Carroll and Brooks readers - a reader for the fifth grade . ad a waste of red sand andgray mud. The two brothers crept shivering and JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT 243 horror-struck into the kitchen. The water had guttedthe whole first floor; corn, money, almost every mov-able thing had been swept away, and there was leftonly a small white card on the kitchen table. On it, inlarge, breezy, long-legged letters, were engraved the words: SOUTHWEST WIND —John Buskin. incommode: cause inconvenience.—ironically: saying one thingand meaning another.—admonition: warning.—Southwest Wind: why would it prove a misfo
Carroll and Brooks readers - a reader for the fifth grade . ad a waste of red sand andgray mud. The two brothers crept shivering and JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT 243 horror-struck into the kitchen. The water had guttedthe whole first floor; corn, money, almost every mov-able thing had been swept away, and there was leftonly a small white card on the kitchen table. On it, inlarge, breezy, long-legged letters, were engraved the words: SOUTHWEST WIND —John Buskin. incommode: cause inconvenience.—ironically: saying one thingand meaning another.—admonition: warning.—Southwest Wind: why would it prove a misfortune to the brothers not to have the Southwest Windvisit their valley again % JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT Crackle! crack! the ice is melting;From the west the rain falls pelting;Swish and gurgle, splash and spatter!Halloo! good folks, whats the matter?Seems to me the roof is leaking! Jack from down below is speaking. You know little Jack? In the spring he is seen on the swampy edgeOf the hemlock wood, looking out from the shade of the fern-wreathed ledge:. 244 A READER FOR THE FIFTH GRADE But in winter he cuddles close under a thatch of dampleaves. Now the water is trickling fast in through his garreteaves; And he opens his eyes, and up he starts out of his cosybed, Amd he carefully holds, while he climbs aloft, his um-brella over his head. High time for you to be up, Jack, when every growingthing Is washing and sunning itself, Jack, and getting readyfor spring! Little Jack, the country preacher,Thinks, These rustics need a teacher:I shall scold the wild young flowersFor coquetting with the showersThat invade my honest Ill tell them, theres no telling! They call him Jack-in-the-pulpit, he stands up so stiff and so queerOn the edge of the swamp, and waits for the flower-folk to come and hearThe text and the sermon, and all the grave things that he has to say;But the blossoms they laugh and they dance, they are wilder than ever, to-day; VOLCANOES 245 And as nobody s
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