Mrs. Smith is feeling a little sad. This year, she’s going to be on her own for Christmas. Her daughter and grandchildren live too far away from her to come and stay.

Seated in her armchair, she closes her eyes and in her imagination, she sees her daughter again, with her golden, curly hair.

When she was very small, she used to tickle her ear and whisper: "I love you mummy!" to her. Those were such happy times, back then!

One day, when Aladdin was walking outside the town, an old man came up to him, and looking very hard in his face, said he was his father’s brother, and had long been away in a distant country, but that now he wished to help his nephew to get on. He then put a ring on the boy’s finger, telling him that no harm could happen to him so long as he wore it. Now, this strange man was no uncle of Aladdin, nor was he related at all to him; but he was a wicked magician, who wanted to make use of the lad’s services, as we shall see in a moment.

Aladdin found all the Magician had told him to be true; he passed quickly but cautiously through the three halls, so as not even to touch the walls with his clothes, as the Magician had directed. He took the Lamp from the shelf, threw out the oil, and wrapped it in his arms. As he came back through the garden, his eyes were dazzled with the bright-coloured fruits on the trees, shining like glass. Many of these he plucked and put in his pockets, and then returned with the Lamp, and called upon his uncle to help him up the broken steps.

The Magician, in an anger, then slammed down the trap-door, and Aladdin was shut up fast enough. While crying bitterly, he by chance rubbed the ring, and a figure appeared before him, saying, “I am at your command, the Genius of the Ring; what do you desire?”

Baum was born in Chittenango, New York in 1856 into a devout Methodist family. He had German , Scots-Irish , and English ancestry, and was the seventh of nine children of Cynthia Ann (née Stanton) and Benjamin Ward Baum, only five of whom survived into adulthood. [1] [2] "Lyman" was the name of his father's brother, but he always disliked it and preferred his middle name "Frank". [3]

Benjamin Baum succeeded in many businesses, including barrel-making, oil drilling in Pennsylvania, and real estate. L. Frank Baum grew up on his parents' expansive estate called Rose Lawn, which he fondly recalled as a sort of paradise. [4] Rose Lawn was located in Mattydale, New York . [5] Frank was a sickly, dreamy child, tutored at home with his siblings. From the age of 12, he spent two miserable years at Peekskill Military Academy but, after being severely disciplined for daydreaming, he had a possibly psychogenic heart attack and was allowed to return home. [6]

Baum started writing early in life, possibly prompted by his father buying him a cheap printing press . He had always been close to his younger brother Henry (Harry) Clay Baum, who helped in the production of The Rose Lawn Home Journal . The brothers published several issues of the journal, including advertisements from local businesses, which they would give to family and friends for free. [7] By the age of 17, Baum established a second amateur journal called The Stamp Collector , printed an 11-page pamphlet called Baum's Complete Stamp Dealers' Directory , and started a stamp dealership with friends. [8]

Mrs. Smith is feeling a little sad. This year, she’s going to be on her own for Christmas. Her daughter and grandchildren live too far away from her to come and stay.

Seated in her armchair, she closes her eyes and in her imagination, she sees her daughter again, with her golden, curly hair.

When she was very small, she used to tickle her ear and whisper: "I love you mummy!" to her. Those were such happy times, back then!

One day, when Aladdin was walking outside the town, an old man came up to him, and looking very hard in his face, said he was his father’s brother, and had long been away in a distant country, but that now he wished to help his nephew to get on. He then put a ring on the boy’s finger, telling him that no harm could happen to him so long as he wore it. Now, this strange man was no uncle of Aladdin, nor was he related at all to him; but he was a wicked magician, who wanted to make use of the lad’s services, as we shall see in a moment.

Aladdin found all the Magician had told him to be true; he passed quickly but cautiously through the three halls, so as not even to touch the walls with his clothes, as the Magician had directed. He took the Lamp from the shelf, threw out the oil, and wrapped it in his arms. As he came back through the garden, his eyes were dazzled with the bright-coloured fruits on the trees, shining like glass. Many of these he plucked and put in his pockets, and then returned with the Lamp, and called upon his uncle to help him up the broken steps.

The Magician, in an anger, then slammed down the trap-door, and Aladdin was shut up fast enough. While crying bitterly, he by chance rubbed the ring, and a figure appeared before him, saying, “I am at your command, the Genius of the Ring; what do you desire?”

Mrs. Smith is feeling a little sad. This year, she’s going to be on her own for Christmas. Her daughter and grandchildren live too far away from her to come and stay.

Seated in her armchair, she closes her eyes and in her imagination, she sees her daughter again, with her golden, curly hair.

When she was very small, she used to tickle her ear and whisper: "I love you mummy!" to her. Those were such happy times, back then!

Mrs. Smith is feeling a little sad. This year, she’s going to be on her own for Christmas. Her daughter and grandchildren live too far away from her to come and stay.

Seated in her armchair, she closes her eyes and in her imagination, she sees her daughter again, with her golden, curly hair.

When she was very small, she used to tickle her ear and whisper: "I love you mummy!" to her. Those were such happy times, back then!

One day, when Aladdin was walking outside the town, an old man came up to him, and looking very hard in his face, said he was his father’s brother, and had long been away in a distant country, but that now he wished to help his nephew to get on. He then put a ring on the boy’s finger, telling him that no harm could happen to him so long as he wore it. Now, this strange man was no uncle of Aladdin, nor was he related at all to him; but he was a wicked magician, who wanted to make use of the lad’s services, as we shall see in a moment.

Aladdin found all the Magician had told him to be true; he passed quickly but cautiously through the three halls, so as not even to touch the walls with his clothes, as the Magician had directed. He took the Lamp from the shelf, threw out the oil, and wrapped it in his arms. As he came back through the garden, his eyes were dazzled with the bright-coloured fruits on the trees, shining like glass. Many of these he plucked and put in his pockets, and then returned with the Lamp, and called upon his uncle to help him up the broken steps.

The Magician, in an anger, then slammed down the trap-door, and Aladdin was shut up fast enough. While crying bitterly, he by chance rubbed the ring, and a figure appeared before him, saying, “I am at your command, the Genius of the Ring; what do you desire?”

Baum was born in Chittenango, New York in 1856 into a devout Methodist family. He had German , Scots-Irish , and English ancestry, and was the seventh of nine children of Cynthia Ann (née Stanton) and Benjamin Ward Baum, only five of whom survived into adulthood. [1] [2] "Lyman" was the name of his father's brother, but he always disliked it and preferred his middle name "Frank". [3]

Benjamin Baum succeeded in many businesses, including barrel-making, oil drilling in Pennsylvania, and real estate. L. Frank Baum grew up on his parents' expansive estate called Rose Lawn, which he fondly recalled as a sort of paradise. [4] Rose Lawn was located in Mattydale, New York . [5] Frank was a sickly, dreamy child, tutored at home with his siblings. From the age of 12, he spent two miserable years at Peekskill Military Academy but, after being severely disciplined for daydreaming, he had a possibly psychogenic heart attack and was allowed to return home. [6]

Baum started writing early in life, possibly prompted by his father buying him a cheap printing press . He had always been close to his younger brother Henry (Harry) Clay Baum, who helped in the production of The Rose Lawn Home Journal . The brothers published several issues of the journal, including advertisements from local businesses, which they would give to family and friends for free. [7] By the age of 17, Baum established a second amateur journal called The Stamp Collector , printed an 11-page pamphlet called Baum's Complete Stamp Dealers' Directory , and started a stamp dealership with friends. [8]

Munro was no young literary phenom—she did not achieve fame in her twenties with stories in The New Yorker . A mother of three children, she “learned to write in the slivers of time she had.” She published her first collection, Dance of the Happy Shades in 1968 at 37, an advanced age for writers today, so many of whom have several novels under their belts by their early thirties. Munro always meant to write a novel, many in fact, but “there was no way I could get that kind of time,” she said:

Whether Munro’s adherence to the short form has always been a matter of expediency, or whether it’s just what her stories need to be, hardly matters to readers who love her work. She discusses her “stumbling” on short fiction in the interview above from 1990 with Rex Murphy. For a detailed sketch of Munro’s early life, see her wonderful 2011 biographical essay “ Dear Life ” in The New Yorker . And for those less familiar with Munro’s exquisitely crafted narratives, we offer you below several selections of her work free online. Get to know this author who, The New York Times writes, “revolutionized the architecture of short stories.” Congratulations to Ms. Munro.

We're hoping to rely on our loyal readers rather than erratic ads. To support Open Culture's continued operation, please consider making a donation. We thank you!

Mrs. Smith is feeling a little sad. This year, she’s going to be on her own for Christmas. Her daughter and grandchildren live too far away from her to come and stay.

Seated in her armchair, she closes her eyes and in her imagination, she sees her daughter again, with her golden, curly hair.

When she was very small, she used to tickle her ear and whisper: "I love you mummy!" to her. Those were such happy times, back then!

One day, when Aladdin was walking outside the town, an old man came up to him, and looking very hard in his face, said he was his father’s brother, and had long been away in a distant country, but that now he wished to help his nephew to get on. He then put a ring on the boy’s finger, telling him that no harm could happen to him so long as he wore it. Now, this strange man was no uncle of Aladdin, nor was he related at all to him; but he was a wicked magician, who wanted to make use of the lad’s services, as we shall see in a moment.

Aladdin found all the Magician had told him to be true; he passed quickly but cautiously through the three halls, so as not even to touch the walls with his clothes, as the Magician had directed. He took the Lamp from the shelf, threw out the oil, and wrapped it in his arms. As he came back through the garden, his eyes were dazzled with the bright-coloured fruits on the trees, shining like glass. Many of these he plucked and put in his pockets, and then returned with the Lamp, and called upon his uncle to help him up the broken steps.

The Magician, in an anger, then slammed down the trap-door, and Aladdin was shut up fast enough. While crying bitterly, he by chance rubbed the ring, and a figure appeared before him, saying, “I am at your command, the Genius of the Ring; what do you desire?”

Baum was born in Chittenango, New York in 1856 into a devout Methodist family. He had German , Scots-Irish , and English ancestry, and was the seventh of nine children of Cynthia Ann (née Stanton) and Benjamin Ward Baum, only five of whom survived into adulthood. [1] [2] "Lyman" was the name of his father's brother, but he always disliked it and preferred his middle name "Frank". [3]

Benjamin Baum succeeded in many businesses, including barrel-making, oil drilling in Pennsylvania, and real estate. L. Frank Baum grew up on his parents' expansive estate called Rose Lawn, which he fondly recalled as a sort of paradise. [4] Rose Lawn was located in Mattydale, New York . [5] Frank was a sickly, dreamy child, tutored at home with his siblings. From the age of 12, he spent two miserable years at Peekskill Military Academy but, after being severely disciplined for daydreaming, he had a possibly psychogenic heart attack and was allowed to return home. [6]

Baum started writing early in life, possibly prompted by his father buying him a cheap printing press . He had always been close to his younger brother Henry (Harry) Clay Baum, who helped in the production of The Rose Lawn Home Journal . The brothers published several issues of the journal, including advertisements from local businesses, which they would give to family and friends for free. [7] By the age of 17, Baum established a second amateur journal called The Stamp Collector , printed an 11-page pamphlet called Baum's Complete Stamp Dealers' Directory , and started a stamp dealership with friends. [8]

Munro was no young literary phenom—she did not achieve fame in her twenties with stories in The New Yorker . A mother of three children, she “learned to write in the slivers of time she had.” She published her first collection, Dance of the Happy Shades in 1968 at 37, an advanced age for writers today, so many of whom have several novels under their belts by their early thirties. Munro always meant to write a novel, many in fact, but “there was no way I could get that kind of time,” she said:

Whether Munro’s adherence to the short form has always been a matter of expediency, or whether it’s just what her stories need to be, hardly matters to readers who love her work. She discusses her “stumbling” on short fiction in the interview above from 1990 with Rex Murphy. For a detailed sketch of Munro’s early life, see her wonderful 2011 biographical essay “ Dear Life ” in The New Yorker . And for those less familiar with Munro’s exquisitely crafted narratives, we offer you below several selections of her work free online. Get to know this author who, The New York Times writes, “revolutionized the architecture of short stories.” Congratulations to Ms. Munro.

We're hoping to rely on our loyal readers rather than erratic ads. To support Open Culture's continued operation, please consider making a donation. We thank you!

WONDERFUL STORIES  is a single by Aqours , as well as an insert song in Love Live! Sunshine!! Season 2 Episode 13 . It was released on January 17, 2018.

10 (More) Wonderful Short Stories to Read for Free Online.


19 Wonderful Short Books and Stories to Read Now - Vulture

Posted by 2018 article

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