All audio files can be found on our catalog page: https://librivox.org/paris-pair-their-days-doings-by-beatrice-bradshaw-brown/
Each fortnight a poem is chosen to be recorded by as many LibriVox volunteers as possible!A poetic summary of a day in the life of two children in Paris. (D Lawrence)
This Fortnightly Poem was suggested by Carolin.
This fortnight's poem can be found here.
Set your recording software to:
Channels: 1 (Mono)
Bit Rate: 128 kbps
Sample Rate: 44100 kHz
Have questions on "how"?
Check LV's Recording Notes thread before recording. If this is your first recording, you'll also find this Newbie Guide to Recording useful.
Begin your reading with the abbreviated LibriVox disclaimer:
No more than 0.5 to 1 second of silence at the beginning of the recording!
Then read the poem:Paris Pair, Their Day's Doings by Beatrice Bradshaw Brown, read for LibriVox.org by [your name].
[Add, if you wish, date, your location, and/or your personal url.]
EIGHT O’CLOCK
JEANETTE is not a sleepy-head;
An easy task, to wake her!
At eight o’clock she springs from bed --
No need to call or shake her.
Her brother Jean—I grieve to state—
His patient bonne distresses;
’Tis often nearer nine than eight
Before at last he dresses.
NINE O’CLOCK
For dejeunier our children eat
A bowl of milk and bit of bread;
Or sometimes, for a special treat,
A croissant, crisp and fresh, instead.
Jeanette displays her bringing up.
For daintily she sips and lingers.
Her brother drains his brimming cup.
And then—oh, horror!—licks his fingers!
TEN O’CLOCK
AT ten o’clock the teacher comes
Bringing books and dreadful sums.
Jeanette’s patience never fails,
But Jean his lesson-time bewails.
For boys have better things to do
Than multiplying two by two!
ELEVEN O’CLOCK
The Luxembourg is a jolly place
To roll your hoop, and to run a race
With a gallant yacht, and win, of course.
Or caper about on a mettled horse!
And your heart is gay and your cheeks are bright—
And home you go with an appetite!
TWELVE O’CLOCK
LUNCHEON never comes too soon,
For we are nearly starved at noon!
Spinach and an omelette,
Salad, too, and better yet
Delicious jam with creamy cheese—
A dish that’s very sure to please!
Becoming gratitude they feel.
And thank le bon Dieu for their meal.
THIRTEEN O’CLOCK
Luncheon done,
They nap at one;
Truth to tell,
The two rebel.
Sleep was made for night, they say.
And never for a sunny day!
FOURTEEN O’CLOCK
WE think it quite a jolly lark
To go a-riding in the park.
Jeanette’s mount is safe and sure,
Upon his back she sits secure.
But Jean—another matter, quite!
His steed is proud and full of fight.
''Oo-la-la!” His bonne cries out—
“You’ll break your neck without a doubt!”
FIFTEEN O’CLOCK
Every perfect Frenchman’s heart
Thrills in keen response to Art.
Great his rapture when he sees a
Venus or a Mona Lisa;
And incomplete his education
Lacking Art Appreciation.
So our pair must learn to know
Da Vinci, Titian and Corot.
Their teacher knows the surest way:
She takes them to the Louvre each day.
SIXTEEN O’CLOCK
Feet were made to dance on, truly;
But Jean’s too often are unruly.
Now a dip and now a slide—
Watch the graceful Jeanette glide!
High upon her tippy-toes,
Light as gentlest breeze that blows.
Now a slip and now a stumble—
See her brother trip and tumble
Flat upon his nose!
SEVENTEEN O’CLOCK
AT five o’clock we take our tea;
Lighted candles on the table.
Sister dainty as can be,
And Brother good as he is able.
But he is generous through and through,
And gives Minette a bite or two.
EIGHTEEN O’CLOCK
AFTER tea it’s very jolly
To play with train and Mistress Dolly.
Over mountains, under tunnels,
Roaring flames and smoking funnels—
Hear the engine clank and clatter!
Drowning Jeanette’s quiet chatter
As she hugs her dolly tight
And makes her ready for the night.
NINETEEN O’CLOCK
LIFE is not alone for fun;
There are lessons to be done.
But oh, how hard to concentrate
On three from six and five times eight
When there’s a train upon the floor,
And bandits lurking by the door!
TWENTY O’CLOCK
A DAY that’s filled with pleasant things
Hastens by as if on wings.
It seems you scarce have gotten up
Before it’s time again to sup,
And say your prayers, and go to bed,
And dream of happiness ahead.
At the end of your reading, leave a space and then say:
End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
Please leave 5 seconds of silence at the end of your recording.
Save your recording as an mp3 file using the following filename and ID3 tag format:
File name - all in lowercase: parispair_brown_your initials in lowercase_128kb.mp3
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(And remember, anyone can suggest a poem for a certain week and/or coordinate an upcoming fortnightly poem! If you'd like to suggest a poem or coordinate a future Fortnightly Poetry project, please visit this thread.)
