 Preface to Child Whispers. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Child Whispers by Enid Blyton. Preface. The children of nowadays are different in many of their likes and dislikes from the children of ten years ago. This change of attitude is noticeable as much in the world of children's poetry as it is in other things. In my experience of teaching, I have found the children delight in two distinct types of verses. These are the humorous type and the imaginative political type, but the humor must be from the child's point of view and not from the grown-ups, a very different thing. And the imagination in the second type of poem must be clear and whimsical, otherwise the appeal fails and the child does not respond. As I found a lack of suitable poems of the types I wanted, I began to write them myself for the children under my supervision, taking in many cases the ideas humorous or whimsical of the children themselves as the theme of the poems. Finding them to be successful, I continued, until the suggestion was made to me that many children, other than those in my own school, might enjoy hearing and learning the poems. Accordingly, this collection of verses is put forward in the hope that it will be a source of sincere enjoyment to the little people of the world. Enid Blyton. End of preface, section one of Child Whispers by Enid Blyton. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Rosa Munda. In the garden very early, Rosa Munda's walking, and to her surprise she hears lots of fairies talking. She looks around but cannot see where they can be hiding. Not in any butterfly nor bee are they arriving. She goes to where the tulips grow and finds a sight of wonder. For out pop fairy elves and say, good morning, Rosa Munda. Disappointment. Once I found a fairy in my cup of tea. She was nearly drowned and wet as wet could be. I picked her out and dried her and asked her if she'd stay. Oh no, she said, I mustn't. And off she flew away. On strike. My dollies are so naughty, I'm afraid they've gone on strike. They won't let me undress them, but just do what they like. They say they want a penny to spend on Saturday. Unless I let them have it, they'll not join in my play. I can't let them behave so. They'll never grow up right, but I know they will be sorry when I don't kiss them good night. Fairy sight. If you want to see a fairy in the middle of the night, wrap the blanket around you and shut your eyes up tight. Say acral de ferre and open your right eye. And if you've been a good child, a fairy flutters by. End of section one. Section two of Child Whispers by Enid Blyton. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. A fairy necklace. The rain had rained all morning and then the sun shone fair and all the garden glittered with raindrops everywhere. There were raindrops on the grasses and raindrops on the trees and how they shook and shivered like diamonds in the breeze. And oh, I saw a fairy come flying right by me. She shook a score of raindrops from off the hazel tree. She slung them on a spider's thread, a necklace made of rain. She clashed them round her little neck and off she flew again, paying a call. I put on my hat with a band of blue and my frock with a frilly lace. I took my sunshade and held it up to keep the sun off my face. I thought I'd go calling like mother does and have pretty cakes for tea and sit on the edge of a chair and talk with a teacup on my knee. I walked all along the sunny road till I came to Mrs. Leroy's. I climbed the steps and I rang the bell. It made such a jangly noise and then I suddenly felt afraid and couldn't think what would I say when they opened the door. So I jumped the steps and I ran back home all the way. Nurse saw me coming in my best frock and oh, how she scolded me and that's why I'm wearing an overall now and not having jam for tea. Before breakfast, I found the garden early when the grass is bright with dew and I have to put galoshes on my feet. I'll tell you all I do there right away from people's view when the world is half awake and very sweet. I shake the lady hollyhocks to make the bees fly out and I see how much they've grown since yesterday. I pop the fattest fuchsia buds of gardeners not about and I blow the dandelion clocks away. I smell the honeysuckle and the lavender as well. I take the roselies falling down beyond. They're pink and white and beautiful just like a fairy shell and I save them up for sailing on the pond. I stand upon the mossy wall and smell the new moan hay and I feel the wind that blows the clouds along. I think there never, never could be such a lovely day and then I hear that horrid breakfast gong. Goblins. When I am cross as I can be and nothing's ever right then mommy says there's naughty goblins hiding at a site who try to make me do what's wrong and try to make me bad. They like me to forget things and make other people sad. I've never found them anywhere. I don't know where to look. I've only seen them in the pages of my picture book but oh I'm sure they're all about in everybody's house. Little creepy crawling things as quiet as a mouse. When Cook forgets to put the sugar in the Sunday cake and Gardner breaks the barrel wheel and loses daddy's rake and nurses very cross indeed and won't let me go out. I always know those nasty little goblins are about. I play next door with Peter and there's goblins even there. Although it's such a lovely house I can't think how they dare but often Peter's daddy is as grumpy as can be all over nothing so the goblins must be there you see. Whenever things go wrong I hide myself away to try and see those goblins and I'm sure I shall someday but if they bother you at all you try and catch them too and will you save them up for me to look at if you do. End of section two. Section three of Child Whispers by Enid Blyton. The Sleeprivox recording is in the public domain. The fairies bedtime. Just before they go to bed the fairy babes are told to sit upon their toad stools and to be as good as gold so down they sit all in a ring. It's supper time they know for look their little acorn cups are standing in a row. A fairy fills the little cups with dew and honey sweet and gives one to each little babe with something nice to eat. Then off into the trees they fly and curl themselves up tight inside a leaf that's soft and warm and there they sleep all night. Up the lane behind our house a little hill you climb and at the top on either side there is a summer time. A cornfield waving in the wind where poppies shake their head and peep at you between the corn a glowing dancing red. I'll tell you what I did one day when nurse was crossed with me and pulled my hair back in a plate as tight as could be. I crept up to the swaying corn and then the poppies there I sat down by myself and then I undid all my hair. I picked some gleaming poppies red the biggest I could find and wound them tightly in my curls and some hung down behind. I walked about so very grand till it began to rain when one by one the poppies fell and I went home again. A queer butterfly. I caught a lovely butterfly in Marianna's net it was the sweetest blue and gold the prettiest I'd seen yet but Marianna came and said the butterfly should be not mine but hers because the net belonged to her not me. We quarreled hard and didn't stop until my frock was torn and then she pointed down to where the net lay on the lawn. The butterfly was creeping out and spread its wings of blue and then stood up just fancy that you'd hardly think it true. We saw then what it really was a fairy come to play and all because we quarreled so she fluttered right away. Lovely frocks. In my mummy's wardrobe there are lots of lovely frocks I know because I've seen them hang there. There's purple and there's orange and a frilly one of blue and a yellow that is shiny like her hair. The satin frocks makes mommy look just like a fairy queen but she can't cuddle me at all in those and when she wears a silken frock it rustles like the trees but I can't kiss her because I spoil the bows and though I love her pretty dresses because she looks so grand what I like really best of all to see is when she's in the garden wearing just an overall and comes to romp and play about with me. End of section three. Section four of Child Whispers by Enid Blyton. The sleeper vox recording is in the public domain. The jolly wind. Hurrah says the wind as he sweeps along. Three cheers for the sun today. Just look at him shining away in the sky. Do come along children and play. I'll fly your kites on the top of the hill and I'll spin the old weathercock ground. I'll send your boat sailing away down the stream till bump they have all come aground. Come along while I turn the old windmill about and hear how it groans and creaks. Just see how I tweak off your bonnets and caps and hear all the laughter and shrieks. I'll make you run faster than ever before. I'll spin you around and about. Oh hurry up children and come out of school. Hurrah says the wind with a shout. The witch's balloons. Opposite the nursery sat a woman old and brown. I should think she was the very oldest person in the town. She sold balloons to children as they passed her corner there. She was very cross and horrid and she had a nasty stare. I looked at her one morning on a very windy day and she saw me and she stared at me in such a nasty way. I felt afraid and certain sure that she must be a witch and keep all sorts of stolen treasures hidden in a ditch. And as I looked at her and she was staring up at me I saw a fairy flying low from out the chestnut tree. She held a little knife and oh she cut the strings right through that held the big balloons together then away she flew and off went all the purple ones and off went all the pink a fly in the air as high as ever you could think around the chimney pots and right away up in the sky until they bumped into the clouds assailing slowly by. And then I looked to see what that old woman had to say but there wasn't any sign of her. She'd vanished right away. She must have been a wicked witch and by the fairy slain for though I've looked every morning she has never come again. Fairy music. I found a little fairy flute beneath a hair bell blue. I sat me down upon the moss and blew a note or two and as I blew the rabbits came around me in the sun and little mice and velvet moles came creeping one by one. A swallow perched upon my head, a robin on my thumb the thrusher sang in tune with me the bees began to hum. I loved to see them all around and wished they'd always stay when down a little fairy flew and snatched my flute away and then the swallow fluttered off and gone were all the bees the rabbits ran and I was left alone among the trees. The little folk on the hill. Right on the top of the feraling hill there's a queer little seat made of stone and sometimes I climb up the heathery slope and sit in the wind all alone. Nobody knows why the little seat's there. It's almost too tiny for me but I love to squeeze into it on a clear day and look over the hills to the sea. Sometimes I sat there and heard funny sounds and voices and though I've kept still I've only seen one of the queer little folk that I know live inside of the hill. For once I came quietly up to the stone and on it sat one of the folk. He was looking across all the hills to the sea but he vanished away when I spoke and that's how I know why the little seat's there and why it's small even for me. The folk put it there in the wind but they love to look over the hills to the sea. End of section four. Section five of Child Whispers by Enid Blyton. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Moon at Tea Time. I was playing in the meadow where there's not a single tree. I was throwing bits of sorrel at a fat old bumblebee and then I just looked up to see the clouds go sailing by and oh I saw the moon in daytime and I can't think why. Such funny things keep happening and they happened all today. First I found a weenie mice all cuddled in the hay then at home we've got a baby from I don't know where and now I find the moon at Tea Time sitting in the air. I'm sure it's wrong because the Bible says it's meant for night and look at hides behind the clouds it knows it isn't right. Now there it comes oh silly moon you make the sun look fine because bumping up against the clouds has rubbed off all of your shine. April. Oh April brings the cuckoo bird and April brings the rain. April hangs a hundred sunny raindrops in the lane. She can wash the sky with woolly clouds of purest white and gaily dress it up in rainbows curving out of sight. Oh April hangs the chestnut trees with spires of white and pink and kisses all the primroses along the river's brink. She peeps into the tiny nests where eggs are hidden well and searches out the purple violets growing in the dell. Oh April swings the apple blossom sweet against the sky and chases all the bobtail rabbits cuddling gaily by. She dances with the meadow cow slips drooping heads of gold. Oh April is the sweetest month that any year can hold. The silent pool. Away in the wood where it's dark there's a pool that is purplish green with whispering rushes around that murmur of things they have seen. I once lay enlistened all night and heard why the pool lies alone not even a fairy goes near and only the sad rushes moan. I heard how there once lived a witch who weaved wicked spells night and day and used the pool's purplish deeps for things which I wouldn't dare say. Then one day she vanished and went and never was seen any more but silent and still lay the pool and darker than ever before. No fairy knows what the pool holds and none guesses what secrets lie it's safely away in its deeps but shuddering all pass it by. Take heed when you go through the wood and pass where the pool lies alone not even a fairy goes near and only the sad rushes moan. This afternoon. This afternoon is very hot and all the sky is blue. The busy bees are humming loud. They have a lot to do. I want to go out in the fields where all the daisies grow and watch the little breezes bend the grasses to and fro. I want to watch the butterflies and hear the cuckoo call. I'd cuckoo back to see if he would answer me at all. The buttercups are shaking gold upon the dry brown earth and shiny beetles race along the ground for all their worth. I want to lie down on the grass and look up at the sky. It looks so queer and far away and wonderfully high. It's such a lovely afternoon with lovely things to see. Oh, why must I in my best frock be taken out to tea? End of section five. Section six of Child Whispers by Enid Blyton. The sleep-revox recording is in the public domain. The feeling. Inside of me there is a feeling lives that wakes when I see a rose or the snow or sunshine or daisy fields. It wakes for a time and then goes. When I suddenly see the rainbow shine right over the sky so wide and the sunshine gleams through the pouring rain I get that feeling inside. When I get out of bed on a winter's morning and look through my window pane and find the snow on the trees and fields I get the feeling again. When a great big wave comes sweeping up on a stormy and windy tide and crashes against the rocks and spray, I get the feeling inside. I once told Nanny just how I felt but I'm not going to tell her again. She didn't know at all what I meant. She called my feeling of pain the naughty gnome. A little gnome in fairyland once found a pot of glue and he of course began to think what mischief he could do. He smeared the toadstools one and all where on the fairy sat and oh how cross they were to find a naughty trick like that. He dropped some glue upon the grass to catch the fairy's feet when there came by the fairy king and queen with all their sweet. The king walked straight upon the glue and found he couldn't stir. The gnome and cried oh please have mercy sir I didn't mean to catch your feet within my sticky glue but please forgive me and I'll find some better thing to do. I'll pardon you the king replied but harken what I say go use your glue on chestnut buds to keep the frost away. So in the chestnuts every spring the gnome works all day long and if you touch a bud it is very strong. Six o'clock we always wake at six o'clock when nurses still asleep she's hidden under all the clothes her breaths are loud and deep we mustn't talk till seven strikes and so we just turn round and hear the milk carts going by they have a tinny sound I look up at the ceiling and I count the cracks I see and all the flies upon the wall once there were 23 Teddy pulls out feathers from the idardown and blows with all his might to make them drop on top of nurses nose I breathe on all the brassy knobs that feel so very cold they go quite dull till teddy rubs and makes them shine like gold and now I've told you all these things if you wake early too and mustn't talk till seven strikes you'll know just what to do the imp's mistake as Anna slept beside the fire an imp as black as suit came down the chimney in a bound and landed by her foot he looked at her black shining shoe a frown came on his face he thought it was a piece of coal a tumbled from its place and so he started tugging hard to put it back again upon the fire when Anna woke and gave a cry of pain a little imp she cried just leave my foot alone and in a trice the imp had jumped and up the chimney flown so when you're sitting by the fire it's better on the hole to keep awake in case that imp should think your shoes are coal end of section six section seven of child whispers by Enid Blyton this LibriVox recording is in the public domain put to bed the sun is shining hot and bright the gardener's mowing grass he's doing it with all his might I hear his footsteps pass nurse put me here in bed alone because I've not been good I think her heart is hard as stone I didn't think she would I haven't been so very bad I'll tell you what I've done I took a pencil that I had a lovely orange one I drew a splendid pattern in the tree room and hall in trees that grew up from the ground right up the nursery wall I'd started on a giant's head I know just how they're made when nurse came in so cross and red it made me feel afraid I never had behave she said so wickedly before she made me go upstairs to bed and then she banged the door she took my toys and books and ball and all the bricks I built they're not here that's nice at all except granny's patchwork quilt the merry breeze round about the orchard went the merry little breeze playing with the butterflies and teasing all the bees sending showers of apple blossom down upon the ground and spilling half the dew drops from the grasses all around he ruffled up the feathers of the ducks assailing by and hustled all the lazy clouds he swung the beaches to and fro then darted off again to dry the shiny puddles scattered down along the lane the chimney smoke he twisted in the queerest kind of way until at last the little breeze was weary of his play he crept back to the orchard where the daffodilies peed and there it was I found him lying curled up fast to sleep an accident we've a little summer house with a pointed top and on it watching us at play the fairies often stopped but now we've done a dreadful thing and frightened them away because by accident our ball struck two of them today it bounced upon the summer house and hurt the fairies there they flew away with cries of pain and said it wasn't fair each day we watch our summer house and watch the pointed top but now the fairies fly around they never come to stop a happy ending I found a ship upon the sea already waiting there for me so I jumped and off we've sped to gleaming waters far ahead but soon a wind came moaning by and clouds filled all the sunny sky the sea was speckled with the rain and my ship rolled and rolled again the waves crashed grandly on the deck sails dripped raindrops down my neck then straight ahead I spied a rock and braced myself to meet the shock crash we struck and there we stayed while rain and storm around us played the ship at once began to fill and down and down we sank and till I yelled in fear and clutched the side half drowning in the racing tide and just as masked and rigging broke I found myself in bed and woke end of section 7 end of child whispers by Enid Blighton