Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland for Children Everywhere PennyPrudence
diddilydeedotsdreamworld PENNY PRUDENCE
The Rainbow Bridge
The
Rainbow Bridge is a place which is often referred to by people whose pets have
died. It is a small story that was written some time
between 1980 and 1992, which has gained wide popularity amongst animal
lovers who have lost a pet, especially in America.
Although
no major religion specifically refers to such a place for pets, the
belief shows similarities with the Bifröst Bridge of Norse Mythology.
The Bifrost Bridge (Also known as "The Rainbow Bridge") is the bridge
that connects Asgard to Earth. It is how gods and other Asgardian
creatures travel between the two worlds. There are many other Myths and Legends about the Bifrost Bridge, but they bear no real comparison with the Childrens Rainbow Bridge for their Pets to travel to the other side.
This is the story I like best
Far away above the trees, where only the rainbow goes, there is a beautiful green meadow. But this is no ordinary meadow, this is a special place where all the creatures of the earth might cross to get to the Rainbow Bridge that leads them to heaven.
It is such a wonderful place that no matter how old ar ill it may have been this side of the meadow, as it crosses the meadow and then crosses the bridge, all is made whole again. Here is the place that the pet can wait until their owner is ready to come and join them once more.
When that day comes, the pet somehow knows that they are coming and they run back over the bridge and wait patiently until there owner arrives and they are reunited, never to be parted again.
I like to think that if the owner was a horrible person and mistreated the animal that , that owner wouldn't be allowed to cross the Bright Green Meadow, for I am sure there is no place over the Rainbow Bridge for the cruel and the unkind.
The Man and the Lion
There
was once a man who refused to obey his king. He was sentence to die.
But before they could kill him, the man escaped and ran into the
forest. He met a lion with a thorn in his paw. The man pulled the thorn
out. As the lion was licking his paw, he said, “I am grateful to you. I
will never forget what you have done. You will always be my friend.”
So
the man told the lion goodbye and left. It was not long before the man
was captured by the king’ soldiers. They brought him back and he was
sentenced to died in the arena. When the lion was released, the man
recognized the lion. It was the very same lion that he had helped. He
bravely reminded the lion of his promise and asked the lion not to eat
him because they were friends.
The lion was hungry. He jumped upon the man and ate him.
Beware of friends who make false statements.
Note:
If you don’t like this ending, there are stories where the lion doesn’t
eat the man because the lion was grateful. The moral would then be
something like: When you help other people, you sometimes help yourself.
The Frog and the Ox An
ox came down to the pond to drink. As he walked into the water he
smashed a young frog into the mud. When the frogs returned home, the
old mother frog soon missed the little frog. She wanted to know where
the little frog was. “Oh mother,” said the little frogs, “a big monster
stepped on little brother with one of his big feet.”
“How big?” said the mother frog. “Was he as big as this?” And she puffed herself up.
“Oh, much bigger!” they cried.
The frog puffed up even bigger.
“No, he was bigger than that!” they cried.
“He
couldn’t possibly have been bigger than this,” she said. And she kept
puffing herself up bigger and bigger and bigger until, all at once, she
burst.
Do not attempt the impossible.
The Fox and the Stork
One
day a fox was feeling good. He decided to play a trick on the stork.
The fox thought the stork looked funny and he was always laughing at
the stork.
“Please come over to my house for supper,” the fox
told the stork. The stork gladly accepted. He wanted to be friends with
the fox. He made sure he arrived at fox’s house on time. He was hungry.
The
fox served soup for supper. It was set out in a very shallow dish and
all the stork could do was dip in the end of his beak. He did not taste
a single drop of soup. Fox happily lapped up the soup with a sly smile
on his face. The stork pretended to enjoy his soup.
Although the
stork was very angry at the fox’s trick, he was also even-tempered and
not one to throw temper tantrums. However, not long after this, the
Stork invited the fox to dinner. The fox arrived promptly. The stork
was serving a delicious smelling fish dinner. But it was served in a
tall jar with a very narrow neck. The stork could easily get at the
food with his long bill, but the fox could only sniff at the delicious
dinner and lick the outside of the jar.
Do not play tricks on your friends unless you can stand the same treatment yourself.
Bill was lying in the hay field one day, and the hedgehog sat besides him. They were talking about the seasons,and saying what they liked about each one. "Spring," said the hedgehog, "is like spears. All the bulbs push sharp pointed leaves through the ground, till they look like little armies of spearmen." "Summer," began Bill. . . . . . "What do you mean by Summer?" said the hedgehog. "June's quite different from Juy, and August to either." "June," said Bill slowly, "June's got so many things, roses and strawberries, you don't know which way to turn. It's the nights I like, when there's a glow in the sky nearly all the time." At this time a peal of laughter came from a tree near them. "That's the Yaffle," said the hedgehog. "He's always laughing. That bird has got a funny sense of humour, he has no idea when and where to laugh. Go away," he called, and the Yaffle flew away still laughing heartily. "July," said the hedgehog, "Is the month I laike best. It's peaceful, the clouds look like white fishes, and lie quietly in the sky. The flowers look like altar candles, or tall tapers, mulliens, delphiniums and such things. In August. . . ." "Yes," said Bill, "In August I like 'the day long murmuring wood pigeon.' " "Who called them that?" said the hedgehog. "My father says that Lamb called them that in an essay." "I never knew a lamb that wrote," said the hedgehog scornfully. "I always think that lambs have so little sense." "Bill knew for a fact that Charles Lamb had written this essay, and that the hedgehog didn't know what it was talking about - but he said nothing; which was very nice of Bill, as the hedgehog was apt to be very cocky about his opinions. "August," the hedgehog began again, "is the month when everything is silent, the birds hardly sing, but the bees hum and the flowers smell extra good." "Yes," said Bill "I love the smell of the phloxes and marigolds." "September's nice, too, went on the hedgehog, "with the sounds of reaping and the corn in the fields and the fresh frosty mornings. And so is October. The rest I know nothing about." "Nothing about?" repeated Bill astonished. "No, nothing, silly" said the hedgehog sharpishly, and Bill remembered that of course hedgehogs rolled themselves up under heaps of leaves all the winter. Once on a winter's day he had heard a funny snoring noise, and, going up to where it came from, found a tiny hedgehog rolled up fast asleep. "Let's go to the farmyard," he said to change the subject. They wandered up from the hatfield into the farmyard. The hedgehog was on the look out that no one should notice him. Once he and Bill had met the gardener, and in one second the hedgehog had vanished into a tuft of grass. They saw the pigs who looked like pink and black lollipops on legs, grunting and poking about. A pair of guinea fowls followed the pigs, picking insects off the pigs legs. The guinea fowl kept up a sort of sad piping noise. So did some baby turkeys who walked about in a little flock together chaperoned by a hen. They kept up their sad little tune without stopping, and seemed in terror of letting the hen out of their sight for one minute. The hedgehog yawned, and said, "Let's go and see Maria Missel-Thrush, she is always so cheerful." They went along to the yew tree. Maria Missel-thrush was hopping about singing to herself. When they came up she cried, "So glad to see you. I was just going to send you an invitation. I'm just serving them out now." She picked up a yew leaf in her beak with six spikes on it and a yew berry growing in the middle. "That means six o'clock and a yew berry party," said the hedgehog in a whisper to Bill. Bill walked away a few steps and said in a low voice, "But, Hedgehog, Nannie always says that yew berries are poisonous - and on no account put one in your mouth." The hedgehog blinked his bright eyes. "Well you must be careful. Maria Missel-Thrush, as I said before, is so terribly touchy." He wrinkled his nose for a minute or two, while Bill twisted the leaf in his hands so hard that the yew berry fell on the grass. Bill felt very unhappy; he did so much want to go to the party. "I'll tell you what," said the hedgehog suddenly. "Go to the village shop and ask Mrs Fatkin if she has got any more of those tiny round raspberry drops. They look exactly like yew berries if one doesn't peer too close, and you must somehow manage to throw away the real yew berries, and pop a raspberry drop in your mouth whenever Maria looks your way." Bill ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the village, paying no attention to the little birds in the hedges, who called out to each other, "What ever is that child running so fast for?" He ran up the stone flagged path, past the apple tree bowed down with apples, up to the door on which was written, "Mrs. Thomas Fatkin. Licensed to Sell, Ale and Tobacco." Bill dashed in and laid his birthday sixpence on the counter. "Sixpence worth of raspberry drops, please," he panted. "Well, I declare," said Mrs Fatkin, leisurely putting on her spectacles, and beaming at Bill over the counter, "Why you are quite out of breath." Bill wished she would hurry up, so he politely but quickly repeated his request. "I declare I'm not sure if I've got anymore," sh said and with maddening slowness began to rummage among the big sweet bottles. First she looked at the peppermint balls, then she took up and shook every bottle in the shop. At last in a dark corner she spied one almost empty jar. "Well I do declare, there are just a few left," she said. "I shan't let you pay more than a penny for these," she said, and Bill took them off her and ran down the stone path with fivepence of his birthday sixpence in one hand and a bag with eight round raspberry drops in the other. The hedgehog was waiting for Bill behind a rose bush. "Come along," he said, and they walked over the lawn to the yew tree. It was a very old tree with a thick dark red twisted trunk and branches, which were so long that they lay on the ground. It was dark, musty, and mysterious under these branches on ordinary days; but this special afternoon the yew tree was full of birds twittering and jumping about. Maria had laid little heaps of yew berries all round the trunk, and her guests fell upon them without any manners at all, and started gobbling them all up. All except Bill, who managed to spill his yew berries on to a big heap Maria had made near him, and whenever she looked his way Bill put a raspberry drop into his mouth. When he had finished his fourth raspberry drop he felt he never wanted to eat another one again in all his life. "Now let's have some songs," said Maria, cleaning her chest feathers with her beak. "We've put a sentinel outside, he's quite happy. I've given him lots to eat; and if anyone passes we can all fly out in different directions." "Oh, so that's why birds so often fly out of a tree, when one comes round the corner suddenly," thought Bill, but he said nothing. Two blackbirds sang a duet, then two thrushes. Their song reminded Bill of evenings in the garden in spring, when the light was bright in the sky after rain, and the big drops pattered off the bushes, and everything you touched threw out a long trail of scent. Then the starling obliged, with an imitation of the butcher's boy coming whistling up the drive in the morning. Then a dozen sparrows sang a chorus, which sounded like the clashing of tiny bells. The owl, who was sitting half asleep on a branch, opened his eyes. "He may be going to recite," said the hedgehog. All the birds sat very quiet and the owl began - -
"Oh, the dreary endless day, Oh, the thrilling throbbing dark. I get up when squeaks the bat, And go to bed when sings the lark."
Someone giggled, and the owl shut his eyes again, and couldn't be persuaded to say any more. After much pressing the grey squirrel consented to repeat a poem he had learnt from a badger. He sat up, folded his paws, and tucked his tail round him and began. "It is called 'Broughton Spinney,' " he said.
"Under this little wood, so say the wise, An iron foundery hidden lies, Made for their use by the legions of Rome Who in this valley once made their brief home. Sparks flew, iron hissed and the sky caught the glare, Where now the badger makes his deep lair. He mutters and grumbles impatient of mood, Intent upon nothing but shelter and food.
Life is but a wheel turning round So say . . . . .
At this moment the bird sentinel puts his head in and said, The cat's coming," and all the birds began to flutter their wings. "I'll go and send him away," called out Bill, and he ran out. "Go away, Martin," he said crossly, and threw a fir cone at the Persian cat's head. It hit Martin on the nose. He hissed at Bill, "I'll get even with you for that," and with one bound he fled into the shrubbery. "All clear!" said Bill, as he crashed through the yew branches, but sad to say the peace and happiness of the party had somehow vanished away, and all the birds began to make excuses, about how long it took them to get home. The party broke up in confusion. Maria took it all very calmly and said, "Better luck next time." "We must look out for those cats," said the hedgehog to Bill as they strolled away. "They've a nasty revengeful streak in them. I think they mean mischief.
This most wonderful story comes from the pen of Ms Susan Tweedsmuir, she wrote quite a few books, this tale it says was in "The Freedom of the Garden," and printed in 1932, I will keep a look out in my searches for another one, maybe "Martin's Revenge." but it might take a while for I have found so little written about this charming lover of Nature.
PRUDENCE PENNYFARTHING Presents
An Australian Rhyme
TheTriantiwontigongolope
C J Dennis
There's a very funny insect that you do not often
spy,
And it isn't quite a spider, and it isn't quite a fly;
It is something like a beetle, and a little like a bee,
But nothing like a wooly grub that climbs upon a tree.
Its name is quite a hard one, but you'll learn it soon, I hope. So try: Tri anti wonti - tri anti wonti gongo lope.
It lives on weeds and wattle-gum, and has a funny face;
Its appetite is hearty, and its manners a disgrace.
When first you come upon it, it will give you quite a scare,
But when you look for it again, you find it isn't there.
And unless you call it softly it will stay away and mope.
So try:
Tri anti wonti - tri anti wonti gongo lope.
It trembles if you tickle it or tread upon its toes;
It is not an early riser, but it has a snubbish nose.
If you snear at it, or scold it, it will scuttle off in shame,
But it purrs and purrs quite proudly if you call it by its name,
And offer it some sandwiches of sealing-wax and soap.
So try: Tri anti wonti - Triantiwontigongolope.
But of course you haven't seen it; and I truthfully confess
That I haven't seen it either, and I don't know its address.
For there isn't such an insect, though there really might have
been
If the trees and grass were purple, and the sky was bottle green.
It's just a little joke of mine, which you'll forgive, I hope.
Oh, try!
Tri anti wonti -Triantiwontigongolope.
Wattle Gum: AUSTRALIAN GUM -- This gum
occurs in large globular, transparent tears or masses, which are hard
and of a pale yellow, amber, or brown color. It dissolves completely
in water, producing a mucilage which is very adhesive, and less liable
than other gums to crackle when dry. Tannin from the bark is apt to
be present on this gum. It is the product of several species, among
them acacia pycnantha, acacia decurrens, acacia homalophylla, and acacia
cunningham.
Thanks again to "Just Playing." I have never heard this before.
This Old Man
This old man he played one, He played knick knack on my tum. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone, This old man came rolling home.
This old man he played two, He played knick knack on my shoe. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.
This old man he played three, He played knick knack on my knee. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.
This old man he played four, He played knick knack on my door. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home. This old man he played five, He played knick knack on my hive. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.
This old man he played six, He played knick knack on my sticks. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home. This old man he played seven, He played knick knack down in Devon. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.
This old man he played eight, He played knick knack on my front gate. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.
This old man he played nine, He played knick knack on my spine. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.
This old man he played ten, Then he started all over again. With a knick knack paddy whack give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.
....4...
1.....
Briar Rose also known as The Sleeping Beauty by The Brother's Grimme
A long time ago there were a king and queen who said every day, ah, if
only we had a child, but they never had one. But it happened that once
when the queen was bathing, a frog crept out of the water on to the
land, and said to her, your wish shall be fulfilled, before a year has
gone by, you shall have a daughter.
What the frog had said came true, and the queen had a little girl who
was so pretty that the king could not contain himself for joy, and
ordered a great feast. He invited not only his kindred, friends and
acquaintances, but also the wise women, in order that they might be
kind and well-disposed towards the child. There were thirteen of them
in his kingdom, but, as he had only twelve golden plates for them to
eat out of, one of them had to be left at home.
The feast was held with all manner of splendor and when it came to an
end the wise women bestowed their magic gifts upon the baby - one gave
virtue, another beauty, a third riches, and so on with everything in
the world that one can wish for.
When eleven of them had made their promises, suddenly the thirteenth
came in. She wished to avenge herself for not having been invited, and
without greeting, or even looking at anyone, she cried with a loud
voice, the king's daughter shall in her fifteenth year prick herself
with a spindle, and fall down dead. And, without saying a word more,
she turned round and left the room.
They were all shocked, but the twelfth, whose good wish still remained
unspoken, came forward, and as she could not undo the evil sentence,
but only soften it, she said, it shall not be death, but a deep sleep
of a hundred years, into which the princess shall fall.
The king, who would fain keep his dear child from the misfortune, gave
orders that every spindle in the whole kingdom should be burnt.
Meanwhile the gifts of the wise women were plenteously fulfilled on the
young girl, for she was so beautiful, modest, good-natured, and wise,
that everyone who saw her was bound to love her.
It happened that on the very day when she was fifteen years old, the
king and queen were not at home, and the maiden was left in the palace
quite alone. So she went round into all sorts of places, looked into
rooms and bed-chambers just as she liked, and at last came to an old
tower. She climbed up the narrow winding-staircase, and reached a
little door. A rusty key was in the lock, and when she turned it the
door sprang open, and there in a little room sat an old woman with a
spindle, busily spinning her flax.
Good day, old mother, said the king's daughter, what are you doing
there. I am spinning, said the old woman, and nodded her head. What
sort of thing is that, that rattles round so merrily, said the girl,
and she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But scarcely had she
touched the spindle when the magic decree was fulfilled, and she
pricked her finger with it.
And, in the very moment when she felt the prick, she fell down upon the
bed that stood there, and lay in a deep sleep. And this sleep extended
over the whole palace, the king and queen who had just come home, and
had entered the great hall, began to go to sleep, and the whole of the
court with them. The horses, too, went to sleep in the stable, the dogs
in the yard, the pigeons upon the roof, the flies on the wall, even the
fire that was flaming on the hearth became quiet and slept, the roast
meat left off frizzling, and the cook, who was just going to pull the
hair of the scullery boy, because he had forgotten something, let him
go, and went to sleep. And the wind fell, and on the trees before the
castle not a leaf moved again.
But round about the castle there began to grow a hedge of thorns, which
every year became higher, and at last grew close up round the castle
and all over it, so that there was nothing of it to be seen, not even
the flag upon the
roof. But the story of the beautiful sleeping briar-rose, for so the
princess was named, went about the country, so that from time to time
kings' sons came and tried to get through the thorny hedge into the
castle.
But they found it impossible, for the thorns held fast together, as if
they had hands, and the youths were caught in them, could not get loose
again, and died a miserable death.
After long, long years a king's son came again to that country, and
heard an old man talking about the thorn-hedge, and that a castle was
said to stand behind it in which a wonderfully beautiful princess,
named briar-rose, had been asleep for a hundred years, and that the
king and queen and the whole court were asleep likewise. He had heard,
too, from his grandfather, that many kings, sons had already come, and
had tried to get through the thorny hedge, but they had remained
sticking fast in it, and had died a pitiful death.
Then the youth said, I am not afraid, I will go and see the beautiful
briar-rose. The good old man might dissuade him as he would, he did not
listen to his words.
But by this time the hundred years had just passed, and the day had
come when briar-rose was to awake again. When the king's son came near
to the thorn-hedge, it was nothing but large and beautiful flowers,
which parted from each other of their own accord, and let him pass
unhurt, then they closed again behind him like a hedge. In the castle
yard he saw the horses and the spotted hounds lying asleep, on the roof
sat the pigeons with their heads under their wings. And when he entered
the house, the flies were asleep upon the wall, the cook in the kitchen
was still holding out his hand to seize the boy, and the maid was
sitting by the black hen which she was going to pluck.
He went on farther, and in the great hall he saw the whole of the court
lying asleep, and up by the throne lay the king and queen.
Then he went on still farther, and all was so quiet that a breath could
be heard, and at last he came to the tower, and opened the door into
the little room where briar-rose was sleeping.
There she lay, so beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away, and
he stooped down and gave her a kiss. But as soon as he kissed her,
briar-rose opened her eyes and awoke, and looked at him quite sweetly.
Then they went down together, and the king awoke, and the queen, and
the whole court, and looked at each other in great astonishment. And
the horses in the courtyard stood up and shook themselves, the hounds
jumped up and wagged their tails, the pigeons upon the roof pulled out
their heads from under their wings, looked round, and flew into the
open country, the flies on the wall crept again, the fire in the
kitchen burned up and flickered and cooked the meat, the joint began to
turn and sizzle again, and the cook gave the boy such a box on the ear
that he screamed, and the maid finished plucking the fowl.
And then the marriage of the king's son with briar-rose was celebrated
with all splendor, and they lived contented to the end of their days.
PRUDENCE PENNYFARTHING Little Penny Prudence went whistling down the lane, And every song she whistled, it never was the same. She whistled "Old Mac Donald," She whistled "Old King Cole," But when it came to singing, she was never very bold.
Little Penny Prudence was whistling in the town, She whistled in the Shopping Mall, they paid her half a crown. She whistled "Boys come out to Play," She whistled " Loop- ipty Loo," But when it came to dancing, she just didn't have a clue.
Little Penny Prudence went whistling down the lane Until one day, her teeth fell out, and she never did again. She tried and she tried and tried once more, but her trying it was all in vain So she learn't to dance and learn't to sing, and she never whistled AGAIN.
10 greenbottles
sitting on a wall, 10 green bottles sitting
on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall 9 green bottles sitting
on a wall, 9 green bottles sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall 8 green bottles sitting
on a wall, 8 green bottles sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall 7 green bottles sitting
on a wall, 7 green bottles sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall 6 green bottles sitting
on a wall, 6 green bottles sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall 5 green bottles sitting
on a wall, 5 green bottles sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall 4 green bottles sitting
on a wall, 4 green bottles sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall 3 green bottles sitting
on a wall, 3 green bottles sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall 2 green bottles sitting
on a wall, 2 green bottles sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...
...sitting on the wall
1 green bottle sitting
on a wall, 1 green bottle sitting on a wall And if one green bottle should accidently
fall There will be ...NO
green bottles...sitting on the wall
DAISY AND THE DREAM-WEAVER
It was such a beautiful morning Daisy decided to go for a walk in the woods. She had not gone far when she came upon her very favourite tree, it was the tallest in the woods. Unfortunately Daisy was only little and the tree was very tall, but it never stopped her dreaming about climbing to the very top day after day.Daisy however contented herself with sitting on one of the very low branches and lying there, dreaming of what it must look like way up high.
Daisy jumped up onto her branch and settled down, she had only just
closed her eyes when there was a loud whirring sound; not unlike that
of a a helicopter, and out of the tree fell a little man. He was wearing a pair of purple trousers and a turquoise blue jacket, and would you believe he was even smaller than Daisy. Hello Daisy," he said as he landed with a wallop on her lap and took out a
grey hat and popped it on his head. "There that's better, wait, hold on
just a moment?" He then pulled out a pair of red cloth boots and put
them on his feet. "Now where were we?" He asked in a croaky little voice. "I believe you were day dreaming again. Do tell me what is it your dreaming about today?" Daisy opened and closed her eyes in amazement. "And hello to you too!" she said nervously. "Firstly do you always travel like that? Secondly how come you know my name?" The little man smiled "Forgive me my
dear but it's my business to know name of everybody who lives in or
around Fingles Wood and your family have been living here for a very
long time." "Why I do believe your Granny called you Daisy because you reminded her of the first flower of a new day... isn't that so?" Daisy smiled and picked up the little man and held him in her hand." "Alright, so you know all about me, but who are you?" Daisy smiled and prodded the little man gently in his tummy. Instantly he began to chuckle, then Daisy started to laugh, already you could tell they were going to be good friends. "Well my dear, my full name is Mr Donald O'Dermot, O'Callaghan, but my friends usually call me "Donald the Dream Weaver" or Mr Don, for short, and dream weaving is my work." "A dream weaver, and what on earth is a dream weaver, Mr O'Dermot O'Callaghan?" Daisy said placing the little man on the branch at her side. "Daisy O'Donnal, didn't I tell you my friends call me Mr Don and are we not friends already or are all these smiles false ones?" "Oh
no, no we surely are friends Mr ...em Don, but a dream weaver, what
kind of work is that may I ask?" Daisy smiled a huge smile which made
her whole face shine. "Hm now let me think, a dream weaver. Well it's different of course from a
weaver of dreams, for that would be Shamus MacSweeny from the old
Rainbow Smithy in Fingles Close. No I'm definitely the dream weaver who
listens carefully to peoples dreams, then tries to weave a wee bit of
magic to make them come true." "Oh
I see," Daisy frowned, she didn't really see but she just knew that it
could only be a good thing for her "Mr Don" was definitely a good...
little man... whatever. "So where does that lead us to my dear?" Mr Don asked but didn't wait for an answer. "Your dreaming I suppose." "My
dreaming!" Daisy looked up to the top of the tree. "You mean of being
up there, the top of my tree!" she exclaimed, then she frowned as she
picked Mr Don up by his collar and held him out in front of her. "And how may I ask is one as small as you, going to get one as big as me, up to the top of the tallest tree in the whole of the wood?"
Hm, you leave that to me young Daisy, you're not that big
yourself you know. You just put me back down on the branch and we'll
jolly well see who can do what around here." Daisy placed Mr Donald O'Dermot O'Callaghan back on the branch and began to laugh, her golden curls shining in the sun. "Come on then let's do it?" she teased. "Ok, ok, close your eyes and make ready to fly!" "Whoa, who said anything about flying, I was thinking of climbing. I don't have your wings you know." "Climb to the top of this tree," Donald shook his head and frowned. " I don't think your Mum and Gran would be happy with me if you hurt yourself climbing and I do believe flying would be easier." Mr Don nodded his head as he spoke. "Yes, flying it will have to be, now come on, close your eyes Daisy O'Donnal." Daisy
closed her eyes, first there was a tingle in her fingers, then there
was a trembling in her legs. Then it felt as if she were going up in
lift just like the ones in the stores in Broughton. "You can open your eyes now Daisy." Donald said. Daisy took a deep breath
and slowly opened her eyes. "Oh wow", she gasped. All around her there
were clouds and they seemed to be floating in a sea of blue. She could
see Badger Valley and Fingles Wood. She turned around carefully and she
could see the river and the bridge over the other side of the village.
It was all so wonderful. She turned very carefully towards Donald who somehow seemed to be holding her as if she weighed nothing. "Oh
my goodness, it is all so beautiful, thank you, O thank you, thank
you," she cried over and over again. "Now I shall never have to wonder
what it is like up here any more." She stood there for what seemed
like ages looking this way and that. The church, the school, why she
could even see the swing park over the other side of the village and
the bowling green. "Oh thank you, thank you," she kept repeating. She bent over and gave Mr Don a little kiss on the top of his head. They both began to wobble a little. "Oops be careful, I think we are ready to go down now though Daisy." "Oh
yes I suppose so, thank you again," Daisy said, a little sad but at the
same time flashing another one of her gorgeous smiles at the old
Leprechaun. "I can't thank you enough, You truely have made my dream come true today." She
closed her eyes once more and with a tingle and a tremble and a slight
roll in her tummy, Daisy was back on the ground with Donald standing by her side, she lifted
him up onto the branch and Daisy jumped up besides him. She leant back
against the huge old tree trunk and closed her eyes, her mind full of
all the wonderful sights she had seen in her adventure. She could hear Donald talking away besides her. "Well my dear I must be gone now for I have to be over at the Badger caves before dinner time." Daisy slowly opened her eyes, but to her amazement Mr Donald O'Dermot O'Callaghan was gone, not a trace of him anywhere. She jumped down from the branch and stood there a puzzled look on her pretty face... Had she been dreaming, maybe she had fallen to sleep on the big branch and it was all a dream after all.
She looked about her but there was nothing that told her that Donald O'Dermot O'Callaghan the Dream Weaver of Fingles Wood had ever been there, or took her to the top of the tree...
Slowly Daisy began to make her way home, a smile still on her face for in her
heart she knew it had all been real and that she would meet the little
man, with the croaky little voice again sometime very soon.
Written by Diddily Dee Dot, her first short story of 2008 Enjoy everyone. xxx
NOT QUIITE AS YOU KNOW THEM
Mary had a little lamb, A little bread and a little jam, A little pie and a little cake, Then Mary had a stomach ache.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the King's horses, And all the King's men, Ate scrambled egg for two weeks.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary How does your garden grow? With silver bells, and cockle shells, And one stupid potato!
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick. Jack! Jack! Your pants are on fire!
Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace; Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go; Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living; But the child that is born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
Once I saw a little bird Come hop, hop, hop; So I cried, "Little bird, Will you stop, stop, stop?" And was going to the window To say, "How do you do? But he shook his little tail, And far way he flew.
Little Nancy Etticoat, In a white petticoat, And a red nose; The longer she stands, The shorter she grows
I had a little pony, His name was Dapple-gray, I lent him to a lady, To ride a mile away; She whipped him, she slashed him, She rode him through the mire; I would not lend my pony now For all the lady's hire.
There Were Three Jovial Huntsmen
There were three jovial huntsmen, A hunting they did go, They hunted and they hollered, They gave their horns a blow. Well look'e there now, well look'e there.
Then these three jovial huntsmen,
As I have heard them say, They would go a-hunting
All on a summer's day,
Well look'e there now, well look'e there
All day they went a hunting, but nothing they could spy, but a sparrow in a gum tree, and this they passed on bye. Well look'e there now, well look'e there.
And on their way a hunting, they took a swig of rum. The first one drank, the second one drank, the third one he drank some. Well look'e there now, well look'e there
All the day they went a hunting, And nothing could they find But a ship a-sailing with the wind. and this they passed on bye. Well look'e there now, well look'e there.
The first said it was a ship, The other he said nay; The third said t'was a summer house With the chimney blown away. Well look'e there now, well look'e there.
Now all night they hunted, And nothing could they find But the moon a-gliding in the wind And this they passed on by. Well look'e there now, well look'e there.
One said t'was the moon, The other said nay; The third said it was just a cheese, With half of it cut away. Well look'e there now, well look'e there.
A Seligor/Diddily adaption of a very old Folk Song
Tita Tovenaar Enjoy
JUST CLICK ON ^ THE DVD SLOT NEXT TO START ON VIDEO BOX IF THE "ERROR" SLOGAN SHOWS, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH VIDEO
(found written as a blog on google) Tamas found an orphaned
magpie in his garden begging for food from Tamas' pet turtle. Tamas
adopted the magpie and brought him into the office every day, where he
perched atop various computer screens. Then, one day, a flock of
magpies flew past an the orphan joined them. Here's the inquisitive
fellow. Somewhere, Tamas has tape of the magpie perched atop the
turtle's shell, tapping away, saying to the hiding turtle, "come out to
play!"
One for sorrow. Two for joy. Three for a girl.
Four for a boy. Five for silver. Six for gold.
Seven for a secret never to be told. Eight's a wish.
Nine's a kiss. Ten is a story never to be missed.
Magpies seem to be jacks of all
trades - scavengers, predators and pest-destroyers, their challenging,
almost arrogant attitude has won them few friends. With its noisy
chattering, black-and-white plumage and long tail, there is nothing
else quite like the magpie in the UK. When seen close-up its black
plumage takes on an altogether more colourful hue with a purplish-blue
iridescent sheen to the wing feathers, and a green gloss to the tail.
Non-breeding birds will gather together in flocks.
Where to see them
Found
across England, Wales and N Ireland, but more localised in Scotland,
absent from the Highlands. Seen in a range of habitats from lowland
farmland to upland moors.
Hoorah, hoorah The ants go marching one by one, Hoorah hoorah The ants go marching one by one, The little one stops to suck his thumb, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain,
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
The ants go marching two by two.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching two by two.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching two by two;
The little one stops to tie his shoe, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain,
Zoom, zoom, zoom! The ants go marching three by three.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching three by three.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching three by three;
The little one stops to climb a tree, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain,
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
The ants go marching four by four.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching four by four.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching four by four;
The little one stops to shut the door, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain,
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
The ants go marching five by five.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching five by five.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching five by five;
The little one stops to take a dive, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain,
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
The ants go marching six by six.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching six by six.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching six by six;
The little one stops to pick up sticks, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain,
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
The ants go marching seven by seven.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching seven by seven. Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching seven by seven;
The little one stops to pray to heaven, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain, Zoom, zoom, zoom!
The ants go marching eight by eight.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching eight by eight.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching eight by eight;
The little one stops to rollerskate, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain
Zoom, zoom, zoom! The ants go marching nine by nine.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching nine by nine.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching nine by nine;
The little one stops to check the time, And they all go marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain,
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
The ants go marching ten by ten.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching ten by ten.
Hoorah! Hoorah!
The ants go marching ten by ten;
The little one stops to shout
"T H E E N D!!" But they all kept marching across the floor, under the door, down the drain, into the rain. Zoom, zoom, zoom.
Bill was lying in the hay field one day, and the hedgehog sat besides him. They were talking about the seasons,and saying what they liked about each one.
e."
Charles Lamb had written this essay, and that the hedgehog didn't know what it was talking about - but he said nothing; which was very nice of Bill, as the hedgehog was apt to be very cocky about his opinions.
from, found a tiny hedgehog rolled up fast asleep.
sight for one minute.
"That means six o'clock and a yew berry party," said the hedgehog in a whisper to Bill.
"Well, I declare," said Mrs Fatkin, leisurely putting on her spectacles, and beaming at Bill over the counter, "Why you are quite out of breath."
rds sat very quiet and the owl began - -
"Under this little wood, so say the wise,
PENNY
This old man he played two,
This old man he played six,
Briar Rose
and at last grew close up round the castle
and all over it, so that there was nothing of it to be seen, not even
the flag upon the
There she lay, so beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away, and
he stooped down and gave her a kiss. But as soon as he kissed her,
briar-rose opened her eyes and awoke, and looked at him quite sweetly.
She tried and she tried and tried once more,
DAISY AND THE DREAM-WEAVER
Daisy jumped up onto her branch and settled down, she had only just
closed her eyes when there was a loud whirring sound; not unlike that
of a a helicopter, and out of the tree fell a little man. 
the branch at her side.
weaver of dreams, for that would be Shamus MacSweeny from the old
Rainbow Smithy in Fingles Close. No I'm definitely the dream weaver who
listens carefully to peoples dreams, then tries to weave a wee bit of
magic to make them come true."
and slowly opened her eyes. "Oh wow", she gasped. All around her there
were clouds and they seemed to be floating in a sea of blue. She could
see Badger Valley and Fingles Wood. She turned around carefully and she
could see the river and the bridge over the other side of the village.
It was all so wonderful. She turned very carefully 
towards Donald who somehow seemed to be holding her as if she weighed nothing.
Once I saw a little bird
His name was Dapple-gray,
And on their way a hunting,
The first said it was a ship,
One said t'was the moon,
