"After all," he used to say, "that sixpence made my fortune. And it
all came about through such a small thing as a handful of rye!"





The Story of Little Boy Blue

The Story of Little Boy Blue

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn.
The sheep 's in the meadow, the cow 's in the corn;
Where 's the little boy that minds the sheep?
He 's under the haystack, fast asleep!

There once lived a poor widow who supported herself and her only son
by gleaning in the fields the stalks of grain that had been missed by
the reapers. Her little cottage was at the foot of a beautiful valley,
upon the edge of the river that wound in and out among the green
hills; and although poor, she was contented with her lot, for her home
was pleasant and her lovely boy was a constant delight to her.

He had big blue eyes, and fair golden curls, and he loved his good
mother very dearly, and was never more pleased than when she allowed
him to help her with her work.

And so the years passed happily away till the boy was eight years old,
but then the widow fell sick, and their little store of money melted
gradually away.