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Stars | Psyche | Being

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The Little Boy by Helen E. Buckley

Once a little boy went to school.

One morning, when the little boy had been in school a while, his teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.”

“Good!” thought the little boy.

He liked to make pictures.

He could make all kinds. Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, trains and boats, and he took out his box of crayons and began to draw.

But the teacher said: “Wait! It is not time to begin!”

And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.”

“Good!” thought the little boy, he liked to make flowers, and he began to make beautiful ones with his pink and orange and blue crayons.

But the teacher said “Wait! And I will show you how.” And it was red with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s. Then he looked at this own flower.

He liked his flower better than the teacher’s. But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over. And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red with a green stem.

On another day, when the little boy had opened the door from the outside all by himself, the teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.”

“Good!” thought the little boy. Snakes and snowmen, elephants and mice, cars, and trucks, and hebegan to pull and pinch his ball of clay.