Trudging uphill and down over the country roads, day after day, wore Paddy’s shoes so thin that sometimes he wondered if he shouldn’t have apprenticed to a shoemaker. But that would have been inside work, and Paddy preferred fresh air and sunshine.
Young Paddy was slight of build, but strong. He had a pleasant face, though his short brown hair, which he cut himself, stuck out here and there under his cap. His tweed jacket may have been a mite small, but Paddy kept it clean, taking care to brush off the dust at the end of each day’s work. However, in spite of his earnest appearance, no one wanted to hire poor Paddy.
Indeed, the farmers much admired the fields Paddy plowed, the long rows of potatoes he planted, and the hay that he stacked. Yet there were some things the wandering lad could not do. He could not tell stories, nor sing songs, nor play the flute or fiddle to entertain the farmers. And the farmers needed that, too.
“Haven’t yeh got a story to tell, Paddy?” a farmer once asked after sharing supper with the boy. “Or maybe some news or a song?”
Paddy looked at the ceiling. Then he looked at the floor. Finally, he shuffled his feet until the farmer, hopeful for any amusement, thought Paddy might be about to dance. Instead, not saying a word, Paddy just slowly shook his head no.
Well, each farmer who had an experience with Paddy told another, so it wasn’t long before Paddy’s reputation as a boring person was known throughout County Limerick.
Denne historien er fra October 2019-utgaven av Cricket Magazine for Kids.
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Denne historien er fra October 2019-utgaven av Cricket Magazine for Kids.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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The Tale Of Paddy Ahern
THERE ONCE WAS a lad named Paddy Ahern who trod the green hills of Limerick, Ireland, offering to help farmers with their chores in return for food and lodging.
The Pedestrians
EACH TIME HELGA Estby looked over her shoulder, the big cat was there. Crossing Wyoming’s Red Desert on foot, in the dust and heat of August 1896, was tough.
The Magic Gifts
A Basque Folk Tale
The Dragon's Scales
“THREE YEARS I'VE been waiting, when Torquil promised he’d return them in three days. I’m not waiting three more days to get back what’s mine!” The dragon punctuated his remarks with a smoky snort and a lashing tail.
The Water Bucketre
A Chinese Folk Tale.
Between The Pages
One rainy night, while alone in the castle library with her talking gargoyle, Marcus, Princess Audrey finds a book with the odd title Finding Angel. Meanwhile, in modern times, a girl named Angel is celebrating her thirteenth birthday.
Swim Buddies
I LEAN OVER the side of the catamaran and peer into the crystal blue water. This is my last chance, I think.
The Bushwhackers
I CAN’T ABIDE living one more day in this pigpen!” I groaned and rolled out of bed to pull on my dress.
As American as Appleless Pie!
NOTHING IS MORE American than the humble apple pie. There’s even an old saying to prove it: “as American as apple pie.” So it may come as a surprise that many early settlers who forged the trails of our expanding nation were often without apples to make this most American of desserts. As pioneers headed west in pursuit of territory and gold, they had to leave many things behind, including apples. Not only did life on the trail make fresh fruit like apples hard to carry and keep, apple trees were native only to the east coast, which made finding apples in the West nearly impossible.
The Man Who Built A Better Leg
THE CIVIL WAR was only a few weeks old when seven hundred and fifty Confederate recruits gathered in the fields around Philippi, Virginia. It was early June 1861, and as yet there had been no real battles. The men had eagerly volunteered, but most had no training as soldiers. Their only weapons were the ones they brought from home— old-fashioned flintlock muskets, cap and ball pistols, and a few shotguns.