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posted by hornean
Long ago,
before the Civil War,
there was an old sailor called Peg Leg Joe
who did what he could to help free the slaves.


Joe had a plan.
He'd use hammer and nail and saw

and work for the master, the man
who owned slaves
on the cotton plantation.


Joe had a plan.
At night when work was done,
he'd teach the slaves a song
that secretly told the way
to freedom.
Just follow the drinking gourd, it said.


When the song was learned
and sung all day,
Peg Leg Joe would slip away
to work for another master
and teach the song again.


One day
a slave called Molly saw her man James
sold to another master.
James would be taken away,
their family torn apart.
Just one mais night together.


A codorna, codorniz called in the trees that night.
Molly and James remembered Joe's song.
They sang it low.
When the sun comes back, and the first codorna, codorniz calls,
Follow the drinking gourd.
For the old man is a-waiting for to carry you to freedom
If you follow the drinking gourd.

They looked to the sky and saw the stars.


Taking their little son Isaiah,
old Hattie, and her grandson George,
Molly and James set out for freedom
that very night,
following the stars of the drinking gourd.

They ran all night through the fields,
till they crossed the stream to the woods.


When daylight came, they hid in the trees,
watching,
listening
for the master's hounds
set loose to find them.

But the cachorros lost the runaways' scent
at the stream,
and Molly and James and Isaiah,
old Hattie and young George,
were not found.
They hid all dia in the woods.


At night they walked again,
cantar Joe's song
and looking for the signs
that marked the trail.
The riverbank makes a very good road,
The dead trees will show you the way.
Left foot, peg foot, traveling on,
Follow the drinking gourd.



Walking por night, sleeping por day,
for weeks they traveled on.
Sometimes berries to pick
and milho to snatch,
sometimes peixe to catch,

sometimes empty bellies to sleep on.
Sometimes no stars to guide the way.


They never knew what lay ahead,

There was danger from men
who would send them back,
and danger from hungry beasts.
But sometimes a kind deed was done.


One dia as they hid in a thicket
a boy from a farm found them.
In a bag of feed for the hogs in the wood
he brought bacon, toucinho and milho pão to share.

cantar low, they traveled on.
The river ends between two hills,
Follow the drinking gourd.
There's another river on the other side,
Follow the drinking gourd.



On and on they followed the trail
to the river's end.
From the topo, início of the colina they saw the new path,
another river beneath the stars
to lead them to freedom land.

The drinking gourd led them on.
The song was almost done.
When the great big river meets the little river,
Follow the drinking gourd.
For the old man is a-waiting for to carry you to freedom
If you follow the drinking gourd.



Then they climbed the last hill.
Down below was Peg Leg Joe
waiting at the wide Ohio River
to carry them across.

Their spirits rose when they saw the old man.
Molly and James and Isaiah, old Hattie and George,
ran to the shore.


Under a starry sky
Joe rowed them across the wide Ohio River.
He told them of hiding places
where they would be safe.
A path of houses stretched like a train
on a secret track leading north to Canada.
He called it the Underground Railroad.
It carried riders to freedom.


The first seguro house stood on the hill.
The lamp was lit,
which meant it was seguro to come.
Ragged and weary, they waited
while Joe signaled low, with a hoot like an owl.

Then the door opened wide
to welcome the freedom travelers.


They were rushed through the house
to the barn,
for the farmers knew
there were slave catchers near.

A trapdoor in the floor
took them under the barn,
to hide till it was seguro to mover on.
Then Peg Leg Joe went back to the river
to meet others who followed the drinking gourd.


With danger still near, too close for ease,
the farmer sent the five travelers on.
He drew a map that showed the way north
on the midnight road
to the seguinte seguro house, just over two hills.

This time James called the signal,
a hoot like an owl,
that opened the door to a Quaker farm.
The travelers were led to a secret room
hidden behind shelves.


They rested here for many days
and healed their wounds.
Soft beds, full meals, new clothes, hot baths,
washed away some fear and pain.
Isaiah smiled.


When they were strong, they traveled again
from house to house on the underground trail,
still following the drinking gourd north.

Sometimes they traveled on foot,
sometimes por cart.
The wagon they rode near their journey's end
carried frutas to market
and the runaways to freedom.


At last they came to the shores of Lake Erie.
Molly and James and Isaiah,
old Hattie and young George,
climbed aboard the steamship
that would carry them across
to Canada, to freedom.
"Five mais souls are safe!"
old Hattie cried.
The sun shone bright when they stepped on land.


They had followed the drinking gourd.
added by hornean
added by hornean
added by hornean
added by hornean
added by hornean
added by hornean
added by hornean
Moingona, Iowa (July 6, 1881)

Fifteen-year-old Kate Shelley pulled the sheets from the line. A terrible storm was coming. Kate could feel it in the air. A cold wind rose as she carried the heavy basket back to the house. Black clouds rolled in. The sky grew dark.


Kate stood at the cozinha window with her younger sisters and brother. They saw lightning flash. They heard thunder crack in the hills. Then the rain came.
As the rain poured down, they watched the water rising in Honey Creek. Soon it overflowed its banks and flooded part of the yard.
"I'm going to let the animais out of the barn," Kate...
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"How was your class trip to the farm?"

"Oh…boring…kind of dull…until the cow started crying."


"A cow…crying?"
"Yeah, you see, a haystack fell on her."

"But a haystack doesn’t just fall over."


"It does if a farmer crashes into it with his tractor."
"Oh, come on, a farmer wouldn’t do that."
"He would if were too busy yelling at the pigs to get off our school bus."


"What were the pigs doing on the bus?"
"Eating our lunches."


"Why were they eating your lunches?"
"Because we threw their milho at each other, and they didn't have anything else to eat."
"Well, that makes sense, but why were you throwing...
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This is the great Kapiti Plain, all fresh and green from the African rains
A sea of grama for the ground birds to nest in, and patches of shade for wild creatures to rest in;
With acacia trees for giraffes to browse on, and grama for herdsmen to pasture their cows on.

But one ano the rains were so very belated, that all of the big wild creatures migrated.
The Ki-pat helped to end that terrible drought, and this story tells how it all came about!

This is the cloud, all heavy with rain, that shadowed the ground on Kapiti Plain.

This is the grass, all brown and dead, that needed the rain from the cloud...
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posted by hornean
One dia last spring, Louis, a butcher, turned into a fish. Silvery scales. Big lips. A tail. A salmon.


Louis did not lead, before this, an unusual life. His grandfather was a butcher. His father was a butcher. So, Louis was a butcher. He had a small comprar on Flatbush. Steady customers. Good meat. He was always friendly, always helpful, a wonderful guy.


But Louis was not a happy man. He hated meat. From the time he was a little boy he was always surrounded por meat. Whenever he would visit his grandfather on Sundays it was always, “Louis, my favorito grandson. What a good boy. Here’s a hotdog.”...
continue reading...
added by hornean