The Story Of Honesty

Whilst crossing off his daily chores, a glimmer, seemingly radiating from a mound of manure, had caught his eye. Some poor beast had downed the abandoned needle amidst a mouthful of its afternoon snack, and, presumably, plopped it out the next morning, fully intact. Mrs. Clarke, to her credit, stayed true to her word. Although her sewing needle returned in a somewhat grotesque, lackluster manner, she did indeed treat us to ice cream — even letting us get double

Miss Pennycress grabbed hold of her scissors and began to snip again. This time at pieces of green material. 'Come back after three o’clock so I can make alterations.’ By the time the men left the room, the first pieces were sewn together. Soon they would take shape as trousers and jackets.

There was a large roast of some kind on the table, a cold half-circle of cornbread, and a simmering pot of beans sitting on a folded towel in the center of the table. Charlotte knew good manners required that she wait for the others to return, but her growling stomach wouldn’t let her. Cicely started to break off some bread and Charlotte stood, looking for a knife. Carefully she cut the big half circle into eight wedges and put one slice on each of their plates. She repeated the process to slice a sliver of meat for each of them. Cicely reached over to spoon a huge pile of beans over both things on her plate and sat back

It was a disappointment that the first thing to escape Penny's mouth was a sneeze. "Ah-choo!" Already Penny had a tirade of insults ready to give up to the woman. But, the pluming cloud of dust was quicker, infiltrating her chest and preventing Penny from speaking. Instead, another got the chance to fire off some steam.

Craig awoke with his black cat, Thief, perched on his chest and pawing at his face. The sunlight was slipping through the curtains onto his bed, creating a warm spot for Thief to jump back onto once Craig threw him off his chest. Both he and his cat let out a long, loud yawn then got out of bed, ready for breakfast. Craig never liked the taste of coffee, so as he opened a can of cat food from the cupboard he walked over to the fridge to grab a ready-made smoothie. He settled on ‘tropical berry’ and set the can of food down for the cat so he could enjoy his meal without a high pitched whine. He sat down at his bar countertop and shuffled through the newspaper headlines on his tablet accompanied only by the soft smacking of his cat chewing. The rest of his world was still, if only for a moment.

At that moment, a butterfly landed on Hugo’s nose. The fluttering wings made Hugo sneeze loudly.

But it wasn’t meant to be. He suddenly walked into a swarm of flies so thick he could hardly breathe. He quickly closed his mouth, but it was too late. He was breathing agitated insects, through his mouth and even nose. He fell to the ground, felt slippery squishing

Once upon a time, there was a fairy. Her name was Betty. She was the only one who didn’t have wings. The other fairies always called her names. “I really want to get some wings, but . . . I don’t know how,” said Betty. Betty was sad. She wanted to search for wings, and that’s exactly what she did. She packed some water and some food to keep her going.

So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew his house in, and ate up the little pig.

Maggie wakes ups and rolls out of bed. Stepping over dirty laundry and dishes, she finally makes it to the closet doors. She looks past all the sweaters and blouses, her mom forced her to buy, and can’t find anything she wants to wear, so she gives up and picks out a shirt from the laundry basket. Even though it’s a of wrinkled mess, she still puts it on anyway. She makes her way to her dresser and pulls out a pair sweatpants. She grabs her crocs and makes her way to the bathroom. Maggie takes a ponytail holder and throws her hair into the regular messy bun she wears. Since she didn’t feel like cooking breakfast, she grabs a poptart and is out the door. As she walks up the bus stairs, she gets a text from her mom. The dreaded chore list. She

I plunk down by the fire and roll up my pant leg to reveal the sting on my knee. To my surprise, Rue places the handful of leaves into her mouth and begins to chew them. My mother would use other methods, but it’s not like we have a lot of options. After a minute or so, Rue presses a gloppy green wad of chewed leaves and spit on my knee. 200 “Ohhh.”

‘You heard me. Besides, everyone knows you ain’t nothing more than a coon, you don’t deserve a meter of this farm’. William steps back against the wall, as he can see Nugget’s face change with fury. Within a click of the fingers, Nugget’s clenched fist slams into the side of William’s face, blood drops and saliva flies through the air, as he falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes, crowding his hands over his face.

“This porridge is way too hot” said, Goldilocks. Then, Goldilocks went to the the third bowl of porridge, skipping the second one. “ Just right. I knew the third one was going to be good.” Goldilocks was very tired after the porridge, so she slugged up the stairs, and went straight to bed and fell asleep.

“I should probably get started on chores,” Amy said with a sigh. Then she grabbed the broom. She got to the kitchen to Mittens sitting there on the floor staring back at Amy with her big blue eyes. Mittens stared at Amy until Amy looked up for a split second and Mittens immediately laid down. I guess i'm not sweeping today. Amy thought to herself. Then she stepped over Mittens and balanced the broom against the wall. Amy looked at the pile of dishes that needed doing and decided to do them instead of sweeping the floor. She ran some hot water and mixed in dish soap and went to the cabinet to get the sponge. When she looked up her eyes met with Mittens about to jump into the dishwater.

There was a little rush, and the clank of a chain, and a large yellow-and-white dog appeared at the door of his tiny hut, which was half hidden among the tall grasses and flowers. Louisa patted him and gave him the corn-cakes. Then she returned to the house and washed the tea-things, polishing the china carefully. The twilight had deepened; the chorus of the frogs floated in at the open window wonderfully loud and shrill, and once in a while a long sharp drone from a tree-toad pierced it. Louisa took off her green gingham apron, disclosing a shorter one of pink and white print. She lighted her lamp, and sat down again with her sewing.