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Children's Stories — The Buckle My Shoe Picture Book. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.
Tyler Reddick here from 2311 Racing. Another checkered flag for the books. Time to celebrate with Jamba. Jump in at JambaCasino.com. Let's Jamba. No purchase necessary, BTW Group. Boy, we're prohibited by law. CCNC, 21 Plus, sponsored by JambaCasino. When you're ready to slow down, especially before bed, listen to Saul Good Sounds. We create calming audio, ambient soundscapes, and peaceful listening experiences designed to help you relax, unwind, and fall asleep. Search Saul Good Sounds wherever you listen to podcasts that's S-O-L-G-O-D sounds. Saul Good Sounds. Rest well. Preface. Well, I must buckle two and put a good face, briefcase on the matter, as I have to introduce the latest addition to the already considerable family of Korean reprints. Here we have those delightful rig morals, one, two, buckle my shoe, and a gaping wide-mouth
waddling frog. But what? It may be asked, is my mother doing in such company? I shouldly suspect if we knew the truth, that she is really the author of both. It is probable, however, that both legends have been transmitted through a long line of mothers, assisted perhaps by nurses. But I have them direct for my mother, a pleasing romance of domestic incident runs through one, two, buckle my shoe. Well, the waddling frog shows a wretch in sumptuous imagination if a little and consequent except numerically. But if he sets us again with astonishment, his own wide-mouth seems capacious enough to swallow all the marvels by the undersea, which he enumerates. These two are quite early cranes, almost prehistoric. Please notice, however, the up-to-date additions. My mother is mid-Victorian. Just after criminal lines had gone out, but mothers are always in fashion, bless them. And you also, dear children, whether of the old or, the new world who, having chosen your parents wisely,
have become possessors of this book, may your shoes never want buckling. And if by any mischance you should lose one, may good luck always find a spare one for you. And so set you on your feet again, Kensington, Jin 1910. One, two, buckle my shoe. Three, four, open the door. Five, six, pick up sticks. Seven, eight, lay them straight. Nine, ten, a good fat hand. 11, 12, ring the bell. 13, 14, maids are courting. 15, 16, maids are in the kitchen. 17, 18, maids are waiting. 19, 20, my plate is empty. A gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. A gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog, two puddings ends with chugador, or a gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. Three monkeys tied to your log. Two puddings ends with chugador, or a gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. Four puppies with our dog ball,
ideally for their breakfast call. Three monkeys tied to your log. Two puddings ends with chugador, or a gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. Five beetles against the wall. Close to your old woman's apple stall. Four puppies with our dog ball, ideally for their breakfast call. Three monkeys tied to your log. Two puddings ends with chugador, or a gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. Six joiners and joiners all, working with their tools and all. Five beetles against the wall. Close to your old woman's apple stall. Four puppies with our dog ball, ideally for their breakfast call. Three monkeys tied to your log. Two puddings ends with chugador, or a gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. Seven lobsters in a dash, as fresh as any heart could wish. Six joiners and joiners all, working with their tools and all. Five beetles against the wall.
Close to an old woman's apple stall. Four puppies with our dog ball, ideally for their breakfast call. Three monkeys tied to your log. Three puddings ends with chugador, or a gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. Eight peacocks in the air. I wonder how they all got there. You don't know, and I don't care. Seven lobsters in a dash, as fresh as any heart could wish. Six joiners and joiners all, working with their tools and all. Five beetles against the wall. Close to an old woman's apple stall. Four puppies with our dog ball, ideally for their breakfast call. Three monkeys tied to your log. Two puddings ends with chugador, or a gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. Nine sheep sailing on the main. Some bound for France and some for Spain. I wish them all safe back again. Eight peacocks in the air. I wonder how they all got there. You don't know, and I don't care.
Seven lobsters in a dash, as fresh as any heart could wish. Six joiners and joiners all, working with their tools and all. Five beetles against the wall. Close to an old woman's apple stall. Four puppies with our dog ball, ideally for their breakfast call. Three monkeys tied to your log. Two puddings ends with chugador, or a gepping wide-mouthed, waddling frog. My mother, he fed me from her gentle breast, and hushed me in her arms to rest, and on my cheek sweet kisses pressed. My mother, once leaped for sick, my open eye, who was at snug, sweet hushed by, and rocked me that I should not cry. My mother, who sat and watched my infant head, when slipping in my cradle bed, and tears of sweet affection said, my mother. When pain and sickness made me cry, who gazed upon my heavy eye, and wept for fear that I should die, my mother. Who dressed my doll in close okay,
and taught me pretty high to play, and minded all I had to say. My mother, who taught my infant lips to pray, and loved God's holy book and day, and walked in wisdom's pleasant way, my mother, and can I ever cease to be affectionate and kind to me, who was so very kind to me, my mother. Ah, no, I thought I cannot bear, and if God pleased my life to spare, I hope I shall reward thy care, my mother. He ran to help me when I failed, and went some pretty storytell, or kissed the place to make it well. My mother, when thy art feeble old and gray, my healthy arm shall be thy stay, and I will see thy pants away, my mother. And when I see the hang thy head, she'll be my turn to wash thy bed, and tears of sweet affection said, my mother. For God who loves above the skies, would look with vengeance in his eyes, if I should ever dare despise my mother. End of the buckle, my shoe picture book, by Walter Crane. Hello, Reddick here from 2311 Racing.
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