Fourth Grade Read Aloud Banquet

Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

	Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday	Saturday	Sunday
Week 52	Seasonal Story	Victoria—War from Our Island Story by H. E. Marshall	Seasonal Story	Seasonal Story	Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow from The Struggle for Sea Power by M. B. Synge	The Little Match-Girl from Fairy Tales Too Good To Miss—Across the Lake by Lisa M. Ripperton	Seasonal Story
	Seasonal Story	Seasonal Story	Seasonal Story	Seasonal Story	Seasonal Story	Seasonal Story	And Now We Come to the Last Scene in the Pantomime from The Rose and the Ring by William Makepeace Thackeray Summary from The Rose and the Ring by William Makepeace Thackeray
		Seasonal Poem	The Death of the Old Year by Alfred Lord Tennyson	Seasonal Poem	Seasonal Poem	Seasonal Poem	An Old Christmas Carol, Anonymous
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Week 103

The Aesop for Children by Milo Winter

The Fox and the Pheasants

One moonlight evening as Master Fox was taking his usual stroll in the woods, he saw a number of Pheasants perched quite out of his reach on a limb of a tall old tree. The sly Fox soon found a bright patch of moonlight, where the Pheasants could see him clearly; there he raised himself up on his hind legs, and began a wild dance. First he whirled 'round and 'round like a top, then he hopped up and down, cutting all sorts of strange capers. The Pheasants stared giddily. They hardly dared blink for fear of losing him out of their sight a single instant.

Now the Fox made as if to climb a tree, now he fell over and lay still, playing dead, and the next instant he was hopping on all fours, his back in the air, and his bushy tail shaking so that it seemed to throw out silver sparks in the moonlight.

By this time the poor birds' heads were in a whirl. And when the Fox began his performance all over again, so dazed did they become, that they lost their hold on the limb, and fell down one by one to the Fox.

Too much attention to danger may cause us to fall victims to it.