then the crow thought to lift an old man, in his con seat, he tangled
his feet and the shepherd lay hold
of the sham. Beware of overrating your own
powers. The blind Doe. A poor half-blind Doe, her one I
all danger to spy, as she Fed by the
sea, poor innocent, she was shot from
a boat passing by. The moral is watch all sides. So thank you for letting me
read. I’m very pleased to be here for Children’s Book Week, and
pleased to be among all these extraordinary
books and I will be happy to come back next year. Thank you!>> Hello, I’m Karen Leggett
Abouraya, I write non-fiction children’s books, and since
we’re going to be reading from a book by an illustrate or I want
to let you know that these books are illustrated by Susan L. Ross
and she does all her illustrations in cut paper
collage so she cuts lots of little tiny pieces of paper to
do her collages. The man whose illustrations
we’re going to see today, Randolph Caldecott
worked with pen and ink and colors and he was doing this, his energetic and
humorous illustrations fillet collection of 16 picture books and the Caldecott
award is named for him and this is the American Library
Association’s annual award to the artist of the most
distinguished American picture book for children and named for
this 19th Century British illustrate or and this is a book
of nursery rhymes and silly versus and I want you to take a
particularly close look at the children that he draws because
you’ll get an idea of how children dressed in 1887 when
this book was published. The first one we’re going to
read is one you might be familiar with because it’s a
nursery rhyme we still tell sometimes in schools and at homes, hey diddle diddle, the
cat and the fiddle. You see some of the pictures are in
color and look at the characters in there because he’s going to
mention all these characters. The cow jumped over the moon and
the little dog laughed to see such
fun, and the dish ran away with the
spoon. Now next one we’re going to read
is a frog, he would ago, now a Wooing
is a phrase that everybody would have known in 1887. It really
means that frog is looking for a girlfriend, and you’ll
also hear there are some phrases here that
are nonsense, but they’re fun to listen to and fun to say, and
I’m going to say them on every page, so by the end, you’ll be
able to say this funny phrase, and it’ll get funny and funnier
the more you say it especially if everybody starts saying it in
the family. A frog he would A-Wooing go,
whether his mother would let him know, with
a spinache, hey Ho says Anthony,
so off he set with his opera hat, says
Rowley, and on his way he met with a rat,
Heigho and pray Mr. Rat will you go with me, and pretty miss mousy for us to see, with a
Rowley spinache, and now, they soon
arrived at mousy’s hall, Heigho and with a spinache,
Heigho says Anthony Rowley, are you within? And Oh, yes, kind sirs, I’m
sitting to spin, with a Rowley spinache,
says Anthony Rowley. Pray miss mouse will you give us
some beer? For froggy are fond of good
cheer and pray, Mr. Frog will you give us a song? Let it be
something that’s not very long, with a Rowley spinache,
and indeed, Ms. Mouse, replied Mr. Frog, and a cold has made me
horse as a hog with a Rowley spinache, and
since you have caught cold, Ms. Mousy
said, I’ll sing you a song that I’ve just made, with a Rowley
spinache, says Anthony Rowley but while they were all thus marry making, a cat and
her kittens came tumbling in, with a
Rowley-powley Gammon and spinache, the cat she sees the rat by the
crown, the kittens they pull the little
mouse down with a Rowley-powley Gammon, and this put Mr. Frog in a terrible fright, and
he took up his hat and he wished them
goodnight, with a Rowley-powley Gammon spinache, says Anthony Rowley, but his
frog it was crossing a silvery brook, and a
little white duck came and gobbled him
up, says Anthony Rowley so there was an end of one, two and three, and the rat,
the mouse and the little froggy,
with a Rowley-powley Gammon, says Anthony Rowley, so it’s a
funny verse without a very funny ending but I wish you a happy Children’s Book
Week and I hope you enjoy finding old books maybe with an
aunt or a grandmother or somebody in your household has
beautiful old books around and then enjoy all of the new books
that are being written coming out every day especially at your
library. Thank you very much!>> Hello, I’m Barbara carny-coston, and a book
published by Wayne State University Press. Today, I will be reading part
one of King Mittas, from wonderbook for
boys and girls by Nathaniel Hawthorne
published in 1893. In a wonder book for girls and
boys, with 60 designs by Walter Crane, crane uses his powers of design and
color, to help Hawthorne retell six Greek
myths for a young audience, including the stories of Medussa, King and his
golden touch and Pandora’s box. He frames inside a story of a
young man telling tails to children at tanglewood in
western Massachusetts. Today, we will read about King
Mittas. Once upon a time, there lived a
very rich man and a King besides whose name was Mittas, and he had a little
daughter. King was fonder of gold than of anything else in
the world. If he loved anything better, it was the one little maiden who played
around her father’s foot stool but the
more Middas loved his daughter the more did he desire and seek
for wealth, he thought that the best thing he could possibly do for this dear child
would be to bequeath her the pile of
yellow glistening coin that had ever been heaped together since the world
was made. Middas could bear to see or
touch any object that was not gold. He made it his custom,
therefore, to pass a large portion of every
day in a dark Andrea it apartment underground and at the
basement of his palace. It was here that he kept his
wealth. Here, after carefully locking the door, he would take a bag of
gold coin, or cold cup, as big as a wash
bowl, or a heavy golden bar, or a measure
of gold dust and bring them from the obscure corners of the room
into the one bright and narrow sunbeam that fell
from the dungeon-like window, and then
would he reckon over the coins in the bag. Toss up the bar, and catch it as
it came down, sift the gold dust through his fingers, and wisper to
himself, Oh, Middas, rich King Middas, what a
happy man art thou. Middas was enjoying himself one
day when looking suddenly up, what should
he behold, but a young man with a cheerful and ready face. He could not help at the small
with which the stranger regarded him had a kind of golden radiance to it,
and as Middas knew he had carefully turned the key in the
lock and that no mortal strength could possibly break into his
treasure room he concluded that his visitor must be something more
than mortal. You are a wealthy friend, he
observed. I’ve done pretty well, pretty
well, answered Middas in a discontent
the tone but if one could live a thousand years he might have
time to grow rich. What! Exclaimed the stranger then you
are not satisfied. Middas shook his
head and prayed what would satisfy you asked the
stranger? Middas paused and meditated. Raising his head, he looked the
strange Erin the face. Well, Middas observed his visitor, tell me your wish. It is only this, replied Middas.
I wish everything that I touch might be turned to gold. The stranger’s smile grew so
very broad that it seemed to fill the room like an outburst
of the sun gleaming into a shadow, and the golden
touch, exclaimed he, you certainly
deserve credit, friend Middas for striking out so brilliant a
conception but you’re quite sure that this will satisfy you? How could it fail, said Middas? I ask nothing else to render me
perfectly happy. Be it as you wish then, replied the stranger,
waving his hand in token of farewell, tomorrow, at sunrise,
you will find yourself gifted with the
golden touch. The day had hardly peaked over
the hills when King Middas was broad
awake. The golden touch had come to him
with the first sunbeam. Middas started up and ran about
the room grasping at everything that happened to be in his way
and he seized one of the bed posts and it fame
immediately a fluted golden pillar and he put on his clothes and saw
himself in a magnificent suit of gold cloth
which retained its flexibility and softness, although it burdened him a
little with its weight. He draw his handkerchief, which
Marigold hemmed for him, with a dear child’s neat and pretty
stitches running all along the border in gold thread. Somehow
or other, this last transformation did not quite
please King Middas. He would rather that his little
daughter’s handiwork should have remained just the same as when
she climbed his knee and put it into his hand.
It is no great matter, nevertheless, said he to himself, very
philosophically. We cannot expect any great good without
its being accompanied with some small inconvenience. Wise King Middas emerged into
the garden. Middas took great pains in going from bush to bush
and exercised his imagine in touch until every individual
flowering bud and the worms at the heart of some of them were
changed to gold. By the time this good work was
completed, King Middas was summoned to breakfast and as the
morning air had given him an excellent appetite,
he made haste back to the palace. Little Marigold had not yet made
her appearance. It was not a great while before he heard he
coming along the PASSAGEWAY crying bitterly. This
circumstance surprised him because Marigold was one of the
cheerful little people whom you’d see in a summer’s day and hardly shed
tears in 12 months. Marigold slowly opened the door,
sobbing as if her heart would break. How now, my little lady, cried
Middas. What is the matter with you this bright morning?
Marigold held out her hand in which one of the roses which Middas
had so recently transmuted. Beautiful! Exclaimed her
father. Oh, dear father, answered the child, it is not beautiful, but the
most ugly flower that ever grew. As soon as I was dressed I ran
into the garden to gather some roses
for you, but Oh, dear, dear me, such a
misfortune. All the beautiful roses that smelled so sweetly and had so many
lovely blushes are spoiled. They’ve grown quite yellow as
you can see this one and have no longer
any fragrance. What could have been the matter
with him? Pray, don’t cry about it said
Middas which was ashamed to confess he
himself brought the change which is greatly afflicted her. Sit
down and eat your bread and milk. You will find it easy
enough to exchange a golden rose like that for an ordinary one
which would weather in a day. I don’t care for such roses as
this said marigold, tossing it away. It has no smell, and the hard
petals Prick my nose. I hope you enjoyed the rest of
the story which will be read by another
reader.>> Hello, my name is Carl Brown
I’m a co-author of three books one of which you see here, and I’ve got to be
a co-author in these books through
an organization and today, I’ll be
reading a book by math an international Hawthorne and this
one is the golden touch a story about King Middas. King Middas took one of the nice
little trouts on his plate and touched his tail with his
finger. To his horror it was immediately
transmuted from a goldfish. It was really a metallic fish
and looked as if it had been made by
the nicest in the world. King
Middas just at that moment would much rather have a real trout in
his dish. I don’t quite see, thought to
himself, how I am to get any breakfast.
Here was literally the richest breakfast that could be set for a King,
and its very richness made it absolutely good for nothing. The laborer sitting down to his
cup of water was far better off than
King Middas whose delicate food was
really worth its weight in gold. King Middas begins to doubt
whether after all riches are the one desirable thing in the world, or even the
most desirable. Some so fascinated was Middas
with the glitter of the yellow met all that he would still have
refused to give up the golden touch, for so a
consideration as a breakfast. Nevertheless, so great was his
hunger that he groaned aloud. Our pretty Mary goes gold
started from her chair, and running to
Middas, threw her arms about his knees. He bent down and kissed her. My precious Marygold, but
Marygold made no answer, alas what had he done? The moment the lips of Middas
much Marygold’s forehead a change had taken place. Little
Marygold was a human child no longer but a golden statue. Middas begins to ring his hands
and bemoan himself and to wish that he war the poorest man in the wide
world. If the loss of his of all his
wealth might bring back the row of
color to his dear child’s face, while he was
in his Tumult of despair, he suddenly beheld same figure which had bestowed
on him this disastrous faculty of the
Golden Touch. The stranger’s county thans
still wore a smile, would seem to shed a
yellow luster all about the room, and gleamed on little Marygold’s image, and
on the other objects that had been transmuted by the touch of
Middas. Well, friend Middas said the
stranger, pray how do you succeed with the
Golden Touch. Middas shook his head, I’m very miserable said he, very
miserable indeed, exclaimed the stranger. Have you not anything that your
heart desired? Gold is not everything, answered
Middas and I have lost all that my heart really cared for. Ah, so you had made a discovery
since yesterday, observed the stranger, which these two things
do you think is really worth the most? The Golden Touch or your own
little Marygold? Warm, soft, and loving as she
was, an hour ago. Oh, my child, my dear child,
cried poor Middas, you are wiser than you
were, King Middas said the stranger, looking seriously at
him. Tell me now, do you sincerely desire to rid yourself
of this golden touch? It is hateful to me, replied
Middas. Golden, said the stranger, and plunge into the River that glides past
the bottom of your garden. Take likewise a vase of the same
water and sprinkle it over any object that you may desire to change back again
from gold into his former substance. If you do this, in earnestness,
and sincerity, it may possibly
repair the mischief which you have
occasion. Middas lost no time in snatching
up a great pitch en in hasting to the Riverside. As he Scampered along, it was positive marvelous to see how the foliage
turned yellow before him, as if the autumn had been there, and
nowhere else. On reaching the River’s Brink,
he plunged headlong in without waiting so much as to pull off
his shoes. As he dipped the pitcher into
the water, it glad ened his very
heart to see it change from gold into the
same good. Honest, earthen vessel which had
been before he touched it. King Middas hastened back and
first thing he did was to sprinkle it
by a handful of over the golden
figure of little Marygold. No sooner did it fall on her
then the rosy color came back to his dear
child’s face. Marygold did not know she had
been a little golden statue nor could she remember anything that
had happened since the moment when she ran with outstretched arms to comfort
poor King Middas. Her father led little Marygold into the garden where he sprinkled
all of the remainder of the water over the rose bushes and above 5,000 roses
recovered their beautiful boom. Little Marygold’s hair had a
golden Tinge which he had never
observed in it before, had been transmuted by the effect of his
kiss. This change afew was really an improvement and made Marygold’s
hair richer than in her babyhood. When King mid had grown quite an
old man, he was fond of telling them
this marvelous story and then when he
stroked their glossy ringlets and tell them that their hair likewise had a rich
shade of gold. , which they had inherited from
their mother. And to tell you the truth, my
precious little folks, King Middas
delighting me with the children all the while, ever since that
morning, I had hated the very sight of all other gold, save this. That was a reading of the Golden
Touch a story of King Middas, and I
think that children’s Book Week is
important because it gives young authors
like myself the inspiration to create
their own piece. I’m delighted and honored and
grateful to have read this in front of
you all in the Library of Congress and I
hope to be back soon!>> [Captions will be on a break
until 1:00 p.m. EST] please tune back in then]>> [Captioner standing by]>> Please stand by for realtime
transcript.>> Hi, I’m Carla Haystack den,
at the Library of Congress and it’s my pleasure to wish you a very happy
Children’s Book capework, this year marks its 100th Anniversary
and the Library of Congress is excited to join the celebration.
We are especially excited about the 2019 theme, read now, read
forever because it looks to the past, present and the future of children’s
books, and our celebration aims to do the same. Today, the Library of Congress
is launching a new digital collection of children’s book
selections. This new collection is made up of full color, digitized versions of
dozens of specially selected children’s books from our
general and rare book collection. Our hope is that
these books will be enjoyed equally by children, their
parents and teachers. We organized the collection into
three main categories. Learning to read, reading to learn, and
reading for fun. To help us connect young readers of today
with these historic children’s books we’ve teamed up with the
voices of contemporary creators of
children’s literature. Local authors who are members of the
Chin’s Book Guild of Washington D.C. will be reading 20 of these
special books to you right from the young reader’s center from
the Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress starting
right now and continuing for the next few hours. As you listen
do keep in mind that every one of these stories that we have
selected existed when the first children’s book week was
celebrated 100 years ago, so get comfortable, and put your
listening ears on. Here we go!>> Hello, my name is Katherine
Marsh, I am the author, most recently,
and today, I am delighted to be reading
Mother Goose and hyrogliphics which is not quite as old as you’d think
since it was published in 1855. Mother Goose nursery rhymes have
been enjoyed by children for centuries. One early claim to the author’s
actual identity had the rhymes starting
with goose, printer Thomas Fleet’s
mother-in-law which loved to sing songs and tell stories to
children. Mr. Fleet supposedly gathered
the rhymes together and printed them in
1719 but no copy of that work has been found and that claim has been discounted
with many others. Mother Goose remain a fictitious
but no-less beloved character today. This collection of 26 nursery
rhymes was printed in 1855. It is inviting the young reader to
interpret the many pictures that replace nouns throughout the text. Mother Goose in hyrogliphics. It is often said that folks now
days are a deal wiser than their
fathers and grandfathers but I don’t think so. For who has ever written books
like Mother Goose, Mother Hubbard,
and Mother what’s her name that lived a great while ago and books for children, two
little dears. How maybe of them owe their lives to the influence
of their soothing songs and lullabies. The world would not
have been half peopled, had not these old sages once lived and written their
invaluable books for children. When the doctor sends for
psychic for a nervous little chick, make no mistake and go to
the booksellers and buy Mother Goose in hyrogliphics that’s
what’s wanted, a book as was wrote in Egypt a long while ago
when folks knew something about the time when Mother Goose
herself was a little Goesesling. Yes buy one of these little
books and when it is torn up by another
and another until the Wee ones are old enough to read Robinson Crusoe
and the like. My word for it there is nothing like books with pictures to keep
children quiet and this is the best that was ever written, as everybody knows. Mother Goose in hyrogliphics. Little Jack Horner sat in a
corner eating a Christmas pie, he put in this thumb and pulled
out a plum and said Oh, what a great boy am I. Pussy cat, Pussy cat where have
you been? I’ve been to London to see the
queen. Pussy cat I frightened a little mouse hiding under her chair. Ride a horse to chair and cross,
to see a lady jump on a White House with rings on her fingers and bells on her
toes and she shall have music wherever
she goes. Hush-abye baby, upon the tree
top, when the wind blows the cradle
will rock, when the bow breaks the cradle will fall and down tumble
cradle, baby and all. Hey, diddle diddle the cat and
the fiddle the cow jumped over the
moon. The little dog laughed to see
the sport, and the dish ran away
with the spoon. One, two, buckle my shoe. Three, four, shut the door. Five, six, pick up sticks. Seven, eight, hang the gate. Nine, ten, a good fat hen.
Eeleven, we’ve, ring the bell, their teen, four teen, draw the
curtain, fifteen, sixteen, go to meeting, seventeen, ate teen, to hear the
preaching, nineteen, twenty, that’s aplenty. Little boy blue, come blow your
horn. The sheep are in the meadows,
the cows and the corn. Is this the way you mind your
sheep? Under the Haystack fast asleep. Tom, Tom, the Piper’s son, stole
a pig and away he run. The pig as eat and Tom was beat and Tom
ran crying down the street. There was an old woman who lived
in a shoe, she had so many children, she didn’t know what
to do. She gave them some Broth without
any bread, she whipped them all soundly and put them to
bed. Sing a song of six Pence, a
pocket full of rye, four and twenty black birds baked in a
pie. When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing, and wasn’t this a
Dainty dish to set before the King. The King was in the
parlor counting out his money, the queen was in the kitchen
eating bread and honey. The Maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes, and then along
came a black bird and nipped off her
nose. Bah Bah black sheep, have you
any wool. Yes Mary have I, three bags
full. One for my master and one for my
came Dame, and one for the little boy that lives in the
lane. So I want to thank you for
joining me today and I wanted to say a brief word about
children’s Book Week which I feel so fortunate to celebrate here
at the Young Reader’s Center at the
Library of Congress. This year the center is
celebrating enduring children’s books as
well as new ones and when I write books for children I want to make sure that I’m
writing for the children of today and also the children of tomorrow and I think
all children’s book writers hope that their books will live on in
the hearts of children and in the hearts of grown-ups who have
children always inside them, their childhood self, so thank
you, very much for joining me today. I’m cats rib Marsh. I’m Katherine Marsh. I’m Shadra Strickland. Today I’m be reading toy A
applepie book. It teaches the alphabet as she
tells the story of eating an apple pie. Her illustrations here of happy,
well-fed and scrubbed, clean children, are good examples of childhood. A apple pie, by Kate Greenaway. A apple pie. B, bit it. C, cut it. D, dealt it. E, eat it. F, fought for it. G, got it. H, had it. J, jumped for it. K, knelt for it. L, longed for it. M, mourned for it. N, nodded for it. O, opened it. P, peaked in it. Q, quartered it. R, ran for it. S, Sang for it. T, took it. U, V, W, X, Y, and Z all had a
large slice and went off to bed. [LAUGHTER] The end. Now if I were illustrating this
book, we wouldn’t have any fighting. There would also be a
party at some point where everyone gets to
share the pie, [LAUGHTER] . I hope you enjoyed today’s reading
of Kate Greenaway’s A apple pie. Thank you very much.>> Hello, my name is Debbie
Levy, I’m the author of 25 books for young
people and my latest book, this Promise
of Change, cover a superb echo of
homes. Today I will be reading Humpty
Dumpy published in 1903. The most famous for his
illustrations of the wonderful Wizard of oz
writes and illustrates this book about the
son who frets over his fragile state and wants to avoid his
father’s fate and he takes the advice of a wise hen, asks
the farmer’s wife for help and turns his future into one of resilience
and fearlessness. So Denslow’s Humpty Dumpty.
He was a smooth, round little chap with a winning smile and a
great golden heart in his broad breast. Only one thing troubled Humpty,
and that was he might fall and crack
his thin, light skin. He wished to be hard all the way through
for he felt his heart wobble when he walked or ran about so
off he went to the black hen for advice. This hen was kind and wise so
she was just the one for him to go to
with this trouble. Your father, old humpty said to
him, was very foolish, and would take warning from no one. You know what the poet said of
him. Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great
fall, all the kings horses and all the kings men,
cannot put humpty together again, so you see he came to a
very bad end, just because he was wreckless and would not take
a hint from anyone. It was much worse than a scrambled egg. The
King, his horses and his men did all they could for him but his
case was hopeless, said the hen, and shook her head sadly. What you must do, continue the
hen, as she wiped a tear from her bright blue eye, is to go to
the farmer’s wife next door and tell her to put you in
a pot of boiling hot water. Your skin is so hard and smooth
it will not hurt you and when you come out, you may do as you
wish, nothing can break you. You can tumble about to your
heart’s content and you will not break,
nor even dent yourself. So, humpty rolled in next door
and told the farmer’s wife that he wanted to be put in boiling hot water as he
was too brittle to be of any use to himself or to anyone else.
Indeed you shall, said the farmer’s wife. What is more, I
shall wrap you up in a piece of spotted Calico, so that
you will have a nice-colored dress and come out looking as bright as an
Easter egg so she tied him up in a new rag and dropped him into the copper
kettle of boiling water that was on the Harth. It was pretty hot
at first but he soon got used to it and was happy for
he felt himself getting harder every minute. He did not have
to stay in water long before he was quite well done,
and as hard as a brick, all the way
through, so untying the rag, he jumped out of the kettle as
tough and as bright as any hard boiled egg. The Calico marked him from head
to foot with big bright red spots and he
was a nimble and marry as a circus
clown. The farmer’s wife shook with laughter to see the pranks
of him for he frisked about from table to chair and mantelpiece.
He would fall from the shelf to the floor just to show how hard he
was and after thanking the good woman politely for the service
she had done him, he walked out into the sunshine on the clothes
line like a rope dancer to see the live wide world.
Of the travels of Humpty Dumpty much could be said. He went East, West, North and
North. He sailed the seas, he walked and rode on the land
through all the countries of the earth and all his life-long, he
was happy and content. Sometimes as a clown in a circus
he would make fun for old and young, again as a wandering musician, he
Twanged the strings of his banjoe and Sung a
song and so on through all his travels he would lighten the
cares of others and make them forget their sorrows and fill
every heart with joy but wherever he went in sunshine or rain, he
never forgot to sing the praises of
the wise black hen, nor the good kind farmer’s wife who had
started him in life, hardened against sorrow, with a big heart
in the right place, for the cheer and comfort of others. I hope you liked this surprising
and perhaps a little odd version of
Humpty Dumpty. I did. You never know what you’ll find in a
book! I’m enjoying being here at the Library of Congress for
children’s book week. The theme for this 100th
Anniversary is read now, read forever, which
I love. Why do I love this theme? Because reading and
books are things that we have for our entire lives, forever.
We may change schools, we may change where we live, we may
change our favorite foods, we may change our minds but once
we’re reading we’ve got that forever and that doesn’t ever
have to change. Again I’m Debbie Levy, and I
hope you enjoyed Humpty Dumpty. I’m Leslie Long and I’m going to
real the Tail of Mrs. Piggy Winkle by Batrix Potter, she had
a lot of little animal friends that she liked to draw pictures
of and write stories about and one was her little pet
hedgehog, Mrs. Piggywinkle. This is my friend here, and he’s
soft, but real hedgehogs are kind of
prick Ely, so they can avoid being some bigger animals lunch. In the story, there’s a little
girl named lucy and she’s wearing a
pinafor, and that was a kind of a little
apron sort of a smock thing that little girls wore over their
dresses to keep them clean when they played, so
there’s also a style and a style is a set of
steps on either side of a stone or wall,
so it’s easy to get from one side to the
other. So let’s read. The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle. Once upon a time, there was a
little girl named lucy who lived at a
farm called Littletown. She was a good little girl, only
she was always losing her pocket
handkerchiefs. One day little lucy came into the farm yard
crying, Oh, she did cry so. I’ve lost my pocket Hanken. Have you seen them? The kitten went on washing her
right paws, so lucy asked the speckled
hen. Sally Henny penny have you found
three pocket handkins? But the speckled hen ran into
the barn. And then lucy asked the Robin
sitting on a twig. Robin looked five ways at lucy
with his bright black eye and he flew
over a file and away. Lucy climbed upon the style and
looked up the hill behind Littletown. A little that goes up, up into
the clouds, and though it had no
top, and a great way up the hill-side she thought she saw some white things spread
on the ground. Lucy scrambled up the hill as
fast as her legs would carry her. She ran along a steep pathway,
up and up, until Little-town was down
below. She could have dropped the
pebble down the chimney.
Presently, she came to a spring, bubbling out from the hillside.
Someone had stood a tin can upon a stone to catch the water, but
the water was already running over for the can was no bigger
than an egg cup. And where the sand upon the path was wet, there were foot marks of a
very small person. Lucie ran on and on. The path ended on a big rock. The grass was short and green,
and there were close props with
lines of rushes and a heap of tiny
clothespins, but no pocket handkerchiefs and
there was something else, a door,
straight into the hill, and inside it,
someone was singing. Lucie knocked, once, twice, and
interrupted the song and a little frightened voice called out
“whose that”? Lucie opened the door and what do you think there
was inside the hill? A nice, clean kitchen, with a
flagged floor, and wooden beams, just
like any other farm kitchen, only the
ceiling was so low that Lucie’s head nearly touched it, and the pots and pans were
small, and so was everything there. There was a nice, hot smell and
at the table, with an iron in her hand,
stood a very stout, short person staring anxiously at Lucie. Her
print gown was tucked up and she was wearing a large apron over a
striped Peticoat. Her little black nose went sniff El sniff
El sniff El and her eyes went twinkle twinkle and underneath
her cap where Lucie had yellow curls, that little person had Prickles.
Who are you, said Lucie? Have you seen my pocket handkins? The little person made this and
Oh, yes if you please them, Oh, yes
if you please them, I’m an excellent
clear starcher and she took something out of the clothes basket and spread it
on the ironing blanket. What’s that thing, said Lucie?
That’s not my pocket handkin. Oh, no, if you please, that’s a
little waste coat belonging to Cock
Robin and she ironed it and fold it and put it on one side. And then she took something else
and that isn’t my Pinny, said Lucie. Oh, no, that’s a table cloth, belonging to Jenny Wren. Look
how stained with current wine, it’s very bad to wash, said Mrs.
Tiggy-Winkle. Her nose went sniffel and snuff
El and she fetched another hot iron from the fire. There’s one of my pocket
handkins cried Lucie and Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle ironed it and took
out the frills. Oh, that is lovely, said Lucie.
And what are those long yellow things with fingers like gloves?
Oh, that’s a pair of stockings. Look how she’s worn the heels
out from scratching in the yard. She’ll very soon go bare foot
said Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle. So there’s another hand core
Chief but it isn’t mine, it’s red. That one belongs to old
Mrs. Rabbit and it did so smell of onions. I’ve had to wash it
separately. I can’t get out the smell. There’s another one of mine,
said Lucie. What are those funny little
white things? That’s a pair of mittens
belonging to Tabby Kitten. I only have to iron them she
washes them herself. There’s my last pocket handkin,
said Lucie. And what are you dipping into
the basin of starch? They are little shirt fronts
belonging to Tom Mouse, most terrible
particular. Now I finished my ironing, I’m going to air some
clothes. What are these dear soft fluffy
things, said Lucie? Oh, those are woolly coats
belonging to the little lambs. Will their jackets take off,
asked Lucie? Oh, yes if you please them. Look at the mark
on the shoulder and here is one marked and three
that come from Little-town. They’re always marked at washing
said Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and she put up all sorts of sizes of clothes, small brown
coats of mice and one mole-skin coat with no tail belonging to
squirrel and a very much blue jacket belonging to
Peter Rabbit and a petty coat not
marked but had gone lost in the washing and at last the basket was empty. Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle made tea, a
cup for herself and a cup for Lucie. They sat before the fire
on the bench and looked sideways at one another. Mrs.
Tiggy-Winkle hand holding the tea cup was very very brown and
wrinkly with the soap and all through her gown and her cap,
there were hair pins sticking out so that Lucie didn’t like to sit
too near her. When they had finished tea, they
tied up the clothes in bundles, and
Lucie’s pocket handkerchiefs were folded
up and fastened with a silver safety
pin, and then they made up the fire and came out and locked the door, and hid the
key under the door. And then away down the hill,
treaded Lucie and Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and the bundles of
clothes. All the way down the path little animals came out to
meet them and the very first that they met were
Peter Rabbit and Benjamin Bunny. And she gave them their nice
clean clothes and all of the little animals and birds were so very much
obliged to dear Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle. So at the bottom of the hill,
when they came to the style, there was nothing left to carry except Lucie’s one
little bundle. Lucie scrambled up the style with a bundle in
her hand and then she turned to say goodnight and to thank the
washer woman, but what a very odd thing. Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle
had not waited either for thanks, or for the washing bill. She was running running running
up the hill, and where was her white
cap and her shawl and gown and Petticoat?
And how small she had grown and how brown and covered with prickels,
but Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle was nothing but a hedgehog. Now
some people say that little Lucie had been asleep upon the
style, but then how could she have found three clean pocket handkins pinned with a
silver safety pin? And besides, I have seen the
door into the back of the hill and
besides, I am very well acquainted with dear
Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle. The end. Thank you!>> Hi, I’m Jean Diehl, and I’m
reading the Pied Piper is our next book. Here, a Kate Greenaway
illustrates the telling of the tale of the Pied Piper and the legend, pied describes
the Piper’s multi-colored clothing dates back to the
middle ages. The Piper is hired to rid hamlin
of its rats and when he’s not paid for his labors he leads off
the town children with very same pipe. The pied paper of Hamelin by
Robert Browning illustrated by Kate
Greenaway. The Pied Piper of Hamelin, it’s
by famous Hanover City, washes its wall on the Southern side, and a
pleasanter spot you never spied but when begins almost 500 years ago, to see the town’s
folks suffer so was a pity. Rats, they felt the dogs and
killed the cats and ate the cheeses and
licked the soup from the cook’s own laid
Els, split open the kegs, and made nests inside them Sunday
hats and even spoiled the women’s chats by drowning their
speaking with sleeking and squeeking and
50 different sharps. At last, to the people in a body
to the town hall came flocking, clear
cried they our mayors are naughty and as for our corporation, shocking, and
an hour they sat in counsel, at length the mayor broke silence,
I wish I were a mile hence, Oh, for a trap, a trap, a trap, just
as he said this what should half of the chamber door but a gentle
tap. Bless us, cried the mayor, what’s that? Only a scraping of shoes on the
Matt, anything like a son of a rat makes my heart go pitter
Pat. Come in the mayor cried looking
bigger and in did come the strangest
figure. His queer, long coat from heel to head was half of
yellow and half of red, and he himself was tall and thin,
with sharp blue eyes, each like a pin. There was no guessing his kin,
and nobody could enough admire the
tall man and his quaint attire. He advanced to the counsel table
and please, Your Honor, said he, I’m able by means of a secret
charm to draw all creatures living beneath the sun that
creep or swim or fly or run, after me, so as you never saw, and I
Chiefly use my charm on creatures that do
people harm, the mole and viper and people call me the Pied
Piper. And here, they noticed around
his neck, a Scarf of red and yellow stripe
to match of his coat with the self same check and at the end hung a pipe
and his fingers they noticed were
ever-straying as if impatient to be playing upon this pipe, as low it dangled over his
vest. And as for what your brain
bewilders if will you give me a thousand guilders? One, 50,000 was the exclamation
of the astonished mayor and corporation. Into the street the Piper
stepped, smiling first a little smile, as if he knew what magic slept in his
quiet pipe the while. Then, like a musical adept to
blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled and
green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled
like a candle flame were salt is sprinkled, and three notes the
pipe uttered, you heard as if an Army arm Army puttered
and the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling and out of the houses the rats came
tumbling, brown rats, black rays, grey rats, gay, young, friskers,
fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, and
pricking whiskers, families by tens and dozens, brothers,
sisters, husband’s, wives followed the Piper for their
lives. From street to street he piped
them and step for step they followed dancing until they came to the River,
where in all plunged and parished. You should have heard the
Hamelin people ringing the bells until they rocked the steeple.
Go, cried the mayor, and poke out the nests and block out the
holes. Consult with carpenters and builders and leave in our
town not even a trace of the rats. When suddenly, up the
face of the Piper perked in the marketplace with a first if you please, my thousand guilders, thousand guilders the
mayor looked blue so did the
corporation too. Our business was done at the
River’s Brink, and what’s dead come to
life I think but as for the guilders we spoke of them as you
very well was in joke besides our losses have made us
thrifty, a thousand guilders, come, take 50. The Piper’s face fell and he
cried. I can’t wait, beside and folks
who put me in a passion may find me pipe
after another fashion. How, cried the mayor. Do you think
I’m being worse treated than a cook? You threaten us, blow your pipe
there until you burst. Once more he stepped into the
street and to his lips again laid his long
pipe and he blew three notes, sweet, soft
notes as yet musicians coming never
gave the air, there was a wrestling that
seemed like crowds at pitching and hustling, small feet were Paterring,
wooden shoes clatterring, little hands clapping and little
tongues chattering and like fouls in a farm yard, out came the
children running, all the little Boys and Girls with Rosie cheeks and flocks and
curls and sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls tripping and
skipping, ran merrily after the wonderful music with
shouting and laughter. The mayor was dumb and the
counsel stood as if they were changed into blocks of wood.
Unable to move a step or cry to the children merely skipping by,
could only follow with the eye, that joyous crowd at the Piper’s
back, but how the mayor was on the rack and the
counsel’s beat as the Piper turned from the
high street to where they rolled its waters right in the way of
their sons and daughters. When low, as they reach the
mountainside, a wonder us portal opened wide, as if the cavern was
suddenly hollowed and the Piper advanced and the children
followed and when all were in to the very last, the door in
the mountainside shut fast. Alas, alas, for Hamelton, they
wrote the story on the column and on the great church window
painted the same to make the world acquainted, how their
children were stolen away, and there, it
stands, to this very day. Well, thank you for listening to
the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Like many old ones this one includes
vocabulary and story elements that can be challenging for
modern audiences and it also contains some enduring themes. The theme of this year’s
children’s book week, read now, read forever, celebrates the
past and the important future of children’s literature, and the
importance of making reading, being read to, or reading to
others a part of your life, now and in the future.
As we celebrate the centennial of children’s book week, we
celebrate that reach back through history and also forward
to the present day, to get books into the hands of every child,
and for every child in our wonderfully diverse nation that
is our nation’s strength, to be able to see themselves in a
book. On the one hand the old tale of
the Pied Piper is about a time in a world that no longer exists
and the outcome in Robert Brownings telling only one of
many versions, is stark and harsh. This tale is also an
example of the time less universal ideas that can be found in stories from the past,
and also in the present, just to cite one. The idea that if a person goes
back on a promise they may unexpectedly hurt others that
they care about. Many themes of old and new books are shared for
instance the theme of how a young teen finds resilience to
cope with troubles at home which is a
subject I explored in tiny infinite. Thank you again for listening. Hello. My name is Salihah Aakil, or Sasa, and I am
a co-author in a book and soon to
be published and I don’t have it here with me but it will be
coming out this June. So today I’m going to be reading
little red riding hood from the animal stories published in 1909. Jacob grim collected folk tails
and published them in 1912 for an adult audience and this
translated into English for children was illustrated with engaging work and the
depiction of little red riding hood is particularly satisfying
as she watches the wolf tumble into the trough.
Little red riding hood. There was once a sweet name
named little red riding hood much beloved for everybody but
most of all by her grandmother who never knew how to make
enough of her. Once she sent little red riding
hood a red velvet and she never wore anything else. One day,
her mother said to her, come, little red riding hood. Here
are cakes and wine for you to take to your grandmother. She
is weak and ill and they will do her good. Make haste and walk
properly and nicely and don’t run or you might fall and break
the wine and there would be none left for your grandmother and
when you go into her room don’t forget to say good morning. I will take it to her mother and
gave her hand upon it and now the grandmother lived far away
in the wood, and when little red riding hood reached the wood,
she met the wolf but she didn’t know what an animal she was she
did not feel threatened. Good day, little red riding hood,
said he. Thank you, kindly, wolf, said
shed. Where are you going so early little red riding hood?
To my grandmothers. What are you carrying under your
apron? Cakes and wine we baked
yesterday. Where does your grandmother live? A quarter of a mile walk from
here, by the bushes. The wolf said that tender young thing
would be a delicious Morse El and taste better than the old
one and I must somehow get both of them and then he walked by
little red riding hood and said little red riding hood, just
look at the pretty flowers that are growing all around you and
don’t you think, I don’t think you are listening to the song of
the birds. You are posting along as if you were going and
it is so delightful out here in the woods. Little red riding
hood glanced around her and when she saw the sunbeams darting
here and there through the trees she thought to herself, if I was
to take a fresh flower to grandmothers she would be very
pleased and it is early in the day so I shall reach her in
plenty of time so she ran about looking for flowers and now she
picked one and saw a pretty one a little farther off and she
went farther and farther into the wood but the wolf went
straight to the grandmother’s house. Incomed at the door.
Whose there, cried the grandmother. Little red riding
hood he answered and I brought you cake and wine. Please open
the door. Lift the latch cried the grandmother. I’m too feeble to get up so the
wolf lifted the latch and the door flew open and he fell upon
the grandmother and ate her up without saying one word and then
he put on her cap, laid down in her bed and drew the curtains.
Little red riding hood was all this time running about among
the flowers and when she gathered as many as she could
hold she remembered her grandmother and set off to go to
her. She was surprised to find the door standing open and when
she came inside she felt very strange and talked to herself.
Oh, dear how uncomfortable I feel. And I was so glad this
morning to go to my grand mother and when she said good morning, there was no
answer, and then subsequent up to the bed and drew back the
curtains and there lay the grandmother with her cap pulled
over her eyes so that she looks very odd. Oh, grandmother what large ears
you have. But better to hear with. Oh, grand mother what
great eyes you have got. The better to see with. Oh, grandmother, what large
hands you have got. The better to make of you with.
But grandmother what a terrible large mouth you have got. The better to devower you and no
sooner had the wolf said it he made one bounce on the bed and
swallowed up poor little red riding hood and then the wolf had satisfied his hunger, laid
down in the bed and began to snore loudly. The huntsmen heard him as he was
pass by the house and thought I better see if there’s anything
the matter with her and then he went into the room and walked up
to the bed and saw the wolf lying there. At last, I find
you, you old sinner, he said. I’ve been looking for you a long
time and he made up his mind that the wolf had swallowed the grandmother
whole and she might yet be saved since he did not fight fire but
took a pair of shears and began to slit up the wolf’s belly and
when he made a few snips little red riding hood appeared and then
jumped out and cried Oh, dear how frightened I have been, it
is so dark inside the wolf and out came the old grandmother
still living and breathing. Little red riding hood went and
quickly fetched large stones which she filled the wolf’s
belly so when he wakes up and was going to Russia way the
stones were so heavy he went down and fell dead.
They were all three very pleased. The huntsman took off
the wolf’s skin and carried it home. The grandmother ate the
cakes and drank the wine and held her head up again and little red riding hood
said she would mind what her mother had told her and must
also be related to how a few days after, when little red
riding hood was again taking cakes to her grandmother another
wolf spoke to her and wanted to tempt her to leave the past but
she was on her guard and went straight on her way and tells
her grandmother how the wolf had met her and wished her a good
day but had looked so wicked about the eye that she thought
if it had not been on the high road
you would have devoured her. Come said grand mother we will
shut the door so that he may not get in and soon after the wolf came knocking at
the door calling out open the door grand mother I am little
red riding hood bringing you cakes and after that the wolf
went by the house and got upon the roof
to wait until little red riding hood should return home in the
evening and then he went to spring down on her and devower
her in the darkness but the grandmother discovered his plot. Now, there stood before the
house, a great stone trough, and the grandmother said to the child, little red
riding hood, take the bucket and carry the weight of water they were boiled
in and pour it in the trough and little red riding hood did so and so the
great trough was quite full and when the smell reached the nose
of the wolf he looked around and stretched out his neck so far he
lost balance and began to slip and he slipped into the great
trough and was drowned. Then, little red riding hood
went home. The end. So, the year of the theme of
this year’s children’s book Fest is read
now, read forever and I believe that that is important, because
it encourages us to not only look to the past for context,
but to look to the future for new and bright ideas and
hopefully we can provide some of those for our readers including me and yourselves with
books to come and books that have come. Thank you. The Slant Book was first done in
1910 and it is pretty amazing. It starts like this, where bobby
lives there is a hill. A hill so steep and high, would
fill the bill for Jack and Jill. Their famous act to try. Once, bobby broke away, and down
this hill it kited, the careless
nurse screamed in dismay, but bobby was delighted. He clapped his hands in a manner
rude and left while close behind, the
nurse pursued in hopeless construer
nation and officers slid off the lid as
bobby was in sight and bell lowed out you’re scorching kid,
I won you in, all right? But down the Go-Kart swiftly
sped and smashed that cop completely, as he sailed, or bobby’s head, Bob
sniped a button neatly. A funny sun, was standing near
the curb. Beside his push cart wrapped in
piece, that not could well disturb, but
all at once, he got a shock, the Go-Kart speeding down, collided
with his fancy stock, and littered up the town.
The run-away then swerved a bit and snapped the hydrant short,
which accident proved quite a bit, of
rather novel sort. The waterspouted in a jet as
much as 10 feet high, and all were soaked and nearly choked, who chance to be
nearby. A farmer’s wife, miss Aggie
Moore was a basket full of eggs she bore to barter in the trade. The Go-Kart and the lady met
informally no doubt and made an omelette and spread it all
about. A painter on a ladder perched
was working at his calling, and
against its foot, the Go-Kart letter .ed and
his pot of paint tumbled down and it settled, about a crown, Oh,
my, but he was nestled. A German band across the street
which was a moment in discrete the way that things were
tending. The Go-Kart struck, the base
drum square, and passed completely through it and the
drummer modally tore his hair and said by did you do it! Some working men were putting in
a heavy, glass plate front. The Go-Kart then came rushing in
and did a little stunt. It smashed a bit, two men were
bearing and sped on down the slanting
plane and left them mad and swearing. An
automobile big and brown was chugging up the hill and met the
Go-Kart plunging down with speed that
boded ill & at once there rose a noise of
people in dismay, a sandwich man butted in and opened up the way. A Ladd was rushing with a hat
some lady had been buying and the Go-Kart
caught and laid him flat and sent that hat back flying. The hat fell out and settled
down upon our bobby’s head and say, I’m
the kid in town that precious rascal said. A news boy, next, was somehow
hit, the Go-Kart swift, and fill the air
with extras. One copy Bobly needly scooped
and saw this wild display in type so bold, a Go-Kart breaks away. Then as the Go-Kart speeded by,
a bull dog seized on the handle on the
fly and gripped tenacious. The Go-Kart speed was so increased,
the dog streamed out behind it and bobby turned to pet the
beast, which didn’t seem to mind it. And emulating down the street
was Ms. Lulu Dellacre seal O’ Grade, the Go-Kart knocked her off her feet
and her on board the lady. One chubby hand extending, but
the heavens rendering. And up the grade, a year link
calf was leading, the creature was a
stubborn, and he lunged about and the Go-Kart caught between the rope, mid-way
between the calf and hearder and both
fell in behind the cries of murder! Two chappies at the tennis net,
were battling fast and hard and the Go-Kart skidded off the
street and shot across the yard. The game was 40-all but then it
didn’t end that day. The Go-Kart Dashed into the net
and carried it away. On came the Go-Kart, but down
the grade, the town was now behind it and
ran into an orchard shade, where providence resigned it, but
then, it only grazed a tree, and set it all a shiver,
the ripened fruit fell and likewise Sammy sliver. Then, through a watermelon patch
that cart descended and split the melons by the batch, the
farmer was offended and tried to stop its wild career which was a silly notion, it passed him
promptly to the rear, with quite a rapid
motion. A picnic party on the green,
were seated at their lunch and the Go-Kart
Dashed upon the scene and through the happy brunch. Pickles and ham and cake were
jumbled in a mess and then straightaway rose these picnickers and shouted
for redress. An artist sketching on the
slope, a lively air was humming and so absorbed was he, he failed to note the
Go-Kart was coming. A crash, the air was filled and
damaged quite beyond repair, and a Damsel milked a
cow out in the pasture green, the
birdies Sang from bush and bow, all nature
was serene. When suddenly, a thunderbolt
dispelled the sweet illusion and the
Go-Kart gave it a jolt and all was wild
confusion. Upon a rustic bridge, a chap
cast out the bait inviting, and presently
he took a nap and dreamed the fish were biting. Then came the Go-Kart and rudely
him awakened and at first he thought he’d caught a whale but
found he was mistaking. The longest night must have to
end as well as a beginning, and so this cart, you may depend, was bound to see
it spinning. It crashed into a Hemlock stump
that chanced to block its way and bobby made a flying jump and landed in the
Hay. As I said I’m Katie Kelly and I
am mad for books. When I was a kid, we had some books hanging
around that had belonged to my dad and I saved my books for my
children and now my granddaughter, when
she gets a little bit bigger will be reading their books and mine and their
grandfathers, so, I think the key is even when it doesn’t make
so much sense, like in this poem we just read,
some of the words are really outdated and nothing we ever use
any more but it’s kind of interesting to find out what
words meant at the time and what was popular, and how they said
things. We never say Twas any more but
anyway I hope you guys enjoy reading and look for things that are older than
you!>> Hello, my name is Susan
Stockdale, and I’m the author about picture books for young
children. Today I’m be reading the
emperor’s new clothes, by Hans Christian Anderson publish in 1911. Hans Christian Anderson’s works
are probably the most often retold stories in children’s
literature. He wrote 156 tales and stories seven of which are
included here illustrated with 28 color plates and the
emperor’s new clothes is one of his most
delightful. Many years ago, there was an
emperor who was so fond of new clothes that he spent all his
money on them. He cared nothing about his
shoulders, soldiers nor for driving in the woods except for
the sake of showing off his new clothes. He had a costume for
every hour in the day and instead of saying as one does
about any other King, he is in his council chamber, and here
one always said the emperor is in his dressing room.
Life was very gay in the great town where he lived, strangers
came into visit every day and among them,
they gave themselves and said they
knew how towerier the most beautiful steps imaginable, the
colors and patterns were usually fine but the clothes had a
particular quality of becoming invisible to every person who is
not fit for that office he held or if he was in
possibly dull. And those must be clothes
thought the emperor by wearing I should be able to discover, and
I shall distinguish the wise men from the fools and yes I must
certainly order some of that stuff to be woven for me. He
paid the two a lot of money in advance so they might begin
their work at once. They did put up two looms and
pretended to we’ve, but they had nothing whatever upon their
shuttles. At the outset, they asked for a quantity of the
famous silk and the purest gold thread all of which they put
into their own bag while they worked away at the empty looms
far into the night. I should like to know how they
are getting on, the emperor but when
he reflected anyone who was stupid would not be able to see
it and he certainly thought that he had no fears for himself, but
still he thought he would send somebody else first to see how
it was getting on. Everybody in the town knew what wonderful power this stuff
possess Z and everyone was anxious to see how stupid his
neighbor wad. He will be best able to see how
the stuff looks for he is a clever
man and no one fulfills his beauty better than he does. So, the good old minister went
into the room where the two were working
in the empty room and helping preserve the old minister
opening his eyes very wide, why I can’t see a thing but he took
care not to say so and both begged him to be good enough to
keep the step a little nearer and asked if he did not think of
a good pattern and beautiful coloring
and he pointed to the empty room and the minister stared as hard
as he could but he could not see anything for of course there was
nothing to see. Is it possible that I am a fool? I’ve never thought so and am I
not fit for my post? It will never do to say that I can’t see
the stuff. Well, sir, you don’t say anything about the stuff, said the one
whose pretending to Wave. Oh, it is beautiful, quite charming and these colors I will
certainly tell the emperor that this stuff pleases me very much.
We’re delighted to hear you say so and then they named all of
the colors and described the pattern and the old minister
paid great attention to what they said so as to be able to
repeat it whether en they got home and then they went on to
demand more money, more silk, and more gold, to be able to
proceed with the Waving, but they put it
all into their own pockets and they
went on before with the empty loom. The emperor had another
faithful official to see how this stuff was getting on and if
it would soon be ready. The same thing happened to him as
the minister. He looked and looked but it was only an empty
loom he could see nothing at all. Is not this a beautiful
piece? Showing and explaining the beautiful pattern and colors
which were not there to be seen. I know I am not a fool, felt the
man so it must be I’m unfit for my
good post. It is very strange, though, however one must not let
it appear so he praised the stuff he did not see and assured
him of his delight and beautiful colors of the design. It is
absolutely charming, he said to the emperor. Everybody in the
town was talking about this somebodied stuff. Now the
emperor thought he would like to see it while it was still on the
loom, so accompanied by a number of selected couriers among them
were the two faithful officials who had already seen the
imaginary stuff and he went after this for working away as
hard as ever as they could at the empty loom. It is magnificent, said the
officials, only see what design, what colors, and they pointed to
the empty loom for they thought no doubt the others could see
the stuff. What thought the emperor? I see nothing at all
this is terrible. Am I a fool or not fit to be emperor and
nothing worse could happen to me. Oh, it is beautiful said
the emperor. It has my highest approval and he nodded
satisfaction as he gazed at the empty loom. Nothing would
induce him to say he couldn’t see anything. The whole suite gazed and gazed
but saw nothing more than the others, however they Alex plain
with his majesty, it is very beautiful and he advised him to
wear a suit made of this wonderful cloth on the occasion
of a great procession which was just about to take place. It is
magnificent, gorgeous, excellent, went from mouth to
mouth and they were all equally delighted with it and the
emperor gave each of them to be worn in their button holes and
the title of gentleman Wavers. They said the whole night, and
16 candles, so that people might see how anxious they were to get
the emperor’s new clothes ready. They pretended to take the stuff
off the loom and cut it out in the air with a huge pair of scissors, and
they stitches away with needles out any thread in them and at
last they said now the emperors new clothes are ready. The emperor went to them himself
and both raised one arm in the eras if they were holding
something and said see, these are the trowsers, this is the
coat, here is the mantel and so on. It is as light as a
spider’s web. One might think one has nothing on but that is
the very beauty of it. Yes, said all of the couriers but
they cannot see anything for there was nothing to see. Will
your majesty be graciously please to take off your clothes
so we may put on the new ones, along here before the great
mirror? The emperor took off all his clothes and they
pretended to give him one article of dress after the other
of the new ones which they pretended to make and they
pretended to fasten something around his waste and this was
the train and that the emperor turned round and round in front
of the mirror. How well his majesty looks ic the new clothes
and how becoming they are cried all of the people around, what
colors? They are the most gorgeous reasons. The canopies
waiting outside, which is to be carried over, your majesty
in the procession, so the master of ceremonies. Well I’m quite
ready said the emperor. Don’t the clothes fit well? And then
he turned round and round again in the front of the mirror so he could be looking at his things. And they stooped to look to the
ground with both hands and they walked along with their hands in
the air. They dared not let it appear that they could see
anything and then the emperor walked along in the procession
under the gorgeous canopy and everybody in the streets and at the windows
exclaimed how beautiful the emperor’s new
clothes are what a splendid train and they fit to
perfection, nobody would let it appear that he could see nothing
for there you’d not be fit for his post or else he was a fool.
None of the emperors clothes had been so successful before, but
he has got nothing on said a little child. Oh, listen to his father and one
person wispered to the other what the child had said. He has
nothing on. A child said he has nothing but, but he has nothing
on, at last cried all of the people. The Emma I’veed for he
knew it was true but he thought the procession must go on now so
he held himself stiffer than ever and the chamber lanes held
up the invisible train. Children’s book week is
important to me because it celebrates the readers of new
books and books open up children’s imaginations and
learn about the world and develop compassion and
empathy for others and books often provide messages that can
make them universal and time less and the I think I can, I
think I can, and the little engine that could really
effected me as a little girl when I read it. It taught me to
be persistent and never give up. I credit that with helping me
become a published author and illustrate or of picture books
of that nature like this one here, Bring on the Birds. I hope to excite young children
about the wonders of the natural world through my paintings. Happy children’s book week,
everyone!>> Hello, my name is Carolyn
Bennett, I’m a music educator and I’m this year’s teacher and
residence at the Library of Congress. Today I will be singing a few
songs from old nursery rhymes with original tunes harmonized and published
in 1911. 30 nursery rhymes are presented
biofuel read Moffitt encouraging singing
as well as reading and this softly colored illustrations of children and
their surroundings were met with critical a claim, when the book
was first published and are still enjoyed today.>> [Piano music playing]>> ♫ Mary had a little lamb,
whose fleece was white as snow and everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was
sure to go ♫ and he followed along one day,
and it made the children love and play
play ♫. ♫ and waited patiently about until
Mary did appear, and when he went to
put his head upon her arm, as if you’d
say that I’m not afraid you’ll keep me
from all harm ♫ ♫ what makes the lamb love Mary
so? The eager children cry, Oh, Mary
loves the lamb you know, and that he
could reply. ♫ ♫ and if you keep all of them in confidence, and make them follow
you if you are always kind ♫.
Did you notice that Mary had a little lamb sounded a little
different than what you may have heard before? That’s one of the
things I love about this collection of music. Next I’d
like to sing you patty cake but there’s a little clapping
pattern that goes along with this song and I’d like you all
to help me out and if you’re listening to this at home I’d like you to try this out too. This is how the pattern will go.
>> [Indicating]>> Try that with me.>> ♫ patty cake, patty cake,
baker’s man, that I will master as quick
as I can, prick and Nick and mark it
with tea, and there will be plenty
for baby and me ♫ ♫ for baby and me, for baby and
me, and there will be plenty for baby
and me ♫. Thank you!
>> [APPLAUSE] I’d like you to think about the
song twinkle twinkle little Star. Can you hear it in your
imagination? The tune that you’re probably imagining came
from France, but in this book, Mr. Moffett uses a different
melody that came from either Spain or England. We’re not
quite sure but I hope you’ll enjoy it.>> [Piano music playing]>> ♫ twinkle twinkle little
Star, how I wonder what you are, up above
the world so high, like a diamond in the
sky. ♫ ♫ when the blazing sun is gone,
then you’ll show your little light,
twinkle twinkle all the night ♫. ♫ then the travel is in the
dark, thank you for your little spark, he
could not see which way to go, if you did
not twinkle so. ♫ ♫ in the dark sky you’ll keep,
and often through my walk, you never shine
your light, until the sun is in the
sky. ♫ Now, I’m going to need a little
bit of help on this next song, so I’m going to sing one phrase
of music that I want you to learn. When you think you’ve
got it can you join me in singing? Three blind mice, three blind
mice, three blind mice, three blind nice. ♫ three blind mice ♫
>> Very nice. Now, I would like you to keep singing that,
while I sing the rest of the song. And I think that it’ll
come together and make a really nice harmony together. Ready? ♫ three blind mice, three blind
mice, see how they run! They all run after the farmer’s
wife, who cutoff their tails with a
carving knife, did you ever hear such a tale in your life, as three blind mice ♫ [APPLAUSE]>> This next song has hand
motions that goes along with it so I’ll try them out and if
you’re watching in the room or at home I challenge you to try
them out as well. This is the mulberry bush. ♫ here we go around the mulberry
bush, the mulberry bush, here we go
around the mulberry bush, on a cold and frosty morning ♫.
♫ this is the way we wash our hands, we wash our hands, we
wash our hands, this is the way we wash our hands-on
a cold and frosty morning ♫ ♫ this is the way we dry our
hands, we dry our hands we dry our hands, this is the way we dry our hands-on a
cold and frosty morning ♫ ♫ this is the way we clap our
hands, we clap our hands, we clap our hands, this is the way we clap our hands-on
a cold and frosty morning ♫ ♫ this is the way we warm our
hands, we warm our hands, we warm our
hands, this is the way we warm our hands-on a cold and frosty morning ♫>> Now, for our last song today
I Bettman it of you already know the tune to Yankee doodle. I’d
like to sing you the refrain, because this one is just a
little bit different. ♫ Yankee doodle, doodle, Yankee
doodle dandy, they are smart and sweet and sharp as candy ♫.
I’m going to sing three versus and it would be lovely if you could
join me on the refrain. ♫ Yankee doodle came to town upon
a little pony, he stuck a father in his cap and called it macaroni
Yankee doodle, dandy, all the while he
is sweet as candy ♫. ♫ marching in and marching out
and marching town the town, here it
comes with captains and Yankee doodle,
Yankee doodle dandy, all the while he
is smart and sweet as candy ♫. ♫ Yankee doodle comes in and he
was along the way as Yankee doodle dandy. Yankee doodle doodle, Yankee
doodle dandy, all the while he is sweet
and sharp as candy ♫. Hello, my name is. Canem Sawyer, I’m the author of biographies of Ann Frank,
Harriet Tubman, Eleanor Roosevelt. Today, I will be reading the
Rocket Book by Peter Newell, published
in 1912. His innovative and off beat approach to bookmaking is on display here
and the rocket book has a rocket go off in the basement of an
apartment building and travel through each floor leaving chaos in its wake and a hole in the
center of each page. The basement. When fit, the Janney for tosses
bad kid went snooping in the basement and he found a rocket hid beneath the
window casement and he struck a match
with one fell swoop and then on the concrete kneeling he lift the rock and it
shot up through the ceiling. On the floor above, of breakfast
were partaking, crash came the rocket unannounced and set them all a
quaking. It had a catch of bottle and
then it exploded and now these people
all declare the flask was loaded.
Second one. Before the fire, old grandpa hop
dozed in his arm chair big when from a trunk the rocket burst
and carried off his wig. It passed so near his ancient
head herossed up with a start and
turning to his grandson, said you fellows
think you’re smart? Third flat. Somewhat rash, had blown a
monster bubble when Oh, there came a
blinding flash, precipitating trouble. But algae turned in mild disgust
and called to momma bracket, say,
did you hear that bubble burst? It made an awful racket.
Fourth flat. Who bought a potted pant was
dousing it with water and he fancied this would make it grow
and Joseph loved to potter. Then, through the pot, the
rocket shot, and made the scene look
sickly. Well now, said Joe, I never
thought that plant would shoot so
quickly. Fifth flat. Right here, Ties need full to
remark that Dick and little son were playing with a Noah’s ark and having
loads of fun, when all at once that rocket stout up through the ark came blazing,
the animals were tossed about and
did some stunts amazing. Sixth flat. A burglar on the next floor up,
the side board was exploring, the
family with the pup were still asleep and snoring. Just then,
up through the silverware the rocket thundered flaring,
the burglar got a dreadful scare,
and out the door went tearing Seventh flat. Ms. Briggs with no mean skill, was
playing to please her cousin Amos Gill,
who liked that sort of thing, when suddenly the rocket hot, the old piano
jumbled, it stopped that ragtime like a
shot and then through the ceiling rumbled.
Eighth flat. Up through the next floor on its way that rocket dread was tearing,
where they stood in bathrobes gay a
tepid bath preparing and the tub it
punctured like a shot and made a mighty splashing and the man was
rooted to the spot. Then, out the door, went
Dashing. Ninth flat. Bob Brooks was puffing very
heart his football to inflate while round him stood his
faithful guard, and they could hardly wait, and then came the
rocket fierce and bright and through the tumble football
rumbled. You’ve got a pair of lungs, all right, his staring
playmates grumbled. Tenth flat. The family dog was frenzied and chasing the mouser, when poof,
the rocket flashed between, and quite astonished houser. Now, if this dog had enough the
English tongue to torture, he might have growled such silly stuff as whoa
that cats a scorcher. 11th flat. While Carri cook sat with a book
the phonograph played sweetly and then came the rocket and it
smashed that instrument completely. Carri promptly turned her head attracted by the Roar, fear me
she never heard that record played before.
12th flat. He was searching for a match to
light a cigarette but failed to find
one with dispatch which threw him in a pet and just then the
rocket flared up bright before his face and crackled, supplying
him the needed light. Thanks, awfully.
13th flat. Home from the shop came the new
hat, a hat of monstrous size, it almost filled the tiny flat before her
raverrished eyes, when up through the back
so proud the rocket flared and puttered
and I said that hat was all too loud
and her husband puttered. 14th flat. Tom’s Pat had helped him start
his train and all would have been fine, had not the rocket raising cane was
on the line, it blew the engine as a scrap as in a fit of
passion, who would have thought that toy, said pap would
blow up in such fashion. Fifteenth flat. Orlando is quite at ease the Morningstar was reading, my dear
said he, here is a report worth heeding. The rocket then in sport flashed through the printed pages and
the lady gasped, a wild report, and then
swooned by easy stages. Sixteenth flat. Doc Damby was a stupid guy, so
he slept too late he placed a tatoo clock nearby to wake en
him at 8:00 but Oh, the rocket smoked that clock and
smashed its way clean through it and you
have a fine alarm, said Doc, but you
over do it. Seventeenth flat. A penny liner, stout was writing
a description and the flame shot up, he pounded out, and then through a
mild, for through his there shied a
rocket hot and missed it. I didn’t mean to be, he cried,
so do it realistic. 18th flat. Guilders gummer long
had set his head upon some strange invention, and
be careful, Gus, his good wife said, it might explode, I mentioned just
then, the pesky rocket flared and wrecked that Yankee notion. I feared as much, his wife
declared, and then fainted from emotion. Nineteenth flat. While Burt was
on his hobby horse and riding it like mad, the rocket
on his fiery course, upset the startled
Ladd. The frightened pony plunged a
lot, like fury playing tag, and whoa,
spot, said Burt, who would of thought you’re such a fiery nag.
Twentieth flat. A taxidermiest applied his trade
upon a wall Russ’ head and it really made him quite afraid to
meet its stairs so dread, when suddenly, the
rocket, bright, flared up and then was
off, Oh, cried the man in fright, just
hear that Walrus cough. Top flat. Oh, it was just a splendid
flight, that wild career but tune in all
right as you shall straight way hear. It plunged into a can of cream,
that Billy Bunk was freezing, and
froze quite stiff as it would seem, and so
subsided wheezing. Children’s book week, read now,
read forever, celebrates books that entertain, ones that make
us smile or laugh really hard, and some that
make us cry. Books that introduce us to
characters who become our very best
friends, books that help us imagine the future,
or remember the past. Many of my own books are about
the women and men who stand for social justice and have made a
difference in the world. This is a week to celebrate
books that inspire. Thank you. Hi, my name is Sasha Dowdy, I
work right here in the library of Congress young reader center
and thank you so much for joining us and hearing authors
read the 20 historic children’s books now
available online in the historic children’s selection collection.
Thank you for celebrating with us, and I hope you enjoy many
more programs to come your way.

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