Raw JSON
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"source_title": "The Bittern and the Hoopoe",
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"speech_safe_title": "The Bittern and the Hoopoe",
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"Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him. He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up."
],
"body_text": "Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him. He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up.",
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"Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him. He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up."
],
"clean_text": "Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him. He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up.",
"tts_chunks": [
"Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him.",
"He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up."
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"Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him. He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up."
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"speech_safe_text": "Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him. He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up.",
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"Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him.",
"He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up."
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{
"term": "Bittern",
"hint": "BIT-ern",
"reason": "A type of large marsh bird."
},
{
"term": "Hoopoe",
"hint": "HOO-poo",
"reason": "A bird known for its distinctive crest and call."
}
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"Where do you like best to feed your flocks, said a man to an old cowherd. Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor, or else it is no use. Why not, asked the man. Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there, answered the cowherd, that is the bittern. He was once a cowherd, and so was the hoopoe also, I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his flocks on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle on to high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin, and got no strength. When it was evening, and the cowherds wanted to drive their cows homewards, the bittern could not get his together again. They were too high-spirited, and ran away from him.",
"He called, come, cows, come, but it was of no use. They took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. Up, up, up, screamed he, but it was in vain, they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no flocks now to watch, the bittern cries, come, cows, come, and the hoopoe, up, up, up."
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"child_friendly_title": "The Bittern and the Hoopoe",
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"Where do you like best to feed your cows?\" asked a man to an old herder. \"Right here, sir,\" said the herder. \"Where the grass is just right—not too thick, not too thin.\" \"Why is that?\" asked the man. \"Do you hear that sad cry from the meadow?\" answered the herder. \"That is the bittern.\" \"He used to be a herder, too,\" the man said. \"And so did the hoopoe. I will tell you their story.\" \"The bittern let his cows eat on rich green fields with lots of flowers,\" the story goes. \"But his cows became wild and hard to control.\" \"The hoopoe drove his cows up to high, dry hills,\" the story goes. \"The wind blew the sand there, and his cows got very thin and weak.\" \"When evening came and the herders wanted to go home,\" the story goes. \"The bittern could not get his cows back together. They were too full of energy and ran away from him.",
"He called out, \"Come, cows, come!\" but it was no use. The cows did not listen. The hoopoe tried to get them up, but they were too tired. They lay down on the soft sand. \"Up, up, up!\" he cried, but they stayed still. It is sad when we do not know when to stop. Even today, the bittern cries, \"Come, cows, come,\" and the hoopoe cries, \"Up, up, up."
],
"child_friendly_text": "Where do you like best to feed your cows?\" asked a man to an old herder. \"Right here, sir,\" said the herder. \"Where the grass is just right—not too thick, not too thin.\" \"Why is that?\" asked the man. \"Do you hear that sad cry from the meadow?\" answered the herder. \"That is the bittern.\" \"He used to be a herder, too,\" the man said. \"And so did the hoopoe. I will tell you their story.\" \"The bittern let his cows eat on rich green fields with lots of flowers,\" the story goes. \"But his cows became wild and hard to control.\" \"The hoopoe drove his cows up to high, dry hills,\" the story goes. \"The wind blew the sand there, and his cows got very thin and weak.\" \"When evening came and the herders wanted to go home,\" the story goes. \"The bittern could not get his cows back together. They were too full of energy and ran away from him.\n\nHe called out, \"Come, cows, come!\" but it was no use. The cows did not listen. The hoopoe tried to get them up, but they were too tired. They lay down on the soft sand. \"Up, up, up!\" he cried, but they stayed still. It is sad when we do not know when to stop. Even today, the bittern cries, \"Come, cows, come,\" and the hoopoe cries, \"Up, up, up.",
"child_friendly_chunks": [
"Where do you like best to feed your cows?\" asked a man to an old herder. \"Right here, sir,\" said the herder. \"Where the grass is just right—not too thick, not too thin.\" \"Why is that?\" asked the man. \"Do you hear that sad cry from the meadow?\" answered the herder. \"That is the bittern.\" \"He used to be a herder, too,\" the man said. \"And so did the hoopoe. I will tell you their story.\" \"The bittern let his cows eat on rich green fields with lots of flowers,\" the story goes. \"But his cows became wild and hard to control.\" \"The hoopoe drove his cows up to high, dry hills,\" the story goes. \"The wind blew the sand there, and his cows got very thin and weak.\" \"When evening came and the herders wanted to go home,\" the story goes. \"The bittern could not get his cows back together.",
"They were too full of energy and ran away from him.",
"He called out, \"Come, cows, come!\" but it was no use. The cows did not listen. The hoopoe tried to get them up, but they were too tired. They lay down on the soft sand. \"Up, up, up!\" he cried, but they stayed still. It is sad when we do not know when to stop. Even today, the bittern cries, \"Come, cows, come,\" and the hoopoe cries, \"Up, up, up."
],
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