2 min

Monosyllabics by Laura E. Richards Readastorus - Classic Children's Stories

    • Stories for Kids

This story isn't really a story. It's a poem. What makes it's both unique and fun is that every word has just one syllable.Why don't you read along:The black cat satIn the fat man’s hat;“Oh, dear!” the fat man said.“May the great gray batCatch the bad black catWho has left me no hatFor my head!”The big brown bearTried to curl his hairTo go to the Fair so gay.But he looked such a frightThat his aunt took flight,And he cried till night, they say.A pale pink pig,In a large blond wig,Danced a wild, wild jigOn the lea;But a rude old goat,In a sky-blue coat,Said, “You’re nought but a shoat, tee hee!”A poor old KingSold his gay gold ringFor to buy his old wife some cream;But the cat lapped it upWith a sip and a sup,And his tears ran down in a stream.A large red cowTried to make a bow,But did not know how,They say.For her legs got mixed,And her horns got fixed,And her tail would getIn her way.A boy named SamHad a fat pet ram,And gave him some jamFor his tea;But the fat pet ramTried to butt poor Sam,Till he had to turnAnd flee.A girl named JaneHad a sad, bad painIn the place where she woreHer belt;She mopped and she mowed,And she screamed aloud,Just to show the crowdHow she felt.A sad, thin apeBought some wide white tapeTo trim a new capeFor his niece;But a bold buff calf,With a loud, rude laugh,Bit off one whole halfFor his geese.A pert, proud henLaid an egg, and thenSaid “Cluck!” and “cluck!” and“cluck!”Said the cock, “Had I knownYou would take that tone,I would have wooed noneBut a duck!”

This story isn't really a story. It's a poem. What makes it's both unique and fun is that every word has just one syllable.Why don't you read along:The black cat satIn the fat man’s hat;“Oh, dear!” the fat man said.“May the great gray batCatch the bad black catWho has left me no hatFor my head!”The big brown bearTried to curl his hairTo go to the Fair so gay.But he looked such a frightThat his aunt took flight,And he cried till night, they say.A pale pink pig,In a large blond wig,Danced a wild, wild jigOn the lea;But a rude old goat,In a sky-blue coat,Said, “You’re nought but a shoat, tee hee!”A poor old KingSold his gay gold ringFor to buy his old wife some cream;But the cat lapped it upWith a sip and a sup,And his tears ran down in a stream.A large red cowTried to make a bow,But did not know how,They say.For her legs got mixed,And her horns got fixed,And her tail would getIn her way.A boy named SamHad a fat pet ram,And gave him some jamFor his tea;But the fat pet ramTried to butt poor Sam,Till he had to turnAnd flee.A girl named JaneHad a sad, bad painIn the place where she woreHer belt;She mopped and she mowed,And she screamed aloud,Just to show the crowdHow she felt.A sad, thin apeBought some wide white tapeTo trim a new capeFor his niece;But a bold buff calf,With a loud, rude laugh,Bit off one whole halfFor his geese.A pert, proud henLaid an egg, and thenSaid “Cluck!” and “cluck!” and“cluck!”Said the cock, “Had I knownYou would take that tone,I would have wooed noneBut a duck!”

2 min