she receives three fat rats, on the fourth four burping goats, on the fifth... and the days and presents just keep coming! Emily Brenner#146;s clever classroom take on the classic Twelve Days of Christmas song and Bruce Whatley#146;s hilarious illustrations will have kids and teachers caroling all year long! Emily Brenner is the author of several children#146;s books. She lives in New York with her husband and children. Bruce Whatley is the illustrator of numerous picture books, including all things bright and beautiful by Cecil Frances Alexander, here comes santa claus by Gene Autry and Oakley Haldeman, and the night before christmas by Clement C. Moore. He is both the author and illustrator of wait! no paint!, and he collaborated with his wife, Rosie Smith, on detective donut and the wild goose chase and captain pajamas. Mr. Whatley lives with his family on a farm in Australia.  (less)

Christmas,” The Twelve Days of Kindergarten is a welcoming introduction to school. Upbeat text celebrates the new adventure of school, and hilariously detailed illustrations showcase kindergarteners that every child, teacher, and parent will recognize with glee. Youngsters will enjoy singing along as the teacher's gifts accumulate, building to the twelfth day—the day the new students settle in and discover they love school! As an added bonus, The Twelve Days of Kindergarten teaches both cardinal (one, two, three) and ordinal (first, second, third) numbers. Age range: 5-8. Hardcover.  (less)

country as farmers and craftspeople, students, teachers, and laborers, and today they count among their descendants Presidents of the United States, sports stars, entertainers, scientists, writers, and businessmen. In fact, German American influences are so deeply embedded in the culture of the United States that many people are unaware of their origins. Hamburgers and hotdogs, American kindergarten (children's garden in German), most of the customs we associate with Christmas, and even the Easter bunny and his eggs all spring from the German American community.bremThe German American Family Album/emtraces the growth of that community from the first German to reach the New World in the year 1000 (his name was Tyrker and he was a companion of the Scandinavian seafarer Leif Eriksson) to the 7 million German Americans in this country today. In their own words--from diary entries, letters, interviews, and personal reflections--and with photographs and clippings culled from family archives and the press of the day, we learn of their life in the old country, of the decision to leave home, the often wretched trip to America, and the new life they found once they got here. Their three-centuries-long history of achievement in the United States is a moving and inspirational story. To see it and hear it through the eyes of the immigrant is an experience that makes history personal and immediate.brbremAbout the Editors:/embrstrongDorothy and Thomas Hoobler/stronghave published more than 50 books for children and have been honored by the Library of Congress, the New York Public Library, the National Council for the Social Studies, and the Society for Schoo@ £×=p¤ÿ¾Úx  (less)

fair in elementary school," she says. "On the day of the fair, she and her partner saw the other glitzy, entertaining, and showy projects and decided the best hope for their very scientific project was third place. When they didn't get called for the third place award, they were so disappointed they tuned out and didn't even hear their names called as the grand-prize winners."brbrSusanna Natti is the illustrator of all the Beany books. Of BEANY AND THE MEANY, she says, "I can remember laboring with great concentration over a hand-drawn map for a class assignment, but alas, my map looked nothing like the map in the atlas. I completely relate to Beany's high expectations for herself and to her fears that her science project won't pass muster. I don't remember how my teacher eventually graded my map, but I sure do remember making it."I was excited that a new girl would be in our class. I hoped she'd have short hair like me that maybe would stick out, like mine does when I sleep funny. I hoped she’d have freckles. I have lots of freckles—twenty-three to be exact. If Stacy had freckles, I wouldn’t be the only one mean Kevin Gates calls dalmatian.brbrJust then, Mr. Shanner, the principal, walked in with Stacy and introduced her. Stacy didn't look scared, the way I would if I was walking into a new classroom. She smiled and said hi to the class. She didn't have freckles. She had long brown hair in a ponytail that went way down her back. And she had lots of friendship bracelets tied around one wrist. Once Carol Ann and I made friendship bracelets for each other, but mine fell off in one day. I guess I didn't tie it right. When mine fell of?Р (less)

Good for one leisurely picnic under a shady tree. The second part is made up of Tokens of Affection, including Good for a romantic home-cooked meal by candlelight. And the last part, Tokens of Addiction include Good. for interrupting me no matter what I am doing and having your way with me.  (less)

Sundays and holy days of the liturgical year. The three cycles of Ordinary Time are contained in separate books: * Cycle A, for the year 2002 and every third year * Cycle B, for the year 2000 and every third year * Cycle C, for the year 2001 and every third year The lectionary-based reflections for Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter for the entire three-year cycle are contained in a book of their own. These books are a treasure for individual and family prayers and ideal for liturgy planning. Three sets of prayer reflection questions are offered for each Sunday or holy day: one for use with adults, one for teens, and one for small children. The author also suggests an object to help focus each set of reflections. Each reflection contains a black-and-white icon expressing the reading. An index of themes is included in each book.  (less)

that it was easier to give in to Nancy and Rob than argue.It was well past time for her to socialize again, they claimed. Long past time for her to grieve. Only no one had told her how she was supposed to grow another heart. No one had told her all the time she'd been granted to mourn her husband was two short years.Her heart had been rubbed raw in the time it had taken leukemia to claim her young husband's life. Since Michael's death the days had blended together, one twenty-four-hour period dragging into the next until the weeks and months had blurred together in a thick fog of disenchantment.Linette had gotten on with her life, the way everyone said she should. She went to work every day. She ate. Slept. She managed to do all that was required of her ...  (less)

B O S T O N LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 1855. Entered according to tlle Act of Congress, in the year one thousand ei81it hundred and thirty-six, by JARED SPARKS in , the Clerks Ofice of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. PART THIRD CONTAININCI CORRESPONDENCE FROM THE TIME OF RESIGNING HIS COMMISSION AS COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF THE ARMY, TO THAT OF HIS INAUGURATION AS PRESIDENT. PRIVA TE L ETTERS AFTER THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. r TO GOVERNOR CLINTON. Mount Vernqn, 28 December, 1783. MY DEAR SIR, After as prosperous a journey as could be expected at this late season of the year, I arrived at my seat the day before Christmas, having previously divested myself of my official character. I am now a private citi- zen on the banks of the btomac, where I should be happy to see you, if your public business would ever perait, and where, in the mean time, shall fondly cherish the remembrance of all your former friendship. Although I scarcely need tell you, how much I have been satisfied with every instance of your public conduct, yet I could not suffer Colonel Walker whose merits are too well known to you to need a recommendation of him from me, if anv. W thing should cast up favorable to his wishes, to depart for New York, without giving your Excellency one more testimony of the obligations I consider myself under for . the spirited and able assistance, which I have often derived from the State under your administration. The scene is at last closed. I feel myself eased of a load of public care. I hope to spend the remainder VOL IX. I A 2 WASHINGTONS WRITINGS. BT 5 . 1. of my days in cultivating the affections of good men, and in the practice of the domestic virtues. Permit me still@G±ë…¸Rÿ¾Úx  (less)

an i zferfect memoir of his ear professional lzfe. He prohibited my pablishing it but he did not forbid nzy showing it to any of his private friends, whom it might interest or amzlse, and to any members of his famiby, to whom it might impart either zizstrzsction or amusement. With a view to such limited circuZation, a n d f o r faciliity of reading, I have caused a fm copies on of the following pages to 6e printed and I intreat those who receive them to consider them confidential. TORR H Y I LL A , pril, 1868. Tmy Hill, 25th May, 1857. HAVE often regretted never having kept a journal in the course of my long life. During the greater portion of it, indeed, I was too much occupied to allow time for the purpose but when I left the Bar, at Christmas, I 843y I might have begun to do so, and have set down the recollections of an earlier period. It is now too late to repair the neglect but it may amuse my old agey and form some instruction for any member of my family who may hereafter engage in the same profession with my own, if I note some of the circumstances which have attended a life-for many years-of more uninterrupted prosperity than has often fallkn to the lot of man. B 2 L o r d J i gsdow z R e s c ollections. Its dawn was far from prohising so bright a day. My father, who was at the Chancery Bar, died in I 804, at a time when he had attained to very considerable business, but before he had been able to lay by any large sum. I collect from his fee-books that he must have been making about g2000 a year-3 good professional income for a junior in Chancery in those days, when fees seem to have been at least a third less in amount than they were in my time. My mother was left with fire children, three sons and two daughters, with not more than 35500 a year for their support and education@G±ë…¸Rÿ¾Úx  (less)

the Orange Prize.A wonderful new collection of short stories, most of which are published here for the first time.brbrWallis Simpson, the twice-divorced American woman for whom Edward VIII abdicated in 1936, ended her life (as the Duchess of Windsor) as the prisoner of her lawyer who would not allow anyone — friend, foe or journalist — to visit her in her Paris flat. Rose Tremain takes this true story and transforms it into an imaginative and ironic fiction. Her thesis is that Wallis, gaga and bed-ridden, had forgotten the king who gave up an empire for love of her.brbrThis superb story plays with the selectiveness of memory: why does Wallis recall the seemingly unimportant, while forgetting the glory days of her notoriety? She can remember her first two husbands — one a bit of a brute, the other very boring — but not the world-famous third one.brbrThe other stories in this magnificent collection range over a variety of themes, equally original and unexpected: an East German border guard, redundant after the Berlin Wall comes down in 1989, imagines that he might still have a purpose in life. He tries to reach Russia by bicycling across the hostile wastes of Poland. A jilted man gets his revenge. A baby grows wings. A character in an Impressionist painting escapes from his “frame” — or does he? And there’s a Christmas story set in a seedy hotel.“This collection is a jewel-box containing gems of near perfection … She's a consistently superior writer. Do yourself – and literature – a service: Read her.”br—iGlobe & Mail/ibrbr“. . . moving and tragic.bThe Darkness of Rose Tremain/bis never @2ýp£×ÿ¾Úx  (less)

copies in Norway alone. He lives in Oslo.brbrbriFrom the Trade Paperback edition./ib1/bbrbrToll Barrier at Alnabru.br1 November 1999.brbrA grey bird glided in and out of Harry’s field of vision. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Slow time. Somebody had been talking about ‘slow time’ on TV yesterday. This was slow time. Like on Christmas Eve before Father Christmas came. Or sitting in the electric chair before the current was turned on.brbrHe drummed harder.brbrThey were parked in the open area behind the ticket booths at the toll gate. Ellen turned up the radio a notch. The commentator spoke with reverence and solemnity.brbr‘The plane landed fifty minutes ago, and at exactly 6.38 a.m. the President set foot on Norwegian soil. He was welcomed by the Mayor of Ullensaker. It is a wonderful autumn day here in Oslo: a splendid Norwegian backdrop to this summit meeting. Let us hear again what the President said at the press conference half an hour ago.’brbrIt was the third time. Again Harry saw the screaming press corps thronging against the barrier. The men in grey suits on the other side, who made only a halfhearted attempt not to look like Secret Service agents, hunched their shoulders and then relaxed them as they scanned the crowd, checked for the twelfth time that their earpieces were correctly positioned, scanned the crowd, dwelled for a few seconds on a photographer whose telephoto lens was a little too long, continued scanning, checked for the thirteenth time that their earpieces were in position. Someone welcomed the President in English, everything went quiet. Then a scratching noise in a microphone.brbr‘First@+Ç®záHÿ¾Úx  (less)

copies in Norway alone. He lives in Oslo.b1/bbrbrToll Barrier at Alnabru.br1 November 1999.brbrA grey bird glided in and out of Harry’s field of vision. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Slow time. Somebody had been talking about ‘slow time’ on TV yesterday. This was slow time. Like on Christmas Eve before Father Christmas came. Or sitting in the electric chair before the current was turned on.brbrHe drummed harder.brbrThey were parked in the open area behind the ticket booths at the toll gate. Ellen turned up the radio a notch. The commentator spoke with reverence and solemnity.brbr‘The plane landed fifty minutes ago, and at exactly 6.38 a.m. the President set foot on Norwegian soil. He was welcomed by the Mayor of Ullensaker. It is a wonderful autumn day here in Oslo: a splendid Norwegian backdrop to this summit meeting. Let us hear again what the President said at the press conference half an hour ago.’brbrIt was the third time. Again Harry saw the screaming press corps thronging against the barrier. The men in grey suits on the other side, who made only a halfhearted attempt not to look like Secret Service agents, hunched their shoulders and then relaxed them as they scanned the crowd, checked for the twelfth time that their earpieces were correctly positioned, scanned the crowd, dwelled for a few seconds on a photographer whose telephoto lens was a little too long, continued scanning, checked for the thirteenth time that their earpieces were in position. Someone welcomed the President in English, everything went quiet. Then a scratching noise in a microphone.brbr‘First, let me say I’m delighted to be here . . .@ uÂ? (öÿ¾Úx  (less)

“I spent my twenties scouring the globe thinking there had to be a better city out there, until it dawned on me that Vancouver is the best one going.… I can only do three days in New York before I get psychotic and have to leave.” While his books enjoy popularity in the United States, half of his novels take place in Canada and about half of his characters are Canadian.brbrIn addition to winning acclaim as a bestselling novelist, Coupland is also a visual artist and award-winning designer. The moment seven-year-old Douglas discovered James Rosenquist in an encyclopedia, he was destined to be “in the pop world” – by the time he turned ten, all he wanted for Christmas was a Lichtenstein poster. Coupland remembers, “My first day of art school was the first day in my life I could pick up an object and say, ‘That's so beautiful,’ without getting beat up.” He graduated in sculpture from the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design in 1984, with a year spent in Hokkaido, Japan. In 1984 he attended the Instituto Europeo di Design in Milan, then the following year studied at the Japan-America Institute of Management Science in Honolulu, ending up working as a designer in the Tokyo magazine world. Back in Canada in 1987, he showed enough promise as a sculptor to be given a show, “The Floating World,” at the Vancouver Art Gallery.brbrTo pay his studio bills Coupland began writing about art, and soon found he was getting more out of writing than sculpture. Nonetheless, visual art has remained essential to his life. In his bookiCity of Glass/i,i/ihe examines Vancouver’s post-war architecture, and he recently finished an illustrated novel with animator@p£×=qÿ¾Úx  (less)