Somewhere in Massachusetts is a little town as beautiful as a garden. Nay, in summer-time I think this place is prettier than a garden; for it is not laid out in long, stiff beds and paths; but the roads wind about like rivers under its shady trees, and, wherever you see a bed of flowers, a cosey little house is sure to rise up in its midst; and then the hills,---- Did you ever read about the giant, who wouldn't give the fairies any peace, but chopped them up for mince-meat, and did all kinds of wicked things, till they resolved to kill him, if they could? The fairy queen, who was very wise, knew that the giant's strength lay in a great brass helmet which he wore; so she told her people to …
Your support pays for translating these classics into more languages.
Support for $12/month DonateSubscribers read with instant translation, without waiting for the free daily limit.