Posts filed under ‘.apple’
An apple a day,
Sends the doctor away.
Apple in the morning,
Roast apple at night,
Starves the doctor outright.
Eat an apple going to bed,
Knock the doctor on the head
Three each day, seven days a week,
Rosy apple, rosy cheek.
“How would you like to find a little red house with no windows, no doors, a chimney on top, and a star inside?” asked his mother.
Johnny said he would like that very much.
They saw Johnny’s friend, Jenny, jumping rope.
“Do you know where I can find a little red house with no windows, no doors, a chimney on top, and a star inside” asked Johnny?
“No.” said Jenny. “But maybe Farmer Jones knows that.”
Johnny asked him, “Do you know where I can find a little red house with no windows, no doors, a chimney on top, and a star inside?”
“No.” said Farmer Jones. But I bet my Grandma knows. She has lived a long, long time, and she knows most everything.”
Johnny asked her, “Grandma, Jones, do you know where I can find a little red house with no windows, no doors, a chimney on top, and a star in the middle?”
Mr. Wind came and blew so hard, that an apple fell down onto Johnny’s lap.
“This is what we’ve been looking for!” shouted Johnny. They cut it open, and inside was a star.
Johnny and his mother walked home and showed Grandma Jones, Farmer Jones, and Jenny the apple. Then each of them ate a piece of the apple.
Take an apple round and red
Don’t slice down
Slice through instead
Right inside it you will see
A star as pretty as can be!
There was once upon a time a little boy who was tired of all his toys and, tired of all his play. “What shall I do ?” He asked his mother. And his mother, who always knew beautiful things for little boys to do, said, ” You shall go on a journey and find a little red house with no doors and no windows and a star inside.”
This really made the little boy wonder. Usually his mother had good ideas, but his thought that this one was very strange. “Which way shall I go?” He asked his mother. “I don’t know where to find a little red house with no doors and no window .” “Go down the lane past the farmer’s house and over the hill,” said his mother, “and then hurry back as soon as you can and tell me all about your journey.”
So the little boy put on his cap and his jacket and started out. He had not gone very far down the lane when he came to a merry little girl dancing in the sunshine. Her cheeks were like pink blooms petals and she was singing like a robin. “Do you know where I shall find a little red house with no doors and no windows and a star in inside?” asked the little boy. The little girl laughed, “Ask my father, the farmer,” she said. “Perhaps he knows.”
So the little boy went on until he came to the great brown barn were the farmer kept barrel of fat potatoes and baskets of yellow squashes and golden pumpkins. The farmer himself stood in the doorway looking out over the green pastures and yellow grain fields. “Do you know where I shall find a little red house with no doors and no windows and a star inside?” asked the little boy of the farmer. The farmer laughed too. “I lived a great many years and I never saw one.” He chuckled, “But ask Granny who lives at the foot of the hill. She knows how to make molasses, taffy and popcorn balls, and red mitten! Perhaps she can direct you.”
So the little boy went on farther still, until he came to the Granny, sitting in her pretty garden of herbs and marigolds. She was wrinkled as a walnut and as smiling as the sunshine. “Please, Dear Granny,” said the little boy. “Where shall I find a little red house with no doors and no windows and a star inside?”
Granny was knitting a red mitten, and when she heard the little boy’s question, she laughed so cheerily that the wool ball rolled of her lap and down the little pebbly path. “I should like to find that little house myself,” she chuckled. ” I would be warm when the frosty night comes and the starlight would be prettier than a candle. But ask the wind who blows about so much and listens at all the chimneys. Perhaps the wind can direct you.”
So the little boy took off his cap and tipped it politely to the Granny and went on up the hill rather sorrowfully. He wondered if his mother, who usually knew almost everything had perhaps made a mistake. The wind was coming down the hill as the little boy climbed up. As they met, the wind turned about and went along, singing beside the little boy. It whistled in his ear, and pushed him and dropped a pretty leaf into his hand. “I wonder,” thought the little boy, after they had gone along together for awhile, “if the wind could help me find a little red house with no doors and no windows a star inside.”
The wind cannot speak in our words, but it went singing ahead of the little boy until it came to an orchard. There it climbed up in the apple tree and shook the branches. When the little boy climbed up, there at his feet lay a great rosy apple. The little boy picked the apple. It was as much as his two hands could hold. It was red as the sun had been able to paint it, and the thick brown stem stood up as straight as a chimney, and it had no doors and no windows. Was there a star inside?
The little boy called to the wind, “Thank you,” and the wind whistled back, “You’re welcome.” Then the little boy gave the apple to his mother. His mother took a knife (AT THIS POINT , START CUTTING AN APPLE CROSSWISE) and cut the apple through the center. Oh, how wonderful! There inside the apple, lay a star holding brown seeds.
“It is too wonderful to eat without looking at the star, isn’t it?” the little boy said to his mother. “Yes indeed,” answered his mother.
Do you know the apple man, the apple man,
the apple man, the apple man?
Do you know the apple man?
He planted apple seeds.
He wore a pot upon his head,
upon his head, upon his head.
He wore a pot upon his head.
His name was Johnny Appleseed.
John Chapman was his real name,
his real name, his real name.
John Chapman was his real name.
But, we call him Johnny Appleseed!
Sing to the tune of “The Muffin Man”
A Slavic “Cinderella” and timeless story from Rafe Martin