Mr. Rabbit at Home
Category： Author：Joel Chandler Harris 乔尔·钱德勒·哈里斯
A sequel to Little Mr. Thimblefinger and his Queer Country
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Category： Author：Joel Chandler Harris 乔尔·钱德勒·哈里斯
A sequel to Little Mr. Thimblefinger and his Queer Country
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Category： Author：John Breck
You remember all the funny things Nibble heard about Man from the guests who came to his Storm Party...
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Category： Author：Margery Williams
HERE was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly betwee...
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Category： Author：J. M. Barrie
One still Saturday afternoon some years ago a child pulled herself through a small window into a kitchen in the kirk-wynd of Thrums. She came from the old graveyard, whose only outlet, when the parish church gate is locked, is the windows of the wynd houses that hoop it round.
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Category： Author：David Cory
Never stop upon your way,Just to fool around and play.Learn to quickly go to school;Never, never break this rule.
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Category： Author：novel
Peter Rabbit had lost his appetite. Now when Peter Rabbit loses his appetite, something is very wrong indeed with him. Peter has boasted that he can eat any time and all the time. In fact, the two things that Peter thinks most about are his stomach and satisfying his curiosity, and nearly all of the scrapes that Peter has gotten ...
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Category： Author：novel
Lad stood looking out of the dormer window in a scantily furnished attic in the high-pitched roof of a house in Holborn, in September 1664. Numbers of persons were traversing the street below, many of them going out through the bars, fifty yards away, into the fields beyond, where some sports were being held that morning, while c...
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Category： Author：novel
S URELY it was no longer ago than yesterday. I had left the scythe lying at the edge of the long grass, and gone up through the rows of nodding Indian corn to the house, seeking a draught of cool water from the spring. It was hot in the July sunshine; the thick forest on every side intercepted the breeze, and I had been at work f...
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Category： Author：novel
There used to be a little girl who does not come here any more. She is not dead, for when certain things happen, she stirs slightly where she is, perhaps deep within the air. When the sun falls in a particular way, when graham griddle cakes are baking, when the sky laughs sudden blue after a storm, or the town clock points in its...
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Category： Author：novel
It was three in the afternoon and quitting time at Utopian Appliances, Inc. Bertram J. Bernard, the firm's stocky, thick-jawed president, waited discreetly at his desk for a few minutes, then closed the file he had been studying, bid his secretary a pleasant evening, and strode calmly out of the office.
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