Villages of France

France! My heart went out to the beautiful old churches around which the villages of France had clustered for more than ten centuries, and I wondered what a country would be like without them. Julien Green

The Village on the Hillside

For a minute Dick did not answer as he sat beside his family, thinking only how pleasant it was to be comfortable and quiet in the sun, looking down at the village with its streets going downhill below them, at the clustering roofs of the houses – the wide, comfortable chimneys smoking a little in……

The Acadian Village (excerpt from Evangeline)

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW (This poem is long and difficult and may be learned as a class, each child memorizing a few lines.) In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas, Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pré Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward, Giving……

Mountain Music

The Alps! They were glittering with ice. They rise up steep – stark white and silver – against the blue sky, like a cathedral organ ready to burst into a hymn to God. As we passed through a tiny mountain village, the chimes were ringing out the hour. Just the notes you would expect. They……

Native Village

That afternoon Tom stood on the top of a hill, looking down at his native village. Never, perhaps, has there been such a strangely adorable place as Clovelly. It is made of one narrow, cobbled street, steep as a mountain side, and it leads down to a tiny harbor. Funny, crooked houses lean together, their……

The Beauty of the Land

The room was white with moonlight. I slid out of bed and walked to the big window facing the mountains and stood there spellbound. I do not think in all my life I had ever seen anything so breathtakingly beautiful as the countryside I gazed upon. The mountains and hills were like black silhouettes against……

Village Life

The heavenly beauty of the spring day sent Sally’s mercurial spirits soaring upwards, and she sang softly as she walked along the street, swinging her basket. The beautiful old houses about her seemed lovely as the houses in a fairytale, their windows and brass knockers winking in the sun, their roofs and weather-worn stones revealing……

Coming Home

Jared took three days for his journey into New Hampshire, three days over the winding roads. The clean fields, lying fallow for next spring’s planting, offered him the satisfaction of familiarity; but when the road began to climb and the fields gave place to woodlands and the bare trees to the deep green of the……

The Strength of a Village

Many a time I have seen a tiny shepherd, while watching his flock and playing a homemade reed flute, execute the most intricate and graceful steps on the green of hillside or plain. Orchards and vegetable gardens formed a background of every village home. Bees were cultivated lovingly and knowingly. For honey was another staple……

The Barefoot Boy (excerpt)

BY JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan! With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes; With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace; From my heart I give thee joy,—……