He plowed the fields, and he sowed the grain;
Then pitter patter, the gentle rain
Came in a hurry to help it grow;
And the sun shone down with its golden glow,
To ripen the grain for Farmer Brown,
Who, clipety clapety, rode to town
To take the wheat to the miller's mill;
Clickety clack, it never was still
As it ground the wheat into flour white
For the busy baker who sifted it light,
With a shakity shake, to make the bread
That Mother gave to little boy Ted.
Ted sat down on the kitchen doorstep to eat the roll.
"I like a roll of nice fresh bread,
Thank you, Mother," said little boy Ted.
Note.—The little child's "Thank you, Mother," is the beginning of the universal gratitude which will come to him as we gradually lead him to see the interdependence of all life, and the wonderful goodness of God.
[THREE GUESSES]
O