B1 Intermediate 5670 Folder Collection
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A bedtime story for children, in English.
"TINY MITE"
Once upon a time there was a little boy who was so small that his parents named him Tiny.
When he raced around the house with his tiny legs whirring and his tiny hands waving, he
was so much fun to watch that his grandfather nicknamed him Mite. That is how he became
known as Tiny Mite. He was only a few inches tall.
His father bought a toy house for Tiny Mite and furnished it with a tiny bed, table, closet,
and everything else to make it cozy and comfortable. His mother sewed him a down blanket for his
bed and glued a beautiful carpet onto his floor. The shelves were filled with toys and
a violin for Tiny Mite to play in the evening. He loved his home and felt safe there. But,
being a mischievous and cheerful boy, he often left his little toy house and ran around the
big house, waving his hands comically. The grownups were so deathly frightened of stepping
on him that they found a shiny silver bell for him to wear around his neck.
In Tiny Mite's eyes, everything looked enormous and mysterious -- at times downright intimidating.
Imagine a cat that looks like a fierce tiger and a dog the size of a monster! The cat and
the dog both loved Tiny Mite and were super-careful when touching him. Tiny Mite knew they would
never deliberately do anything to hurt him. Still, whenever they came near, his heart
started pounding and he ran back into his house as fast as his little legs could move.
At suppertime he would stroll around the table top as though it were a huge magic carpet,
covered with all the treats his heart could imagine. He enjoyed gathering cookie crumbs
and licking up drops of spilled milk. His mother scolded him, but he still loved to
get into mischief like any little boy.
His mother sewed him two suits, an ordinary gray suit for everyday use and a second one
for special occasions. The special one had a blue jacket with silver buttons, and Tiny
stored it in a chest in his little toy house. On holidays and when company came, he wore
the special suit and put on his shiny boots and spurs. He looked like a fairy-tale prince.
Tiny was surrounded with love, and he had everything his heart could desire. But then
one day his world changed completely.
On that particular day, he felt curious about the outside world. He put on his festive jacket
with the silver buttons, his shiny boots with the spurs, and he checked to make sure the
silver bell was hanging around his neck. He ran over to the door and slipped through the
opening made for the dog to run in and out. He squinted at the bright light. Everything
to him was new and a bit scary. He could have surrendered to his fear and gone back inside,
but instead he walked ahead into the unknown, watching every step he took. Finally he reached
the main road. As he looked up at the trees lining the street, he was awestruck. People
were scurrying about in all directions, and any one of them could have easily crushed
Tiny Mite underfoot like a bug.
Tiny raced down the sidewalk and right into the open door of the first shop he came to.
He quickly hid under a counter. It was a toy store.
Looking out, he could see huge shoes and boots promenading around the store. Some of the
shoes were much smaller than the others. The owners of the smaller shoes were whining and
pleading for some toy or another. Even the small shoes seemed like giants to Tiny Mite,
and he decided to wait until they all left.
When evening came, the store closed and became so silent you could hear a pin drop. Tiny
cautiously came out and walked from room to room. He had to catch his breath when he saw
how many toys there were. Almost every toy was much, much too big for him. Only two attracted
him: a small wind-up frog that began to jump about when Tiny saw it, and a small mouse
toy. At first he backed away from the mouse in fright. Then he laughed out loud. Who ever
heard of someone being afraid of a toy!
Right before the store opened in the morning, Tiny scurried back to his hiding place. He
was very, very hungry. He missed his little house. Fortunately, a careless salesgirl had
spilled some cookie crumbs onto the floor. He ate them and was almost sound asleep, when
suddenly two pairs of shoes appeared next to the counter. Two were big and very stylish.
The other two were smaller and not so fancy. Tiny guessed correctly that they belonged
to a mother and daughter, in the store to look at the toys.
Suddenly something rolled right toward him. It was an enormous silver-colored wheel. Tiny
was barely able to lurch to one side in time to escape. Immediately a small hand in a glove
began to sweep the area under the counter and happened to bump into Tiny Mite.
"Oh, wow," a shrill voice exclaimed. "There's something down here!"
A second later Tiny found himself parked in the middle of the palm of a gigantic hand.
A pair of enormous sparkling eyes with shaggy eyelashes was staring right at him.
"Mom, take a look!" said the girl, holding out her hand for her mother to see. "See
how cute and funny he is! Let's take this miraculous little creature home."
And that is how Tiny Mite ended up in Sonya's house.
Sonya's father bought a toy house with furniture for Tiny Mite. Sonya's mother sewed him
a little blanket and laid down a beautiful carpet for him. And everything was just perfect,
except that he didn't have the violin he had loved to play in the evening.
Sitting with his back propped up against a warm soup tureen one evening, Tiny Mite thought
back to his own mother and father. He remembered the violin that had been more precious to
him than anything. His eyes filled with tears. Sonya wept with him. Her father took Tiny
into his broad hands and ran his fingers gingerly though the boy's curly hair.
"Tell me what's the matter, big guy... Don't you like living here with us?"
"No, it's not that." Tiny Mite answered. "It's just that I miss my violin. You
see, I'm a violinist."
"You're one violin player that's going to have a violin," he said. "There, there,
don't you cry. It really makes me sad to see you cry."
Tiny Mite wiped his eyes and sighed. Sonya also stopped crying and caressed the boy gently.
Days passed with no sign of a violin. Sonya's father kept looking for someone able to build
a miniature violin, but one by one, all the instrument makers turned down the order. Who
can blame them!
One evening, Sonya's father came home in the evening after work and told everyone,
rubbing his hands eagerly: "Well, Tiny, it looks like I have found the right craftsman.
He makes amazing things, so tiny you can hardly believe. He promised to make you a violin."
Quite a few days passed and finally Sonya's father brought home a tiny violin in a silver
case. There it was: a genuine violin, with strings and a bow -- only everything was
much, much smaller!
"Tiny, dear Tiny," said Sonya. "Play something for us!"
Tiny Mite stood up in the middle of the table, took hold of the violin, tossed back his golden
curls, and began to play. He became so absorbed in his inspired playing that the adults had
tears in their eyes, and Sonya kissed his pink little cheek.
From that time on, Tiny Mite did not cry any more. He spent his days playing the violin,
warming himself by the soup tureen, and fleeing from the cat. He felt at ease in his new family
and he began to spend less time remembering his parents and his grandfather, who had nicknamed
him Mite.
One day Sonya's father announced that the family was going to their summer cottage.
Tiny Mite loved adventures and rushed to pack his trunk. He packed his little silver violin-case
with the violin inside, his blue jacket, his shiny boots, and a wind-up toy frog that Sonya's
father had given him.
The cottage turned out to be a large house with enormous windows and a terrace. Tiny
Mite was a little afraid of going out into the garden. Flaming red roses straddled the
garden fence and the garden itself was full of broad flowerbeds of phlox and iris.
Sonya took a small basket, put Tiny Mite inside and set out on a walk. Tiny Mite squeezed
his eyes shut.
"Open your eyes and don't be afraid," said Sonya, laughing. "Take a look at how
beautiful everything is."
Tiny gradually got used to these walks. One day he decided to venture into the garden
by himself.
Tiny could barely make his way through the stalks of grass. They towered so high above
him that they were like trees in a rain forest. He walked on and on with no thought of where
he was going. All of a sudden, something he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. In front
of him stood a small insect, leaning for support on its little legs. The insect was even smaller
than Tiny Mite.
"Who are you?" he asked, taking one step backward to be play it safe.
"My name is Bug," answered the insect. She blew her nose. "Sorry, I have hay fever
today. I must have sniffed too many flowers."
"Do you really have to go around sniffing flowers?" asked Tiny Mite.
"Of course," answered Bug, and blew her nose again.
"So how do you get up so high?"
"It's really very simple. I crawl up the stem of the plant and then sniff until I get
dizzy. I just overdid it."
"What kind of a smell do they have?"
"They smell divine," answered Bug. "The scent cannot be compared with anything else
in this world."
"Excuse me," said Tiny Mite. "But why is your name Bug? My grandfather called me
a mite because I jump around so fast." Hearing this, Bug commented with a certain
amount of family pride, "I inherited my name from my ancestors.
My Mom and Dad, my grandfather, grandmother, and my brothers and sisters... All of my relatives
are bugs. There are millions of bugs out there."
But Tiny Mite only knew how to count up to ten and didn't know what a million was,
so that didn't impress him.
"Is that a lot?" he asked courteously.
"Well, it is ..." Bug didn't know how to explain and said, waving the little legs
on her hind legs like a fan, "It's this many!"
"That's a whole lot of relatives," said, Tiny Mite, a bit overwhelmed.
"Don't get upset. We're good folks, and we'll take you into our family."
"I don't want to join your family. I have a family of my own," said Tiny proudly.
"Well, have it your way, then," said Bug. "We'll have to decide if we really want
you... You don't even know how to climb up stems."
Bug was just about to leave, when Tiny Mite quietly remarked, "But -- I do know how
to play the violin."
Bug stopped in her tracks. She stood still for a moment and turned back to face Tiny.
Her eyes were wide open like two little saucers. "What did you say? Did you say you play
the violin?"
"I do."
"Do you also know how to conduct an orchestra?" asked Bug, her voice quavering.
"Hmm... I don't know. I never tried... Anyway, I have nobody to conduct. I'm all
alone."
"That's not true!! You will have an orchestra. But first I've got to teach you to climb
up flower stems and even tree trunks."
Tiny Mite felt queasy from just thinking about it. Even the stalk of a flower was huge to
him. And now Bug wanted him to climb a tree, one of those skyscrapers reaching halfway
to the stars, with its branches rocking in the wind!
"There's nothing to be afraid of," Bug said, and laughed. "I was also afraid at
first."
Then Tiny Mite remembered that he had never had any friends. He had once had a mother,
father, and a grandfather. Then Sonya had found him in the toy store... But he had never
had any real friends.
"So would you like to be my friend?" he asked.
"You have to earn that privilege... I can't even count the number of my friends. So having
one friend more or less won't make any difference."
"No... I don't want to be the kind of friend that can't be counted. I want to
be someone's best friend."
Bug paused for a while. The she said sadly, "You know, I used to have a friend. He and
I used to climb up and down the stems and trees together. We swam in the drops of dew.
But he's gone now..."
"What happened to him?"
"A little boy caught him, put him in a box and took him home. Losing a friend is a real
hard thing..." She sighed again.
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Tiny. "I lost my mother and father."
"You know what," Bug said, smiling through her tears. "I think I'll invite you home."
"Really! I've never been invited to someone's home."
"Come tomorrow. You see that tree over there? The door to our house is at the bottom of
the tree."
"I'll be there for sure!" said Tiny, waving to her as he walked away.
The next morning, remembering his date with Bug, he waited impatiently for everyone in
the summer cottage to go their separate ways.
Finally, Sonya's father left for town to take care of some work, driving a car that
looked and sounded to Tiny Mite like a booming dinosaur. Sonya's mother went to have tea
with a neighbor. Sonya herself went scampering off to a nearby creek with some of her girlfriends.
Tiny Mite went back into his little toy house, combed his hair, put on his favorite blue
jacket and boots, and took his silver violin case. He then cautiously made his way down
the leg of the table onto the floor. The door to the porch was open. Tiny crossed the threshold
and stepped onto the smooth boards. He waded through mounds of lilac flowers that had fallen
onto the porch. Finally his legs reached the ground and he was in the garden.
The tree where his friend lived was a short walk from the porch, but it was long and tiresome
for Tiny, who had to fight his way through a dense and shady jungle.... Drenched in sweat,
he eventually arrived at Bug's house.
Catching his breath, Tiny Mite knocked uncertainly on the door. It swung open a second later,
and Tiny saw his friend from the day before. She had on a fluffy blouse made of iris petals;
on her head she wore a small, light-colored hat.
"What a beautiful hat you have," said Tiny, knowing that ladies love compliments.
"Thank you," said Bug, smiling. "My grandmother sewed it from silver thread."
"And where did she ever find silver thread?" asked Tiny.
"From Uncle Spider. He lives nearby and sometimes drops by in the evening to spend
time playing cards with Grandpa."
"What? You're friends with spiders?" said Tiny, surprised.
"They're nice," said Bug, laughing. "It's just that they aren't very good-looking...
So come in, won't you! We're glad to see you," she said and opened the door wider.
He walked in and let out a big "Aah." In front of him stood the entire Bug family.
"These are my brothers and sisters. And they all play different instruments," said
Bug. "By the way, did you bring your violin along?"
"I have it here," said Tiny, smiling. He was glad that he would now have musicians
to perform with.
Bug's mother invited everyone to the table. They drank strawberry leaf tea with wild honey.
It was a lively affair, as the little bugs laughed and jostled one another. The youngest
bug, named Bashy, walked up to Tiny Mite and asked, lisping:
"Are you going to be staying with us?"
"No, I am just here for a visit. I have my own home."
"And will you invite me to your place?"
"Of course. I just have to ask Sonya about it first."
"And who is Sonya?" asked Bashy.
"My sister," answered Tiny.
"So you only have one sister?"
"Only one," sighed Tiny.
"Why so few?" said Bashy insistently. "I have so, so many..."
"Now, you children go ahead and play. I have chores to do," said Bug's mother
and left.
Finally the insect musicians took their seats, holding their instruments at the ready. Binky,
the oldest, had glasses hanging over her nose. Sitting at the piano, she was looking over
the rim of her glasses at her younger brothers and sisters with a stern expression on her
face.
Tiny seized the conductor's baton and waved it. What came next was the most amazingly
unharmonious screeching sound! Everyone was playing something different, like runners
running off in dozens of different directions! There was no melody, no harmony....
"So you see," said Bug, approaching Tiny. "We really need a conductor. Without one
we're lost. All our hopes are on you."
"But I've never conducted," said Tiny Mite uncertainly.
"Well, so what? There's a first time for everything," said Bug. "Let's try it
one more time."
Two hours passed, and the insects continued playing. Finally Tiny remembered it was time
for him to go home.
He banged his baton on the lectern and gave a little talk in a stern voice. "Everybody
has homework to do. You must learn your parts. Next rehearsal is tomorrow."
Weeks passed. Tiny kept on rehearsing with his orchestra and visiting Bug's house.
One day, Bashy's twin, Bushy, stood in front of the orchestra and belted out a song about
the dew.
At the crack of dawn with the morning breeze,
I was picking dew from the tops of the trees.
When I got home, all my pockets were bare,
So where are the dewdrops that I had in there?
Hey ho, hey ho,
Hey ho, hey ho,
Hey ho, hey ho,
Where did my dewdrops run to?
While singing, he threw open the pockets on his shorts with a strap and kicked out his
little legs in a way that had everyone laughing.
Bashy accompanied on violin, and gave such a virtuoso performance that her brothers tossed
her into the air like a real star. She protested, lisping heavily: "Be careful, now! You will
crease my gown!"
All the insects laughed, because she was not wearing a gown at all, just a little baby's
apron.
The insect family fell in love with Tiny and often had him over for supper.
After he had learned to go up and down the blue-bell and iris stalks with ease, he and
Bug would climb to the top and rock back and forth on the flower as though it were a swing.
In the mornings, dewdrops glistened on the petals like diamonds. Tiny and his friend
loved to drink the dew, and they also used the dew to make swimming pools to splash and
bathe in.
Sometimes a bee would fly up to a flower. Then Bug would wave all her little legs to
chase it away. The bee would then circle, buzzing angrily until it eventually flew off.
Bug and Tiny Mite reveled in the smell of roses as they gathered wild honey, went to
pay social calls to other insects, and played hide-and-go-seek. They also found time for
such all-important matters as rehearsing!
One rainy day Tiny and Bug were sitting inside a blue-bell flower, taking shelter and talking
about music and the great composers. Tiny described how he would some day perform on
a big stage and everyone would applaud.
'What a shame my friend won't be able to attend that concert," said Bug sadly.
"What's your friend's name?" asked Tiny.
"His name is Cricket. He's a violinist like you, and he enjoyed playing in our orchestra."
"So let's save him," said Tiny.
"How? The boy that caught him is very mean. He won't give up Cricket for anything."
"There are no mean boys," said Tiny confidently. "Only spoiled boys."
"Oh well, what's the difference?" exclaimed Bug. "Cricket is locked up in a dungeon
either way!"
"Listen up," said Tiny and smiled. "I have a plan to set him free."
"Aha," said Bug. "Others braver than you have already tried. He's inside a box
with a tight lid. No one can open it."
"But I know one person who will help us."
Bug looked at Tiny Mite from head to toes then said, "If your friend is as small as
you are, she won't be able to."
"How could you think I am so stupid?" said Tiny, his feelings hurt. "Sonya is
millions of times taller than me."
"If she were a million times taller, then her head would reach the sky," said Bug
sarcastically.
Tiny did not know how to count beyond ten. What he did know was that Sonya was much taller
than him. And he remembered that Bug had talked about having millions of relatives...
"All right then," said Bug. "Let's not quarrel. This is serious. Let's concentrate
on how to save our friend."
On the evening of the following day, while standing by the hot soup tureen in Sonya's
house, Tiny Mite played the little's girl's favorite compositions for her again, bowing
gracefully like a professional after every performance.
"Go ahead and tell me all about it," said Sonya, laughing. "What do you have on your
mind?"
Tiny Mite clambered up onto her shoulder and whispered: "There's a very good violin
player who needs your assistance."
Sonya was a nice girl. When she heard about the violin-playing grasshopper imprisoned
inside a matchbox, she got on the telephone and starting asking all her girlfriends if
they knew a boy who caught crickets.
Several days went by, and the phone rang.
Sonya answered. There was no sound at all on the other end of the line. Sonya kept repeating,
"Hello, this is Sonya. May I help you?"
Finally a deep voice on the other end of the line spoke. "Is your name Sonya?"
"This is Sonya. So what's up?"
"My sister said that you were looking for a certain cricket."
"Yes, I am," answered Sonya. She felt like hanging up.
"Wait," said the boy's voice. "The cricket you're looking for may be my Cricky."
"Who is Cricky? I don't know any Cricky."
"That's the name of my cricket. I keep him in a box so he won't run away."
"It's not nice to keep animals locked in a jail," said Sonya sternly.
"All right, don't start preaching at me," said the boy. His feelings were hurt. "Instead,
why don't you tell me how much I can get for him."
"What do you want?"
"I am not asking for a whole lot," said the boy in business-like voice. "Buy me
a Boy Scout knife."
"Oh, so you can carve nasty words on trees?"
"No, I'm not going to carve on trees. I need it for my work."
"Until you tell me what kind of work you want it for, you won't get the knife."
You see, Cricky is a violinist. He needs a violin. I want to make him one out of a match."
"All right," said Sonya. 'Let's meet on the beach tomorrow."
The following day, Tiny woke up at the crack of dawn and tried to awaken Sonya.
"Everyone is still asleep," she said, laughing. But when she saw the pleading in
his eyes, she rapidly dressed, took a basket, put the little boy into it, and headed out
to the beach.
It was cool. The dew glistened on the grass. The first rays of the morning sun could be
seen.
There was a boy sitting on the beach, facing the lake and tracing something on the sand
with a stick.
Sonya sat down a few feet away from him. "Do you happen to know anything about a cricket?"
she asked.
"Yes, I have it here with me," he said. He sighed and handed her a matchbox.
Sonya took a Boy Scout knife from her pocket and gave it to the boy.
"Thank you," he said, and began to leave.
He happened to glance at the basket and noticed Tiny Mite there. He was so shocked that he
was speechless for a few moments.
When he caught his wits, he whispered: "Who is that?"
"That's Tiny," answered the girl. "My little brother."
"Can I hold him?" asked the boy.
"Are you kidding?" Sonya answered sharply. "And give you a chance to shove him into
a box and demand more ransom from me?"
"That was different. I was the one who caught the cricket, because I wanted to make him
a real violin..."
"What makes you think I'm going to believe you?" said Sonya and left for home.
As she walked down the road, Sonya opened the matchbox a crack and said softly: "Don't
be afraid, Cricket, we won't do anything bad to you. We are going to take you back
to Bug."
They approached the tree where Bug's family lived. Tiny softly knocked on the door. The
door opened and there was Bug, standing in the doorway. She was wearing an outfit made
of green leaves with a fluffy skirt and silvery frills.
Sonya bent down to the ground and said: "Hello, Bug. I'm Tiny's sister. We have a surprise
for you."
Then she opened the matchbox.
Out jumped Cricket and was greeted by hundreds of little insects.
Oh, how happy the whole house was! The whole family ran out to greet Cricket. Bug and Cricket
stood there, hugging, scarcely aware that anyone else was around.
Sonya placed Tiny back into her basket and went home, leaving quietly so as not to disturb
anyone.
The next morning Tiny went to rehearsal as usual. He quietly knocked at Bug's door,
but no one answered. He knocked once more. The door opened a crack and out peered the
smallest bug of them all. Lisping very noticeably, she said: "Everyone has gone to the woods."
"To the woods? But what about the rehearsal?"
"I don't know. I have a sore throat, so I had to stay home. Everyone else is in the
forest, celebrating Cricket's return."
Tiny said goodbye and headed home. He felt depressed. He had gotten used to being with
Bug's family, rehearsing music with them, and drinking tea with wild honey... What fun
he and Bug had had together: swinging from the little blue-bell flowers, splashing each
other with dew, climbing up and down the flower stems and tree trunks... Tiny Mite started
to cry.
He slowly made his way through the grass, thinking sad thoughts. "How can they do
this to me? I saved Bug's friend, and then she forgot about me. She promised she would
be my friend...".
Suddenly a voice came from somewhere above. "Tiny, crawl up to us."
Tiny Mite lifted his head and saw Bug and Cricket, who were cheerfully waving to him
with their little legs from the branch of a tree.
"Hey, my friend," said cricket. "We've been waiting for you. Climb up to where we
are and we'll enjoy the view. Then we'll go hold a rehearsal."
Tiny crawled up the tree and was soon seated next to them, enjoying the sight of the rising
sun.
"Let's also be friends," said Cricket and held out a leg for Tiny to shake. "We're
colleagues, after all."
"It's a deal," said Tiny, laughing.
Now he had two friends, both of them musicians!
That day, everyone played much better than usual. Cricket played first violin, Bashy
played second. The boy bugs played trombone and percussion, while Bug's sister, the
stern-looking Binky, accompanied on the piano.
Cricket coaxed beautiful music from his new violin, a gift from the boy who had once captured
him. He had carved it from a wooden match with the Boy Scout knife that Sonya had given
him. It was covered with varnish and equipped with tiny strings.
Finally the orchestra was ready for a performance. Tiny was delighted with his little musicians
and decided to hold a concert for grown-ups.
Sonya made a big sign and hung it by the store in the village where the people from the summer
cottages bought groceries. So many people were interested in attending that Sonya's
father brought all the chairs from the cottage out onto the terrace.
For a long time they debated where to place the orchestra. Finally Sonya's father said:
"I think my old hat will do the trick."
It was just the thing they needed. Laughing and roughhousing, the insects took their seats
on the brim of the hat. There was even enough space for the piano.
The audience could hardly imagine a concert could be held on such a small stage, but Sonya
and her father smiled as they explained. "Just be patient, you will see for yourselves in
a minute."
Finally the moment arrived.
The adults took their seats, the curtain was drawn back, and everyone saw the tiny orchestra,
with Tiny Mite standing out in front. He was wearing his blue jacket and shiny boots, along
with a white bow tie. He turned toward the audience and bowed like a real conductor.
Everyone clapped. Bashy came out onto the stage. She was wearing a magnificent gown
made of blue-bells with a beautiful silver belt. Her whole face glowing, she announced:
"Mozart... Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Symphony 40 in G minor."
Then she ran back to her spot.
Tiny took another bow, then turned to the orchestra and waved his baton.
Oh my, how they played, all the little bugs, crickets, and beetles! The music glided sweetly
into the air as their skillful legs worked the valves and bows of their miniature instruments.
The faces of the musicians were serious and focused.
All of a sudden, a voice came from the audience. "Tiny! That's our Tiny!"
Tiny Mite trembled and dropped his baton. He recognized his mother's voice. He thought
back to his original home, to his parents, and to his grandfather, the one who loved
him and had nicknamed him Mite...
Tiny turned toward the audience and scrutinized the faces of the people sitting on the terrace.
His mother was already stretching her arms out to him and stroking his blond hair, crying
tears of joy.
And that is how Tiny was reunited with his parents.
That could be the end of our story, but what about the little girl Sonya and her parents?
After all, they all loved Tiny, too... And what became of Cricket and the orchestra?
It is really very simple. Every winter, Tiny Mite lived with his parents. Sitting by the
warm soup tureen, he would recall his friends and look forward to the summer. Every summer,
his family moved to their summer cottage. There he would go visit Sonya and rehearse
with the insect orchestra in the mornings.
He became an excellent conductor and eventually began to hold real concerts all over town.
Everyone loved him very much and gave him toys. And the little girls who liked him would
sew him beautiful tuxedos. Before long, he had so many tuxedos that his father built
a special closet to hold them all. But his favorite was always the blue jacket his mother
had once sewn him.
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Bedtime story for children about little violinist

5670 Folder Collection
姚易辰 published on March 20, 2014
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