&&000 AMERICAN BOOK CO.  (1980)  7TH GRADE           AMR9807T.ASC
CHANGING VIEWS 
SOURCE: KUTZTOWN UNIVERSITY PENN.
XEROX BY lw SCAN EDIT BY DPH March 4, 1993

&&111



In this illusion, an egg
and a handkerchief change
places. The prestidigitator
shows the audience a basket
of eggs. She breaks one to
prove they are real. She places
an egg in an eggcup. She
covers both with a hat so
neither the egg nor the
eggcup can be seen.
Next, the prestidigitator
picks up a small, silk  
handkerchief by one corner. She
slowly gathers it into both of
her hands so that it gradually
Real eggs are in the  
basket, and a real egg is broken.
But the egg that is placed in
the eggcup is not real. It is
only half a wooden shell
painted to look like a real egg.
Only the upper half of the egg
can be seen. Stuffed inside
that half shell is a small silk
handkerchief just like the one
the prestidigitator rolls up in
her hands. The half shell fit.s
perfectly into the eggcup so
that its bottom cannot be seen.



=Tall =Boy stepped from behind the tree, squarely in his path.
Still the leader did not see him.
Raising the lance, =Tall =Boy quickly took aim and drew back,
ready to send it toward the leader of the =Long =Knives. He had
practiced with the lance before we came down the mesa, time
after time during all of one day, trying to get used to throwing it
with his left hand. With his right hand he had been the best of all
the warriors. It was with a lance that he had killed the brown
bear beyond =Rainbow =Mountain, a feat of great skill.
But now, as the iron-tipped weapon sped from his grasp,
it did not fly straight. It wobbled and then curved upward, struck
the branch of a tree, and fell broken at the feet of the soldier's
horse.
The horse suddenly stopped, tossing its head. Only then did
the soldier turn to see the broken lance Lying in front of him. He
looked around, searching for the enemy who had thrown it. He
looked at my father, at my uncle, at me. His eyes swept the small
open space where we stood, the women, the children, the old
people, all of us still too frightened to move or speak.



The ancient =Greeks enjoyed playing games with numbers,
and one of them was to add up the factors of particular  
integers. For instance, the factors of =12  not counting the number
itself  are =1, =2, =3, =4, and =6. Each of these numbers, but no
others,
will go evenly into =12. The sum of these factors is =16, which
is greater than the number =12 itself, so that =12 was called an
abundant number. The factors of =10, on the other hand, are
=1, =2, and =5, which add up to =8. This is less than the number
itself, so =10 is a deficient number.
But consider =6. Its factors are =1, =2, and =3, which add up to
the number itself. The =Greeks considered =6, therefore, a perfect
number. Throughout ancient and medieval times, only four
different perfect numbers were known. The second was =28,
the factors of which are =1, =2, =4, =7, and =14. The third and
fourth
perfect numbers are =496 and =8'128. The fifth perfect number



all loose and clumsy. His lean face was drawn and pinched, the
dark eyes sullen from overwork.
His mother sat darning a sock over an egg, rising now and
then to stir the pot of mush or turn the cooking rabbit. His father
lay in the cord bunk in the corner of the cabin, his injured leg
raised high beneath the blankets. His gaunt, unshaven face was
etched with the memory of the pain he had endured before the
settlement doctor had come to set the broken bone. Worry showed
in his black eyes turned up to the ceiling poles. Little food was
left for the family, a bit of jerked venison in the smokehouse, a
side of bacon, some beans, and meal. The =Stemlines were true
woodsies. They'd been eking along, waiting for the fur season. All
that they ate, spent, and wore came from their traps and rifles.

=Nathan went out for the final log, and the door creaked  
behind him on its crude hinges. The snow in the clearing was  
almost knee-deep. The forest surrounded it on all sides, broken
only where a road cut a black tunnel through the balsams toward
the settlement down to the south.

A sudden wind rose with the darkness. Nathan could hear
it far off and high, a growing roar above the forest. Abruptly it
snatched at the clearing, whirling the snow in eddies; the pine
tops bent in rhythm. Because his impulse was to hurry in and
close the door against it, =Nathan stood for several minutes, his
face straight into it letting the cold and darkness and emptiness
sink into him.
Indoors, he eased down his log and took off his sheepskin
coat and cap, baring his mop of brown hair. He sat down beside
=Viney, his eight-year-old sister, playing with the endless paper
people she cut out of the mail-order catalogue. The wind made
hollow bottle noises down the chimney, and the driven snow
made a dry shish-shish against the log walls.

Listen to that,  said =Nathan's mother.  The =Almanac was
right. We're due for another cold spell. A stormy new moon.
Keep a good fire, =Father =Richard says for the ninth. ~Colder.  
Expect snow, it says for the tenth. 

=Nathan's voice had a manly note.  It's getting colder all right,
but it won't snow. It's too darned cold to snow. A fellow'd soon
be stiff if he didn't keep working. 
 is the ax in?  his father asked.
Yes.  =Nathan fetched it and put a keen, shining edge on it
with the whetstone. Then he ran a greased rag through each of the
rifle barrels. He could feel his father's approving gaze on his
back as he sighted through each barrel into the firelight.  Bright
as a bugle,  he copied his father's invariablc comment.



=Robert =Woodward and =Carl =Bernstein became famous for their
investigative reporting of the   burglary and illegal bugging of
the =Democratic =National =Committee's headquarters in the
=Watergate   office building.
 There are only two similarities
between me and =Woodward, and
the rest is all different,  said =Carl
=Bernstein.  One thing is that  
neither of us ever takes no for an
answer. And the other is that we
usually make up our own   assignments. 
=Bob =Woodward got a late start
as a reporter. After graduating from
=Yale, he served in the =Navy. Then he
went to =Harvard =Law =School but
dropped out. At the age of  
=twentyseven, he got his first newspaper
job with the =Montgomery =County


frauds in =Medicaid, prescription
drugs, and meat pricing. He also
investigated health and housing
violations, narcotics smuggling, and
police corruption.
=Woodward's long hours paid
off. He got more front-page stories
with his by-line than any other =Post
reporter. He worked hard, followed
the advice of his editors, and got his
stories on the front page.
=Carl =Bernstein began his career
as a reporter at age sixteen. He  
carried copy and ran errands at the
=Washington,  =Star. By the age of
nineteen, he was a full-fledged  
reporter and was hired by the  
=Washington,  =Post.



Yes, this was true glory, this was what life was about, =Randy
thought, as he boarded the team bus. As it made its way down
the street, traveling the three blocks to the school, the band
marched in front, and cars followed behind, blowing their horns.
The team waved out the windows, yelling as only the victorious
can. =Randy leaned out his window into the night, watching the
parade behind him. Down the street, just above the trees, he
could see the lights of the field as they went out one by one,  
making a hole of darkness. He had met an old friend in a battle,
and he had won. Was the prize of glory worth the price he had paid?
The bus stopped in front of the school, where the band and
the fans had made a victory tunnel to the door of the locker room.
He ran down it, smiling as if it were the most special night in his
life. And yet, he could see nothing more than a pair of steel blue


The Pharaohs and Their Treasures

More than five =thousand years
ago, a great and wealthy civilization
grew up along the =Nile =River in
=Egypt. The ancient =Egyptians had a
strong belief in life after death.
Whenever a pharaoh  a king or
queen of =Egypt  died, the body was
embalmed and carefully wrapped
to preserve it. This mummy was
then put into a tomb with any
possessions it might need in the
next life. These possessions were
usually gold or gold covered and
encrusted with jewels. They  
included chariots, thrones, life-size
statues, couches, caskets of jewelry,
and preserved foods. The mummy
itself, which took =seventy days to
prepare, was usually bedecked with
jewels before it was placed in the
sarcophagus.

The Tombs of the Kings
The pharaohs were buried in
the remote =Valley of the =Tombs of
the =Kings. Because the treasures
buried with each pharaoh were so
valuable, the tombs had to be  
carefully hidden. They were usually dug
deep into rock faces, and the  
entrances were covered with large
rocks that were sealed. Dummy
entrances leading to dead ends
were even cut into the rock faces.
Despite these precautions and a
generally held belief that tomb
robbers



=Charlie, oh, =Charlie!  Her voice was so loud it seemed to
ram into the valley.
=Sara waited. She looked down at the forest, and everything
was so quiet it seemed to her that the whole valley, the whole
world was waiting with her.
 =Charlie, hey, =Charlie!  =Joe shouted.
 =Charleeeeee!  She made the sound of it last a long time.
 Can you hear =meeeeee? 
With her eyes she followed the trail she knew he must have
taken, the house, the =Akers' vacant lot, the old pasture, the
forest.
The forest that seemed powerful enough to engulf a whole valley,
she thought with a sinking feeling, could certainly swallow up a
young boy.
 =Charlie! =Charlie! =Charlie!  There was a waver in the last
syllable that betrayed how near she was to tears. She looked down
at the indian slipper she was still holding.
 =Charlie, oh, =Charlie.  =She waited. There was not a sound
anywhere.  =Charlie, where are you? 
 Hey, =Charlie!  =Joe shouted.
They waited in the same dense silence. A cloud passed in
front of the sun and a breeze began to blow through the trees.
Then there was silence again.
 =Charlie, =Charlie, =Charlie, =Charlie, =Charlie. 
She paused, listened, then bent abruptly and put =Charlie's
slipper to her eyes. She waited for the hot tears that had come so
often this summer, the tears that had seemed so close only a  
moment before. Now her eyes remained dry.



she had to stop and wait for them to catch up with her, lest they
lose their way. Their progress was slow, uncertain. Their feet got
tangled in every vine. They tripped over fallen logs, and once one
of them fell flat on his face. They jumped, startled, at the most
ordinary sounds: the murmur of the wind in the branches of the
trees, the twittering of a bird. They kept turning around, looking
back.
They had not gone more than a mile when she became aware
that they had stopped. She turned and went back to them. She
could hear them whispering. One of them called out,  =Hat! 
What's the matter? We haven't got time to keep stopping
like this. 
We're going back. 
No,  she said firmly.  We've got a good start. If we move
fast and move quiet,  
Then all three spoke at once. They said the same thing, over
and over, in frantic hurried whispers, all talking at once:
They told her that they had changed their minds. Running
away was too dangerous. Someone would surely see them and
recognize them. By morning the master would know they had
took off.  Then the handbills advertising them would be posted
all over =Dorchester =County. The patrollers would search for them.
Even if they were lucky enough to elude the patrol, they could
not possibly hide from the bloodhounds. The hounds would be
baying after them, snufflng through the swamps and the  
underbrush, zigzagging through the deepest woods. The bloodhounds
would surely find them. And everyone knew what happened to a
runaway who was caught and brought back alive.
She argued with them. Didn't they know that if they went
back they would be sold, if not tomorrow, then the next day, or
the next? Sold =South. They had seen the chain gangs. Was that
what they wanted? Were they going to be slaves for the rest of
their lives? Didn't freedom mean anything to them?
 You're afraid,  she said, trying to shame them into action.
 Go on back. I'm going =North alone. 
Instead of being ashamed, they became angry. They shouted
at her, telling her that she was a fool and they would make her go
back to the plantation with them. Suddenly they surrounded her,
three men, her own brothers, jostling her, pushing her along,  
pinioning her arms behind her. She fought against them, wasting her
strength, exhausting herself in a furious struggle.
She was no match for three strong men. She said, panting,
All right. We'll go back. I'll go with you. 
She led the way, moving slowly. Her thoughts were bitter.
&&000  GINN & CO.  (1982)    7TH GRADE                GIN9827T.ASC
GREEN SALAD SEASONS  LEVEL 14
Source: Kutztown University (Pa.)  xerox by LW scan edit by DPH
March 5, 1993

&&111



With the closing of the door, =Ellen left one of her lives behind
and entered upon the other. She moved slowly down the long
flight of stairs that flanked the restaurant, and turned left
toward the hotel.
 No use eating dinner there,  =Mama had protested.  You
can eat at home and go later. 

     We are supposed to have dinner at the hotel, =Mama.  =Ellen
spoke the word  =Mama  in the =Cantonese1 way, as if it were
two words, with a quick, light stress on the second half.
 When you are =American, you do as =Americans do. 
No harm being =Chinese,  =Mama said.
Mama wasn't going to the high school with her tonight.



The boy felt the return of a terrible despair. In the still silence
of his mind he cursed the cowardly hammerhead with  
monotonous repetition. His words went through his mind and passed
without leaving a trace of meaning or understanding. If only
the hammerhead had stayed to fight, he thought.
He forced his arms and legs to start moving. He kicked
himself wearily to the surface. He drew a sobbing breath and
went under again, and he wondered what kind of a shark it
was that could frighten a hammerhead off with a single blow
from its pointed snout. He searched for it, twisting and turning
frantically as he scanned the water. He did not see it anywhere,
and he began to wonder if it might not have followed the
hammerhead out to sea in pursuit. He began to hope again.
Just then the great fish swam up from below him.
He recoiled in terror, but in that instant he saw clearly for the
first time the protruding beak with the undershot jaw which
seemed to set the mouth in a fixed smile of secret satisfaction.
Porpoise, he thought, and his heart gave a great shout of joy.
He had seen porpoises before, far out to sea, and once when
he had been fishing with his father he had seen a great school
of them which looked a mile long and a mile wide in the blue
sea. And as he watched the black shapes coming up out of the
water to breathe and then sliding back into the sea together in a
slow smooth roll he was glad for once that the school was far
away, because it did not seem right to him that any of them
should die. In all the times they had caught the black-backed
fishes he had never really appreciated their swift grace and
beauty till then, and it saddened him a little to think that such
a beautiful fish should lose its freedom and then die with a
harpoon in its heart.
The big fish swam past the boy just below the surface of the
water and then it tumed and swam back towards him. He had
never heard any fishers tell of a porpoise harming a person, but
he eyed it warily just the same. It was a big fish, and the fear of
the shark was still in him, and he feared it because of its great
size which was equal to that of the shark.
     He went up for a breath of air, and the fish went up with
him. He saw a fine spray of water shoot from the crescent




now that we didn't find someone who could do it. He was cleaner
around the house than any cat we ever had and he
never, even in his infancy, made a single error.
Only once that we know of did he ever make a smell, and we
couldn't blame him for that; in fact, =Ralph applauded him. We
had at that time a cat named =Jane. She and =Rollo had always
hated each other, for no good reason that we could ever see, for
they always left each other strictly alone. One evening I had
made a chocolate malted milk for =Rollo, that was his favorite
food, and set it out. =Rollo was just starting in on it when =Jane
appeared around the corner. =Rollo stamped violently but =Jane
continued to approach and sniffed at the saucer. She wasn't
going to touch the contents, I'm sure; she was just curious. But
he had warned her and she had paid no attention. Faster than
the eye could follow, he turned end for end, arched his tail over
his back, and, =whisht! smack into =Jane's face at a range of less
than a foot. She rolled right over backward, scrambled to her
feet, and went off like a bullet. She never came back. Presently
she made her home at the nearest lumber camp.
We had been afraid that after the pups and the skunk
reached the age where they could eat solid food, =Rollo would
starve unless we fed him separately. He could never hold his
own, we thought, against that gang of ruffians. We might as
well have spared ourselves the worry. He was quite capable of
looking out for himself. When the crush around the pan of
puppy biscuit and milk became too great, he would wade right
into the middle of the dish, forcing the pups to eat along the
edges while he stuffed himself practically into a coma.
=Rollo became really a terribly spoiled brat before the summer
had advanced very far. We gave him too much attention, and
so did the dogs, and so did the tourists who kept on coming in
increasing numbers as the news of our pet skunk spread. I
never thought to have my social career sponsored by a skunk,
but that is what it amounted to. I met more new people during
that summer than I ever have before or since in the same length
of time. Perfect strangers, they'd come drifting into the yard,
say  Good morning,  and then come to the point:  We heard
you've got a pet skunk. 



stake him at night. I present you with this pair of hobbles. 
The buyer rode on north, ahead of the wagon train, leaving
the horse he had been riding to be delivered at the =Rio =Grande.
It was known that he carried five =hundred silver pesos,
wrapped in paper, in his saddlebags.
Over the rain-soaked ground the wagons made slow  
progress. While the train was resting next day, the cow-buyer
dragged into camp afoot. He had been out all night and was
famished. After reviving on coffee, frijoles and tortillas, he
made explanation.
 Yesterday about dark,  he said,  I rode up to the camp of a
goatherder who was cooking supper in front of a well-thatched
shed. He gladly gave me permission to spend the night. Like a
fool, I started to dismount without taking down the rope as you
advised. Just as my right foot was out of the stirrup, a dog
rushed up barking. =Alacran reared back, throwing me to the
ground, and ran off, with saddle and the five =hundred pesos.
The last I saw of him he was coming down the road in this
direction. I have hunted for him all morning without seeing
him or even his tracks. =Don =Miguel, will you help me find
him? 
 I will help you hunt for him,  replied =Don =Miguel,  but I
cannot assure you of success. Was the saddle cinched tight or
loose? 
 Tight,  the cow-buyer replied.  There is no danger of his
getting rid of it. 
 It is not that,  observed =Don =Miguel.  If the saddle is tight,
the horse will not travel far without stopping. How far from
here did =Alacran break away? 
 About three leagues. 
The two men saddled horses and rode forth immediately.
The cow-buyer wanted to search the country on both sides of
the road. Don =Miguel said,  If I am to help you, you must
follow me. We will ride up the road until we strike =Alacran's
tracks turning out of it. Then I will trail him. 
They found where =Alacran had turned out of the road not a
great dislance south of the goatherder's camp.
 Was he sweaty when he broke away?  =Don =Miguel asked.



because if you don't prove your accusation, and I know you can't,
you will go to jail. Those pumpkins were mine; I raised them in my
garden, like all the others I brought to =Cadiz this year, and no
one could prove I didn't.
Now you shall see!  repeated =tio =Buscabeatas, as he finished
untying the sack.
A multitude of green stems rolled on the ground, while the old
gardener~ seated on his heels, addressed the gathering as follows:
 Friends, have you never paid taxes? And haven't you seen that
green book the tax-collector has, from which he cuts receipts,
always leaving a stub in the book so he can prove afterwards
whether the receipt is counterfeit or not? 
 What you are talking about is called the stub-book,  said the
 inspector gravely.
 Well, that's what I have here: the stub-book of my garden; that
is, the stems to which these pumpkins were attached before this
thief stole them from me. Look here: this stem belongs to this
pumpkin. No one can deny it  this other one now you're
getting the idea   belongs to this one    this thicker one   
belongs to that one     exactly! And this one to that one    that
one, to that one over there .  
  And as he spoke, he fitted the stems to the pumpkins, one by
one. The spectators were amazed to see that the stems really fitted
the pumpkins exactly, and delighted by such strange proof, they
all began to help tio =Buscabeatas, exclaiming:
  He's right! He's right! No doubt about it. Look: this one
belongs here   . That one goes there   .That one there belongs
to this one . This one goes there   . 
 The laughter of the men mingled with the catcalls of the
children, the insults of the women, the joyous and triumphant
tears of the old gardener and the shoves the police officers were
giving the convicted thief.
Needless to say, besides going to jail, the thief was compelled to
return to the vendor the fifteen =duros he had received, and the
latter handed the money to =tio =Buscabeatas, who left for =Rota
very
pleased with himself, saying, on his way home:
 How beautiful they looked in the market! I should have
ought back one to eat tonight and kept the seeds. 



 I left and went back  to =Hawk =Sister's house. =Mink arrived
soon after.  Have they truly recovered?  I asked.
 It seems so,  he answered grimly.  But I don't like it. I have
not heard of anyone recovering so fast, and without scars. 
 Did you ask them not to come back? 
 I tried. But =Bender said it would be better for them to return
to their homes than to freeze in the hut. 
 They would not freeze. 
 I know. But the woman is his niece. Bender is like a blind
man. 
 By the next morning, only two more in the town had taken
the fever. We began to feel hopeful. After breakfast I took my
two children and went across the plaza to visit my mother.
=Four =Paws, her brother, was one of those in the sick huts, but
we did not speak of him. We talked quietly together about
spring, about the fish that would be running and how good
they would taste. We sat together, the two of us, and dreamed
of spring, as if none of our friends and relatives were dying in
the huts. I cannot explain why we were not grieving. Even my
grief for =Trotting =Wolf was numbed by the strangeness of those
days.
In the afternoon, the children and I walked back toward
=Hawk =Sister's house, going slowly so that =Little =Cougar could
keep up. We heard a disturbance at the edge of the plaza, and
as we drew near, =Traveler ran ahead to see. He would not hear
me when I called him back. I picked up =Little =Cougar and
followed, feeling the anger that was in the air. =Traveler pushed
in through the crowd, as a child can do, but as I tried to go after
him, I met a wall of shoulders.
 What is it?  I asked a man in front of me.  What is
 happening? 
 =Red =Dog,  hissed the man.
 What has he done? 
 Witch. All three of them, witches. They came back to burn
us.  
 But they were well. 
 Trickery,  the man spat.  Today their skin is scorched red,
burned by the =Sun! 
 Witch!  someone yelled, and the crowd moved, pushing
forward.
I called =Traveler, but I knew he could not hear me. I pushed



Tomorrow you will go out into the world, the great world of
achievement. 
Here you have learned the theories of life,  continued the
=Headmaster,  but after all, life is not a matter of theories. Life
is
a matter of facts. It calls on the young and the old alike to face
these facts, even though they are hard and sometimes  
unpleasant. Your problem, for example, is to slay dragons. 
 They say that those dragons down in the south wood are
five =hundred feet long,  ventured =Gawaine timidly.
 Stuff and nonsense!  said the =Headmaster.  My assistant
saw one last week from the top of =Arthur's =Hill. The dragon
was sunning itself down in the valley. He didn't have an
opportunity to look at it very long because he felt it was his
duty to hurry back to make a report to me. He said the
to monster, or shall I say, the big lizard?, wasn't an inch over
two =hundred feet. But the size has nothing at all to do with it.
You'll find the big ones even easier than the little ones. They're
far slower on their feet and less aggressive I'm told. Besides,
before you go I'm going to equip you in such a fashion that you
need have no fear of all the dragons in the world. 
 I'd like an enchanted cap,  said =Gawaine.
 What's that?  asked the =Headmaster testily.
 A cap to make me disappear,  explained =Gawaine.
The =Headmaster laughed indulgently.  You mustn't believe



slab of marble, along with the plant. There was sand there.
He dropped the shrub, slipped to his knees, and plunged his
fingers into the sand. Loose sand trickled through them. He
reached deep, using all his strength to force his arm and hand
down, sand, nothing but sand.
He stood up, and frantically tore up another shrub. It also
came out easily, bringing with it a slab of marble. It had no
roots, and where it had been was sand.
With a kind of mindless disbelief, =Jenner rushed over to a
fruit tree, and shoved at it. There was a momentary resistance,
and then the marble on which it stood split, and lifted slowly
into the air. The tree fell over with a swish and a crackle of its
dry branches, and leaves broke and crumbled in a =thousand
pieces. Underneath it was sand.



dinghy later, just here washed up, its oars stowed neat and dry
inside . But he was not washed up, though they searchcd the shore
for days. He was swallowed, they said at last, swallowed like the
=Amaryllis.
But he was not quite swallowed. Listen. That is the rest of the
meaning of the sea. You lie here so unthinking, have you forgotten
that the surface of the earth is three-fourths water? Those gulls
out there, they know it better than you. The sea can swallow ships,
and it can spit out whales upon the beach like watermelon seeds. It
will take
what it wants, and it will keep what it has taken, and you may not
take
away from it what it does not wish to give. Listen. No matter how
old
you grow or how important on the land, no matter how powerful or
beautiful or rich, the sea does not care a straw for you. That
frail grip
you keep on the wisp of life that holds you upright, the sea can
turn it
loose in an instant. For life came first from the sea and can be
taken
back. Listen. Your bodies, they are three-fourths water, like the
surface
of the earth. Ashes to ashes, the saying goes, and maybe so, but
the
ashes float on the water of you, like that purple featherweed
floating on
the tide. Even your tears are salt.
You do not listen. What if I told you that I was that carver of
figureheads, the one they said was swallowed by the sea? The breeze
in
your ears, it carries my voice. But you only stretch on your fluffy
towels and talk of present things, taking the sea for granted. So
much
the worse for you, then. My two =Genevas listened, long ago, and
understood.

 Well, =Mother,  said the big man uneasily, turning his hat
round and round in his hands.
 Well, =George,  the old woman returned. Her voice was
strong and brisk, but, for him, a little critical. She looked up at
him from her wing chair by the sunny window and saw, her
son, yes, but also a stranger, well into middle age, tall but
stooped, with the pale skin and scratchy-looking clothes of an
inland man of business. And she saw in him also what he had
been: a happy, wild-haired boy running barefoot on the beach.
The two were one and the same, no doubt, but she loved the
man because she had loved the boy. For her, the boy had been
much easier to love.
&&000 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN  (1983)  7TH GRADE       HM19837T.ASC
EMBLEMS by William K. Durr et al  Level N
Source: SUNY Cortland--Xerox, scanned and edited by DPH
12-29-92

&&111


Old =Asphalion chuckled.  Hear to
that girl of yours, if you can call her a
girl at all when you've brought her up
like a boy! Spin she can, but she can't
even do that woman fashion. Has to
twirl her thread to a comical old song
the sailors sing. She s no girl. How do
you expect to find a husband for her? 
 I don't want a husband,  said
=Hydna, laughing.  I'm going to be  
=Father's partner. 
 =And a good little partner too,  
=Asphalion,  said =Scyllias.  If the gods
had left me either my wife or my sons,
it would have been different. Her
mother would have wished her
brought up like other girls, I suppose,
and I couldn't have said her nay. But
she died and then my three boys the
same year, such a year! I couldn't
bear to live any longer in the place
where it all happened. I left =Scione
=skee-ohn'ee  and came here with my
girl. But from the day her last brother
went, she declared she was going to
take his place. She couldn't do that, 
nobody could, but she's been as much
son as daughter to me ever since.
She's happier that way, and so am I. 
Surely you didn't mind my joking
about her, =Scyllias; you know I'm  
almost as fond of her as I am of my own
=Chloekloi . She's a good child and a
sheer wonder in the water. She'll be as
good a swimmer as you before long. 
 =She's as good a swimmer now and
diver, too, as f,ar as her strength allows.
There's no other difference,  said
=Scyllias.  She has the skill. 
=Hydna flushed with pleasure. Her
father did not often praise her, and he
had never given her such praise as that,
for he was known far and near as
=Scyllias of =Scione; and in all the lands of
=Greece there was no such famous diver
and swimmer as he.
The purple shadows swept swiftly
from the west. =Hydna stepped indoors
to leave her distaff, then leaped lightly
down the rocks to meet =Chloe,  
=Asphalion's thirteen-year-old grandchild,
who was coming along the beach  
carrying a shrimp net in one hand and a  
basket in the other. She flourished the
shrimp net and quickened her pace as
=Hydna strolled to meet her.
The two girls, talking while they
walked along, had been occupied with
each other rather than anything less
close at hand; but when they climbed
to the flat rock before the cottages,
they saw that both =Scyllias and  
=Asphalion were gazing intently out to sea.
They also looked.
 Oh!  cried =Chloe.  What is it?
I never saw so many ships! 



Very many and coming fast, but I
think they are not all in sight,  said
=Scyllias.  No, not yet. I wish there
were no more. 
A fair breeze and from the right
quarter,  said =Asphalion.  We shall
soon know. 
Soon now,  said =Scyllias through
tightened lips.
 Is it the =Persians?  asked =Hydna,
but she knew even before =Scyllias
answered her.



sat against the hill and I placed  
=Spider in his lap. Using belt buckles
and safety straps from the  
wheelchairs, I tied the two together.
=Dominic tried a few rows up the
hill. It worked. =Spider's being
strapped to =Dominic's stomach gave
both of them. the opportunity to
look down the hill as they inched
upward. It also freed =Dominic's legs
and arms for the hingelike  
movement and balance necessary to
squeeze up the hill and not slip back.
=Benny was next in line. He wanted
to try it by himself. In a trial effort
he worked his way up the hill and
right out of his pants. At his  
insistence we tied underneath him a  
pillow from one of the chairs. He was
ready. With his strength he just
might be able to drag his body the
distance. =Martin and =Aaron were
next. =Martin's confidence helped
=Aaron. In a sitting position, =Martin
shaped his body and legs into a lap. I
gently placed =Aaron against =Martin
and bound them together. =Thomas
and I were at the end of the ladder. I
sat on the ground in front of
=Thomas and pulled him out of the
chair and onto me. We twisted and
rotated our bodies until both of us



in clean, freshly ironed, cotton
work clothes. Like all our country
people he has perfect manners, and,
of course, so has my father and so
have his friends. They made =Martin
welcome, and my father sat down to
play his first game with him. To my
amazement, he defeated my father
in the first game, and the second one
was a struggle, finally ending in a
stalemate. My father was delightcd,
and the others crowded round to
congratulate =Martin.
 Young man, you are a chess  
genius, I think!  cried =Don =Mario, the
mail carrier.  Join us every  
=Saturday! Keep our game keen! 
After he had left, my father and
his friends talked excitedly about
=Martin. They had in mind to train
and polish him and enter him that
spring in the state championship
chess games.
The next day there was a piece in
the paper about a treasure having
been found by workers when tearing
down an old house in =Cclaya   =sehlah'yah . 
Under the flagstones of the
patio they came upon a strongbox
filled with silver coins. My father
read the item aloud.
My friend =Luisa, in =Guadalajara
=gwah-dah-lah-hah'rah , had a
friend who found a buried treasure
in the kitchcn of the house they
bought,  contributed =Tia =Lola.
 Well, it happens often and it is
reasonable,  explained =Papacito.
=Mexico has gone through violent
times, and insurgent and  
revolutionary armies have swept in and out of
so many towns that the people often
buried or hid their valuables so as
not to have to surrender them. And
then, of course, sometimes they
couldn't get back to retrieve them.
Or sometimes they died, and nobody
ever knew what had happened to
their money. 
I was thinking this over as I
walked to school, and in the first  
recess =Serafin sought me out, full of
excitement.
 Did you read about the treasure
in =Celaya?  he asked me, breathless.
 Let's go treasure hunting there!
There must be quantities of old
houses where people have buried
money !  
Well, yes. My father said there
was every likelihood. But how?
Which houses? And how would you
start? Nobody would even let you
begin!  
Why couldn't =Martin tell us
where? He works with a wrecking



crew, knocking down old houses,
doesn't he? He could sneak us into
one some night! 
 =Tia =Lola wouldn't let me go. 
 Don't tell her!  counseled  
=Serafin impatiently.
 Well .
It was the deceit that unnerved
me. But the call of adventure was
strong, and, I'll confess it, I longed to
go treasure hunting. I resolved to
speak to =Martin.



hogs move in drifts, a gam is a group of whales, and a sloth is a
company of bears.
At one time, the =English language had over a =hundred of these
special words for different animal groups. Now, whether  
anybody actually knew and used all of these words is highly  
questionable, but they did exist and some of them are still with
us. There
are, however, many gaps. People haven't given special names to
every animal community. It might be fun to suggest words that
would be good to use to refer to these groups. For instance, you
could have a slink of weasels, a slither of snakes, a cheer of  
chipmunks, a waddle of ducks, or a shout of crows. Get together
with
some of your classmates and try naming the following groups:
worms, fleas, butterflies, panthers, and mice. Feel free to be as
creative in your choice of words as you wish. When you are  
finished, try out your suggestions on your classmates. Who knows?
If the names catch on, they might become a part of the language.



dark and grim. He'd known they'd
be there, of course, but it was  
different, seeing them. It made him feel
peculiar to see their guns pointed at
the town. He'd known there was
trouble and dispute in =Boston, but
the knowledge had passed over him
like rain and hail. Now he was in
the middle of it, and it smelt like
earthquake weather. He couldn't
make head or tail of it, but he
wanted to be home.
All the same, he'd come to get his
tooth fixed, and being from =New
=England, he was bound to do it. But
first he stopped at a tavern for a bite
and a supper, for it was long past his
dinnertime. And there, it seemed to
him, things got even more curious.
 Nice weather we're having, these
days,  =Lige said in a friendly way to
the tavern keeper.
 It's bitter weather for =Boston, 
said the tavern keeper in an  
unfriendly voice, and a sort of low
growl went up from the crowd at the
back of the room as every eye fixed
on =Lige.
Well, that didn't help the  
toothache any, but being a sociable  
person, =Lige kept on.  May be, for
=Boston,  he said,  but out in the
country we'd call it good planting
weather. 

The tavern keeper stared at him
hard.  I guess I was mistaken in
you,  he said.  It is good planting
weather, for some kinds of trees. 
And what kind of trees were you
thinking of?  said a sharp-faced man
at =Lige's left, who squeezed his
shoulder.
 There's trees and trees, you
know,  said a red-faced man at
=Lige's right, who gave him a dig in
the ribs.
 Well, now that you ask me,  
said =Lige, but he couldn't even finish
before the red-faced man dug him
hard in the ribs again.
 The liberty tree!  said the  
redfaced man.  And may it soon be  
watered in the blood of tyrants! 
 The royal oak of =England!  said
the sharp-faced man.  And =Gd
save =King =George and loyalty! 
Well, with that it seemed to =Lige
=Butterwick as if the whole tavern
kind of rise up at him. He was kicked
and pummeled and mauled and
thrown into a corner and yanked out
of it again, with the red-faced man
and the sharp-faced man and all the
rest of them dancing quadrilles over
him. Finally, he found himself out
in the street with half his coat gone



galley west.
 Well,  said =Lige to himself,  I  
always heard city folks were crazy.
But politics must be getting serious
in these colonies when they start
fighting about trees! 
Then he saw the sharp-faced man
was beside him, trying to shake his
hand. He noticed with some  
pleasure that the sharp-faced man had the
beginnings of a beautiful black eye.
Nobly done, friend,  said the



with a painting of a warrior riding a horse. He taught me a real
=Sioux chant to sing while I beat the drum with a leather-covered
stick that had a feather on the end. That really made an
impression. We never showed our friends =Grandpa's picture. Not
that we were ashamed of him, but because we knew that the glamorous
tales we told didn't go with the real thing. Our friends would have
laughed at the picture, because =Grandpa wasn't tall and stately
like =TV Indians. His
hair wasn't in braids but hung in stringy, gray strands on his
neck, and
he was old. He was our great-grandfather, and he didn't live in a
tepee
but all by himself in a part log, part tarpaper shack on the
=Rosebud
=Reservation in =South =Dakota. So when =Grandpa came to visit us,
I was so ashamed and embarrassed I could've died.
There are a lot of yippy poodles and other fancy little dogs in our
neighborhood, but they usually barked singly at passers-by from the
safety of their own yards. Now it sounded as if a whole pack of
mutts was barking together in one place.
I got up and walked to the curb to see what the commotion was.
About a block away, I saw a crowd of little kids yelling, with the
dogs yipping and growling around someone who was walking down the
middle of the street.
I watched the group as it slowly came closer and saw that in the  
center of the strange procession was a man wearing a tall black
hat. He'd
pause now and then to peer at something in his hand and then at the
houses on either side of the street. I felt cold and hot at the
same time
as I recognized the man.  Oh, no!  I whispered.  It's =Grandpa! 
I stood on the curb, unable to move, even though I wanted to run
and hide. Then I got mad when I saw how the yippy dogs were  
growling and nipping at the old man's baggy pant legs and how
wearily he poked them away with his cane.  Stupid mutts,  I said as
I ran to rescue =Grandpa.
When I kicked and hollered at the dogs to get away, they put their
tails between their legs and scattered. The kids ran to the curb,
where they watched me and the old man.
=Grandpa,  I said, and I felt pretty dumb when my voice cracked. I
reached for his beat-up old tin suitcase, which was tied shut with
a rope. But he set it down right in the street and shook my hand.
 =Hau, =Takoza,   He greeted me formally in =Sioux.



Deciding on Topics for Groups of Paragraphs
When reading informational material, you will sometimes find a
topic that is presented in a group of paragraphs rather than in
just
one. The same steps you used to decide on the topic of a single  
paragraph can be used to identify the topic of a group of
paragraphs.
Regardless of how many paragraphs are used to present  
information, the topic is always the one thing that all or most of
the  
sentences are about.
Before you decide on the topic of a group of paragraphs, you
should first identify the topic of each individual paragraph. Read
the following article and decide on a topic for each paragraph:
Private citizens as well as governmental agencies are  
concerned about the effects of air pollution on our health and
economy. Pollution creates serious health risks to people
with heart and lung problems. It also causes damage to crops
and livestock, which results in higher food prices. Even  
various metals used in constructing buildings wear out more
quickly because of air pollution.
The problem of air pollution is greater in cities because of
the large numbers of people living closely together.  
Transportation vehicles are a leading source of air pollution,  
particularly when exhaust fumes mix with industrial waste. With
over =110 =million motor vehicles in the =United =States alone, the
problem is definitely a serious one. Other sources of air  
pollution are power plants, industrial and home furnaces,  
chemicals, and fires.
What can be done to fight air pollution? Devices can be  
installed in motor vehicles to control the amount of pollutants
they give off. Fuels can be refined, or made purer. Factories
can install equipment that will permit fewer pollutants to  
escape into the air. These are just a few of the measures that
can be taken to restore healthy air to our environm,ent. Laws
designed to control air pollution have been passed, but it will
take many years to correct the damage that already has been
done.

You can see that all three paragraphs are related, yet each one
contributes different information to the article. The first  


In =1853, =Samuel =Burgess was appointed keeper of the lighthouse
onMatinicus =Rock, off the coast of =Rockland, =Maine, and the
family went to live on this barren and lonely station. During the
stormy winter of =1856, the supply boat was unable to deliver food
and other necessities. When there was a lull in the bad weather, Mr
=Burgess set sail for =Rockland to renew their supplies. As his
wife was not well, he depended upon his   oldest daughter,
fourteen-year-old =Abbie, to keep the oil lamps of the   lighthouse
burning to save ships from disaster on the rock-bound coast.
The girls stamped about in their snowshoes for over an hour,  
pelting one another with snowballs and playing with the hens. It
was good to hear them laughing again, =Abbie thought, as she
finished her morning chores.
While they were eating dinner, the kitchen became so dark that
=Abbie got up to light the lamp. As she did so, a gust of wind
whined down the chimney, followed by a blast that set the shutters
slamming furiously against the house.
She ran to the window. The clear sky had deepened to an ominous
dark gray. Gulls screamed wildly as if bewitched by the wind. From
the way the flag on the pole was blowing, she knew the wind had
veered to the northeast.
=Esther and =Mahala began to cry, and Mrs =Burgess called out from
the parlor,  =Abigail, your father's caught in this storm! 
 Now, =Mother, he's halfway to the mainland by now. And it may
be just a gale that will blow right out to sea. 
=Esther and =Mahala rushed in to them.  What will we do, =Abbie? 
=Esther asked worriedly.
 We'll do exactly what =Father would if he were here. We'll batten
things down.  She directed =Lydia and =Esther to latch all the
shutters, and =Mahala was sent to bring in the flag.
=Abbie closed up the sheds and moved the hen coop to a more  
protected spot. After all was done, her sisters sat around the
fire,   complaining about being alone on the =Rock without their
father.
 Now =Father can't bring back the supplies until the storm's over, 
=Lydia whined.  And that might be several days! 
We won't dwell on that,  =Abbie told her.  We'll take each day as
it comes. I'd best light the lamps early today. It's so dark. 
With each hour the wind grew more frenzied, until it was battering
the =Rock unmercifully. Huge breakers flung themselves at the
ledges.



On =May =27, =1851, the young =Ohio
town of =Akron was bursting with  
excitement. Throughout the day  
carriages and wagons rolled down its
unpaved streets, bringing delegates to
the second =Annual =Convention of the
=Women of =Ohio. At the corner of
=Market and =Main =Streets many =Akron
farmers and artisans were gathered,
awaiting the arrival of that strange new
species of =American, the women who
asked for equality with men. What
sort of costume would the feminists be
wearing? Would it be the  =Turkish
costume  introduced last year in the
=East by Mrs =Bloomer? =And what sort
of women would they be? Would  
decent married women leave their  
families to go to a two-day gathering?
=American in the years =1830'1860 was
stirring with social reform movements.
Women joined in these reform  
movements. But women quickly found that
if they wished to be reformers, they
first had to establish the right of their
sex to speak in public at all. =American,
including most women of the day,  
believed that a woman's place was in the
home and that no  lady  exposed  
herself to public life. She was idealized as
a lovely, delicate creature who lacked
the intelligence and capability to enter
the political and business worlds of
men. Those women who refused to
accept this inferior role in society  
decided that one more reform movement
was needed, to obtain equal rights for
women.
When the townsfolk, gathered on
=Akron's wooden sidewalks, saw the
delegates, they were sorely  
disappointed that no one was wearing the
sensational =Bloomer =Girl costume.
Practically all the delegates were  
dignified housewives and mothers of
large families. A few in the crowd  
recognized Mrs =Frances =Gage. She was
=Aunt =Fanny, a popular writer for  
children and farm women, and the mother
of eight children. Temperance, as well
as women's rights and the abolition of
slavery, stirred her to action. Later, a
most determined-looking woman



hole in my pants or the sweat spots
that faintly shadowed my arms? I
turned my back and helped a sailor
roll down the sails.
The center of the city was markcd
by the courthouse dome and the
high steeple of =Christ =Church. Two
wide streets, =High =Street and =Market
=Street, ran on either side of the
courthouse like canals. The length
of =Market =Street was crossed by  
covered sheds, under which the trading
took place. My captain told me how
I could recognize the =Quakers, and
the following morning I went there
first thing to sell my sugar and rum.
I did find them to be perfectly  
honest, it was the first time I traded
without tensing watching,  
preparing for an ugly argument. After
making a very good profit, I walked
through the city. I was forever  
entering mazes of narrow cobblestone
streets with slate sidewalks, which
eventually emptied into sunlit
squares. There were two or three
places in town ,  in front of the
statehouse and on the corner of the
=Merchant's =Exchange ,  where
people gathered all day and evening.
They talked mainly of politics:  
colonial laws, taxes, =King =George of  
=England. These =Philadelphians seemed
earnest and intellectual people.
One thing l overheard that was
not about politics was talk of a wise
woman who was known for her
power to predict things. A man in
front of the =Exchange was telling
such an extraordinary story about
her that the crowded listeners kept
interrupting him with noises of
amazemcnt. I couldn't hear the
story but went back to some  
shopkeepcrs I'd met that morning to ask
about her. She did exist, they said,
and told me where she lived. That
night I dreamed of her. It was an  
ordinary dream, the kind you, forget
when you wake and remember later
in the day only if something remind
you. So, as I made plans to see her
that evening ,  a jingled-jeweled
gypsy in bright colors ,  I  
remembered with a shock what I'd
dreamed. In my dream she was not a
gypsy at all but a small woman
dressed in the quiet gray of the
=Quakers. Only her eyes, unblinking
as a bird's, were strange.
After work I quickly went to her
house and was speechless when I
saw her. She was exactly the same.
She had the very same buttons on her
high-throated blouse, and the same
cocoa-brown fringe on her shawl.


But she was not surprised by my  
startled face and spoke first.  You
dreamed of me last night. Come in. 
=We had tea like two ordinary  
visitors while she related all the things
that had happened to me since  
leaving =England. She then told me that I
would not be a slave much longer
and that within the next eighteen
months I would be in great danger

=Bear cubs are born during the  
winter while the mother is in her den.
They stay in the den with their
mother for about two months and
then come out into the growing
warmth of spring. A mother bear
usually gives birth to one or two cubs
at a time, but she may have as many
as three or four.
From the time they are born until
they leave one or two years later, the
mother has full responsibility for
teaching her cubs many important
skills that help them survive a life in
the wilderness. For example, they
are taught to climb a tree and to  
remain completely quiet if the mother
senses that danger is near.
The mother also teaches them
how to find food. One of a bear's  
favorite foods is fish, and the mother
teaches her cubs how to wade into a
lake or stream to catch fish in their
strong jaws. If something happens
to the mother before she has taught
her young how to fish, they rarely
ever learn on their own, and if they
do, they are never very good at fishing.
The mother also teaches her cubs how to prepare for their
long winter sleep. Again, if something happens to the mother
before the cubs learn how to prepare for winter, it is not  
unusual, in colder parts of the world, for them to freeze to death.
A cub's life is not all work, though. Cubs love to play, and
the mother makes sure that they have time for fun activities,
such as chasing each other around rocks and bushes and
splashing each other in water.

&&000 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN  (1986) 7TH GRADE READER     HM19867T.ASC
PAGEANTS 
Source: Kutztown University, Pa. 
xerox by LW, scane and edit by DPH   March 5, 1993

&&111



=Matt tried not to show his own distrust.  What's his name? he
asked politely.
=Attean shrugged.  No name. =Aremus, dog. 
 If he doesn't have a name, how can he come when you call? 
 Him my dog. Him come. 
As though he knew what =Attean had said, the scruffy tail began
to weave back and forth.
 =Piz =wat, =Attean said.  Good for nothing. No good for hunt. No
sense. Him fight anything, bear, moose. There was no mistaking
the pride in =Attean's voice.
 What's wrong with his nose? 
=Attean grinned.  Him fight anything. Him chase =kogw, what
white man call? Needles all over. 
 Oh, a porcupine. That must have hurt. 
 Pull out many needles. Some very deep, not come out. Dog not
feel them now. 
Maybe not, =Matt thought, but he doubted those quills had
improved the dog's disposition. He didn't fancy this dog of
=Attean's.
During the lesson the dog prowled about outside the cabin and
finally thumped down on the path to bite and scratch at fleas. When
=Attean came out, the dog leaped up, prancing and yapping as
though =Attean had been gone for days. =Matt thought a little
better of him for that. It reminded him how his father's dog had
made a fuss every time his father came home. That old hound must
have just about wagged its tail off when his father came back from
=Maine.
The fact was, =Matt was a little jealous of =Attean. A dog would be
fine company here in the woods, no matter how scrawny it looked.

But not this one. No matter how often the dog came with
=Attean, he never let =Matt touch him. Nor did =Matt like him any
better. He was certainly no good at hunting. When the two boys
walked through the woods, the dog zigzagged ahead, sending
squirrels racing through trees and jays chattering, and ruining any
chance of a catch. =Matt wondered why =Attcan wanted him along.
=Attcan didn't pay him any mind except to shout at him and cuff him
when he was too noisy.



Since leaving =Fruitlands two years before, the =Alcotts had
dwelt first for eight months in =Still =River, and later for a
short time in =Concord, taken into the house of a good friend who
was glad to help them in their extremity. Finally they moved to
=Boston, where =Abba as well as =Bronson looked for work for the
support of the family. Now, however, under the suggestion of
that unfailing friend Mr =Emerson, and with his help, they
were returning to =Concord, this time to reside in a house that
actually belonged to them. It seemed as though at last they
might be settling upon some permanent plan of living. They
decided to name the house =Hillside; it is now known as
=Wayside.
The big wooden dwelling had been surrounded at first
with various buildings, sheds, a wheelwright's shop, and a
barn across the way. Mrs =Alcott, with vigorous enterprise, had
the barn moved to their side of the road, had the shop cut in
two and each half attached to an end of the house. In one of
these two small wings was a little room which was to be =Louisa's
very own, where she could keep all her treasures, write and
read, and do whatsoever she liked. It had a door into the
garden, so that she could run outside, under the trees,  
whenever the fancy seized her. How long she had desired just this,
a place of her very own!



young dancer was singled out as an outstanding member of the
company. During a =European tour in the summer of =1964, her
picture appeared in a =London newspaper, and in the article that
went with it, a critic chose her as his favorite.
Performing other people's dances soon held little interest for
the independent-minded =Twyla, however, and a year later she left
the =Taylor company. Although =Twyla claims she knew nothing about
choreography, she had her own ideas about movement and about
the kind of music she might use. Her first original dance was
called =Tank =Dive. Done to  =Downtown, a popular song of the
=mid'1960's, =Tank =Dive had its first performance at =Hunter
=College in =New =York =City in =April =1966.

When =Clive =Barnes, the =New =York =Times critic, saw =Tank =Dive
that year, he was not as pleased as her small audience had been. 
She moves beautifully, he wrote,  but her personal direction was
too bland. It would take time and many more dances to change his
mind.


forward at any moment. I cocked the trigger. It made a loud sound.
I raised the musket and pointed it at him again. I told him once
more that the ax belonged to me.
He hesitated with his mouth open. Then he said something in
his own language dropped the ax on the ground, and made his way
down the slope, along the stream to the edge of the pond. His canoe
was pulled up on shore. He lifted it into the water and sped away,
using his paddle on one side, then the other.
I watched until he was out of sight. The rest of the day I looked
for him, thinking that he might return. That night I lay awake, the
musket at my side.

Signs were everywhere of a long winter to come, the same
deep ice and snow we'd had two years before at home.
Tree squirrels gathered nuts at a frantic rate, scarcely pausing in
their labors. The flying squirrels, which are usually nocturnal,
were
out at dusk gathering the last of the hickory nuts, blown down by
two days of wind. Their undersides were a sparkling white and
heavily furred, a certain sign, my father had said, of early snow.
The
wild geese began their journey south, even leaving the lake at
night,
until one cold morning it was deserted. I missed the cries and the
shining wedges.
After three wild misses and a waste of powder and ball, I shot
another deer and smoked the meat. I dipped a dozen candles from
the tallow and two dozen rush lights from rushes I gathered along
the two ponds. Then I began on a door for the cave. The rush lights
and candles were easy tasks, because I had made them at home
many times before; but the door caused me trouble.
First, the opening to the cave was jagged on both sides and at
the top. With my ax I cut out a frame to fit, and then chinked the
holes between the rock and the wood with mud mixed with straw.
This was the easy part. The hard part came when I tried to make the
door itself.



It was =New =Year's =Eve, =1965,
when =John =Hobsinger, a cave  
biologist at =Old =Dominion =University,
found a bottle with a note in it in
=Virgina's =Endless =Caver's. Some
twenty years earlier, members of the
=New =York =Explorer's =Club had left
the note, challenging its finder to
take the bottle to the yet unexplored
end of the cave. =Hobsinger did just
that.  It turned out that the end of
the cavern was only a =hundred feet
or so further upstream, he recalls.
One of the country's foremost  
underground researchers, =Hobsinger



Don't worry, don't worry! =Jeff was saying; but I could tell that
he was plenty worried. We went quickly along, with me stumbling
after him. He let out a cry as he bumped into something. I could
hear his hand groping along the wall.
=Jeff, what's happening? 
He was choking, and I was beginning to cough. I could feel the
heat of the fire on my left, but the smoke was getting so thick I
could hardly breathe.
 This way! =Jeff began to pull me in a different direction. I
figured the fire must be all around us.
=Jeff stopped, and I bumped into him.  =Bojangles was nervous
and was whimpering.
Then I felt both of =Jeff's arms around me, holding me tightly.
 There's too much, there's too much smoke! The words came
out in short gasps.  I can't see. I can't see. I don't know where
the stairs are. 



You've certainly had a tough enough trip as it is, without our
making it any tougher. He turned to the inspector, who had
his trouser rolled up and was washing his leg.  How is the leg,
=Sandy? he asked.
 It's okay, I guess, sir, but that horse is the wildest one
I've seen around here in fourteen years! he answered.
 And I think the best, too! The officer smiled. He turned
to =Alec.  You must have quite a story, son, shipwrecked, and
turning up with an animal like this. 
 It is, sir. We were both on the =Drake when it went down, and
from what I've heard we're the only survivors.  He paused.  It's
a pretty long story, sir. He turned to the stallion.  How about
it, fella? =The =Black snorted.
With a clean bill of health, the ship left =Quarantine and
streamed through the =Narrows into the harbor.  =Alec eagerly
peered through the porthole beside the =Black's stall. His throat
tightened as the skyline rose before him. Here he was, back
home again! How differently he had left it five months ago, it
seemed more like five years!  =Alec felt the =Black's heavy
breathing on his arm. He turned and ran his hand across the tender
nostrils.  Well, =Black, he said,  we're home! 
He could see the two small tugs effortlessly pushing the big
freighter. The buildings climbed higher and higher into the
sky. A large liner, ocean-bound, passed them, its stacks  
belching while smoke into the heavens. Tankers and flatboats loaded
with railroad cars crept past. In the distance =Alec saw the
=Statue of =Liberty. His eyes filled with tears. What was the
matter with him?  He was too old to become emotional. But his
throat tightened and he swallowed hard as they neared the symbol of
freedom and home!



On the average, one float may
require as many as one hundred
=thousand flowers and up to a  
=million petals. Most of the flowers are
grown in =California. Some winter
roses are grown in the =California
desert with natural geothermal heat.
Days before the parade, flowers of
every variety are flown to =Pasadena
from far away, orchids from  
=Thailand, exotic blooms from =Israel,  
tulips from =Holland, fern and pine
from =Oregon, carnations from  
=Colorado, and gladioli from =Florida. If
the weather is bad in flower-growing
areas, =Raul has to make last-minute
substitutions:  One year we were
hoping for blue delphiniums, but
the weather wiped them out; we  
settled for blue statice, a little more
purple than the field of blue on
the =American flag, but luckily it
worked. 
Subtle shades of colors may seem
like a small detail to worry about,
but =Raul and his company pride
themselves on attention to flowers.
Whereas other float designers use
impressive animation on their floats
 huge eagle wings that move or
larger-than-life animated creatures ,
=Raul emphasizes dramatic designs
and the creative use of floral  
displays on his floats.
All floats have one essential  
moving part, the driver. 



his belt.  Come on, =Matthew said,
starting to run.  That =Black =Skull
=Rock is not far now. We can be back
at camp by noon. 
The skull-shaped rock was much
larger and farther away than  
=Matthew had first judged. It was almost
noon when the two boys finally
climbed onto the huge smooth stone
island. They walked carefully over
the whole tide-slick surface but
could find no reason for the
strange, heavy sounds that they had
heard.
 I can't understand it, =Kayak
said. Then he grabbed =Matthew by
the arm and pointed to a dark  
mysterious cavern.  There it is, he
whispered.
They examined the entrance
cautiously. It was just big enough
for them to bend and enter.
 Whatever causes that heavy
breathing sound must live in there, 
said =Matthew.  You go in and
see. 
 No, thank you, =Mattoosie. You
can go in first, said =Kayak,  while I
kick myself for coming here without
the rifle. 



is slipping along the edge of  
another. In others, as along the coast
of =Peru, one plate is diving beneath
another.
In areas where one plate is  
sliding by another, only about  
twothirds of the adjustment is made by
the slipping of rocks along the fault
system itself. The remaining third of
the strain is spread throughout the
surrounding area, causing  
earthquakes and faulting in a large  
region. The earthquake that destroyed
the four blocks of businesses in
=Coalinga, =California, on =May =2,
=1983, for example, was centered
about twenty miles east of the =San
=Andreas fault.
Harder to explain are  
 intraplate earthquakes, such as those
that damaged the =Mississippi =Valley
between Street =Louis and =Memphis in
=1811 and =1812. It is history more
than scientific understanding that
persuades us to call that valley a
high-risk area.
Earthquakes kill indirectly. A
person would be quite safe in an
open field during even a great
earthquake.


&&000 LAIDLAW BROTHERS (1980)  7TH GRADE        LAI9807T.ASC
LEVEL 14  EXCURSIONS by William Eller et al
Source: Hobart WS xerox scan edit by DPH   February 12, 1993

&&111


and would call to one another before hunting. I would stir
up my fire and think about how much food it must take to
keep one little bird alive in that fierce cold. They must eat
and eat and eat, I thought.
Once, however, I came upon a male cardinal sitting in a
hawthorn bush. It was a miserable day, gray, damp, and
somewhere around the zero mark. The cardinal wasn't doing
anything at all, just sitting on a twig, all fluffed up to keep
himself warm. Now there s a wise bird, I said to myself. He
is conserving his energy; none of this flying around looking
for food and wasting effort. As I watched him, he shifted his
feet twice, standing on one and pulling the other up into his
warm feathers. I had often wondered why birds feet didn't
freeze, and there was my answer. He even sat down on both
of them and let his warm feathers cover them like socks.

January =8
I took =Frightful out today. We went over to the meadow
to catch a rabbit for her; as we passed one of the hemlocks
near the edge of the grove, she pulled her feathers to her
body and looked alarmed. I tried to find out what had  
frightened her, but saw nothing.

On the way back we passed
the same tree, and I noticed an
owl pellet cast in the snow. I
looked up. There were lots of
limbs and darkness, but I could
not see the owl. I walked around
the tree; =Frightful stared at one
spot until I thought her head
would swivel off. I looked, and
there it was, looking like a  
broken limb, a great horned owl. I
must say I was excited to have
such a neighbor. I hit the tree
with a stick, and he flew off.
Those great wings, they must
have been five feet across, beat
the wind, but there was no



themselves. And he gave her a jackknife, which she thought as
great a treasure as if she were a desert island. All day long
he did not once make her troubled except when he brought
down some unsuspecting singing creature from its bough. =Sylvia
would have liked him vastly better without his gun; she could
not understand why he killed the very creatures he seemed to
like so much. But as the day waned, =Sylvia still watched the  
ornithologist with admiration. She had never seen anybody so
charming and delightful. They stopped to listen to a bird s song;
then they pressed forward again eagerly, parting the branches, 
speaking to each other rarely and in whispers. The man went
first, and =Sylvia followed a few steps behind, fascinated but
shy, her gray eyes dark with excitement.
She grieved because the longed-for white heron was elusive;
but she did not lead the guest, she only followed, and there was
no such thing as speaking first. The sound of her own  
unquestioned voice would have terrified her, it was difficult
enough to answer yes or no when there was need of that. At last 
evening began to fall, and they drove the cow home together, and
=Sylvia smiled with pleasure when they came to the place where she
had heard the whistle the night before.
Half a mile from home, where the land was highest, a great
pine tree stood, the last of its generation. Whether it was left
for a boundary mark or for another reason, no one could say.
The woodchoppers who had felled its mates were dead and gone
long ago, and a dense forest of sturdy trees, pines and oaks
and maples, had grown again. But the stately head of this old
pine towered above them all and made a landmark for sea and
shore miles and miles away.  =Sylvia knew it well. She had  
always believed that whoever climbed to the top of it could see
the ocean. Now she thought of the tree with a new excitement,
for if she climbed it at break of day, could she not see all the
world and easily discover from where the white heron flew and
mark the place and find the hidden nest?
All night the door of the little house stood open, and  
whippoorwills came and sang upon the step. The hunter and his  
elderly hostess were sound asleep, but =Sylvia s great design kept
her wide-awake and watching. The short summer night seemed
as long as the winter darkness. At last, when the whippoorwills



please. And count!  Miss =Orpheo began to sing in her high
opera-singer voice: =La-di =da-di-DA, =la-dee, =DA-DEE.  =Waldo, 
she called,  since you seem to have developed a new interest
in music, you may stay and listen. Be so kind as to remove
your arms from the top of the piano. The piano is the  
instrument of =Mozart and =Beethoven, =Chopin and =Schumann.     
Her voice rose, trembling slightly.  The piano is a vehicle of
art,  she informed him,  NOT a public resting place. 
=Waldo jumped back with a start.  Yes =m,  he gasped.
=Hilary, I am still waiting. Please begin,  said Miss =Orpheo.
=Hilary sat down and began to play, scrambling to catch up
to Miss =Orpheo, who had started without her. =Hilary s hands
were shaking. She glanced ahead at the music.
There was no time to think. Miss =Orpheo pressed forward,
pulling =Hilary along with her. Together, they played into the
second page. =Hilary relaxed and her fingers began to unknot.
Once, she glanced at =Waldo. He was sitting on his hands on
the couch, staring at her. She smiled faintly at him. She
knew what he was thinking. It didn't sound like =Hilary playing.
Well, actually it wasn't.
The music =Hilary  rather, the piano  produced was unlike
anything =Hilary had ever heard herself play. Her fingers flew
over the keyboard, swift and assured; the staccatos were
bright and sharp; the rhythm was steady; and the accents, 
no longer accidents, were where they belonged. It wasn't
surprising, of course, with Miss =Orpheo inside the piano,
working the hammers, lifting the dampers, supplying difficult
notes, fending off wrong ones, always holding =Hilary to a
steady rhythm. This is the way it goes      one and two
and.    The =Bach invention sparkled, its crystal notes  
rising and falling like a fountain of water. For the first time,
the
piece made sense to =Hilary. It was fun to play with =Miss  
=Orpheo as a partner, she decided. For the first time in her life,
=Hilary almost enjoyed a piano lesson.
At five o clock the lesson was over. =Waldo left the couch
and approached the piano cautiously.  You know what?  he
said, looking at his sister with awe.  It's just like my friend
=Stevie s player piano, only better.  =Stevie s parents had an
old player piano that played by itself when you pumped air



=Leland =Stanford was the governor of =California in the late
=1800 s. He was a =United =States senator. He built the =Central
=Pacific =Railroad. But persons who knew him well agreed that he
also liked to breed, train, and race fine horses.
Most persons who spent time around stables and racetracks
were interested only in an animal s bloodline and speed. =Stanford
was interested in the way a horse runs. He called the movement
 poetry in motion.  He did not know, however, if an animal
moves at high speed by pulling with its front feet or by pushing
with its hind feet.
It is said that =Stanford got into a discussion of the matter
with =James =R =Keene and =Frederick =MacCrellish. Stanford  
suggested that  at some point in its gait, a trotter may actually
have four feet off the ground.  =Keene and =MacCrellish are said
to have scoffed loudly at this silly idea. =Stanford offered to
prove that he was right.
This may have been the beginning of =Stanford's  
hard-to explain goal. He set out to prove himself correct by means
of cameras. Hints and references in many of his letters show that
he had the idea as early as =1870. =Stanford wanted to see if a
camera could show how a horse runs. He needed an expert  
photographer.
Such a person reached =California in =1872.  =Edward =J  
=Muybridge was one of the most-noted photographers in the late



of the high-pitched
sound. l knew l couldn't lie there
forever tangled in the frame of
my bicycle. l had to get up and
face whatever it was behind me.
With a desperate scramble, l
separated myself from the bike
and grasped for the meager  
protection of a narrow tree trunk.
Then slowly l turned and stared
into the silent woods. There was
nothing there, only clumps of
trees and bushes and my  
certainty that l had seen something.
Oddly enough, it never occurred
to me to run away. With the
memory of what l had seen so
briefly, l could never return to
my previous life without an  
explanation. Reason and sanity  
demanded that l go forward and
investigate.
l pushed some branches aside
and stepped farther into the
woods. After walking a little way
through dense foliage, l suddenly
came to a clearing and stopped.
l had found what l was looking
for.
lt was silvery blue, and about
as large as a small car. It was
shaped like two shallow bowls
placed rim to rim. Black wires
protruded from the top and
trembled like leaves. The body of
the ship was rough and uneven.
lt took me a moment to realize
that it was covered with  
exquisitely delicate carvings.



The =Brendan s wooden frame
was covered with the oxhides,
stitched patchwork-quilt style. This
required =20 000 hand stitches.
Three months of hard work  
followed. The boat was outfitted, a
crew was chosen, and sea trials
were conducted. On =May =17, =1976,
the =Brendan set sail for the =Land
=Promised to the =Saints. It left
from an appropriate spot,  
=Brandon =Creek in southwest Ireland.
Street =Brendan is said to have
started there some =1 400 years
ago.
Their route took them from  
=Ireland s offshore islands to =Scotland
and the =Danish-ruled =Faroes.
Later they sailed to =Iceland,
where the =Brendan wintered. The
following spring, they set sail for
=Newfoundland. They fought
squalls and high winds. They even
got trapped in the =Arctic spring
ice pack off =Greenland.



took us five months to get this far and it will take us
another five months to get home. If we are to keep your
=Aunt =Arabella from being sold out, we have two months
left. Two months to fill our pockets with nuggets. 
=Jack found himself pacing back and forth like the miner in
the lobby below.  Ruination!  =Jack said.  We've come all
this way and now, we're no closer. 
Nonsense,  said =Praiseworthy. There was a pitcher half
filled with water on the chest and he poured a small amount
into the washpan.  We'll be on tomorrow s riverboat, I
promise you. Now then, I suggest we wash up as best we
can, =Master =Jack. 
Wash! Jack thought. There wasn't time to wash!  How will
we pay the fare? 
Let me see. We have =thirty-eight dollars left. That s a
start, isn't it? Of course, we'll have our room and meals to
pay. But if I detect one thing in the air, it s opportunity.
The sooner you wash, =Master =Jack, the sooner we can tend
to our financial dilemma. Your =Aunt =Arabella wouldn t allow
you abroad on the streets with dirty ears and sea salt in
your eyebrows. And don t forget the soap. 
Ruination,  =Jack muttered again. He might as well be
home in =Boston.
When they returned to the lobby, the shaggy miner was
still there, pacing and muttering in his dusty beard. He
glanced at =Jack, a dark sudden glance, and then the butler
and the boy went out on the street.
But as they ambled along the boardwalk =Jack began to  
realize that the miner was following them. Or so it seemed for
a moment.
They had hardly gone half a block when =Jack saw the
miner in the floppy hat once again behind them. The black
pistol in his belt suddenly looked larger. But =Jack said
nothing. The miner could want nothing with them. Nothing
at all.
He was still at their heels when the butler and the boy
crossed the street. Now =Jack was beginning to feel anxious.
Even a little scared. Finally he looked up at =Praiseworthy.
 He's following us. 



In these two sentences the  
author =Isaac =Asimov introduces a
main character in  =Rain, =Rain, =Go
=Away.  =The reader can predict
that =Lillian =Wright is a person who
wants things to be in order. The
reader can guess some words that
might describe her. =Lillian might
be inquisitive, prying, or just plain
nosy. What =Lillian says is one clue to
her character. What she does is
another. It might have been  
simpler for =Asimov to come right out
and tell you some of the main
character traits of =Lillian. But that
would have been dull.
=Asimov introduces =Lillian s  
husband =George like this:  There
who is? asked her husband, trying
to get satisfactory contrast on the



who will come to see it. We're doing it for ourselves, to
remind us of our ancestors. That's why I m so glad you're
going along with it, even though I have a hunch you don t
think much of the idea. 
=Oh, it s all right,  l said weakly. What could I say?
But after that I couldn't tell him what I really thought of his
potlatch. And I couldn't try to get out of it either. l had to go
along and pretend l liked it.
School was always out early in =June and right afterward the
tourists started flocking to the beach. It didn't give us too
much time to get ready for them.
One =Sunday morning, =Pop took the little boys to get  
baskets, arrowheads and jerky from =Great-Grandma and =Grandpa
=Lachance. They didn't get home until dark, but the truck was
full and the little boys were so pooped that they just fell  
into bed.
There were baskets of every shape and size, so many that
they filled a whole corner of our kitchen, and there was a
third of a gunnysack of arrowheads. They also brought  
another sack filled with dried jerky and a haunch of fresh  
venison. But the best things of all were two fringed deerskin
dresses with moccasins to match for =Mom and me.
 Your great-grandma says somebodys got to represent the
=Tutunti tribe,  explained =Pop.  And she says you're the ones
to do it. 
The deerskin was as smooth as cream and a lot better
looking than a rabbit-fur bib and a bark skirt. l put mine on
and it fitted exactly. l could have kissed =Great-Grandma  
=Lachance if she d been there, even though she wouldnt like it.
=Huh, snorted =Grandma =Longor.  Don't forget you're half
=Chinook, =Plum, even if your =Ma ain't. 
 Oh, =Pop can explain that in his talk,  =Simon assured her.
 And it s good to have both tribes from the reservation. 
 Talk? Me?  said =Pop quickly.  What talk? 
 Why, you're going to be the master of ceremonies,   
explained =Simon, and we all stared in amazement. It was the
first we d heard about it.  You'll greet the guests and  
welcome them to the potlatch. Then you'll introduce all of us
and explain about the different tribes on the reservation and



Suddenly he stopped, raising a war ax high to signal the
others, who followed single file behind him. The sound
=O-Tah-Wah thought he had heard did not come again, so he
started to move once more. There! This time they all heard
it. Terror struck them to stone as they listened. Faintly, the
yelping of several dogs could be heard far behind them. Dogs
were what each of them feared most. Someone tracking prey
could often be fooled by various tricks. But a dog, if it was a
good tracker, could never be misled for long.
It was now time for the slaves to go their separate ways.
Capture was almost certain for those slaves the dogs chose
to track. All of them had known this before they left,  
however, so each pair of slaves was ready to take its chance
alone. =O-Tah-Wah and =Bruin gripped the hands of each slave in
turn, then trotted off, still heading straight north. By doing
so, they were putting themselves in the greatest danger of
all, for the dogs would probably continue to follow the
straight trail, paying little attention to those that led away
to the east and west.
=O-Tah-Wah thought of the morning, much like this one,
when he had first realized he was within the territory of the
=Flatheads. Angrily, he recalled the treatment they had given
him, and the slavery he had been forced to accept.  I must
escape! I must escape! I must escape!  he thought over and
over again.
Quite suddenly, =O-Tah-Wah and =Bruin both heard the dogs
again. There was no doubt that the barking was closer now.
=O-Tah-Wah stopped to listen, his chest heaving as the breath
burst from his nose and mouth in explosive clouds of steam.
=Bruin, too, was panting hard. Both slaves, although strong
and well, were not used to this kind of running.
=Bruin spoke between breaths as they walked on.  We must
now find a stream, =Little =Brother. Perhaps you know of a
river or creek near here that you crossed at the time of your
capture? 
 Yes,  =O-Tah-Wah answered as they started to run again,
 I believe there is a small creek.  The crippled hunter knew
&&000 MACMILLAN   (1980)      7TH GRADE           MAC9807T.ASC
ROOTS AND WINGS by Carl B. Smith and Ronald Wardbaugh
Source: SUNY Cortland  xeroxed, scanned, edited by DPH 
January 11, 1993

&&111


 Correct,  replied =Scrupnor.  In exclusivity, to put the proper
legal term on it.
 I've always dealt with =Farmer =Tench,  said Mr =Parsel.  He gives
good value for money, especially in the matter of vegetables. 
 From now on, you'll deal with me,  said =Scrupnor.  That, sir, is
the very nature and essence of exclusivity. 
From the kitchen, =Mallory could not help overhearing the  
exchange between the =Parsels and =Scrupnor, but her thoughts were
only to lay hands on whatever leftovers she could find and take
them to =Arbican as fast as she could. She snatched up half a loaf
of bread and a remnant of cheese and dropped them into her basket.
The floor creaked behind her; though before she could turn, an arm
was flung tightly about her waist and a hand seized her by the
hair. =Mallory choked back a cry an~d twisted around to find
herself staring up into the grinning face of =Bolt, the squire's
game-keeper. The more she struggled, the more =Bolt tightened his
fingers in her hair until her eyes watered so heavily she could
scarcely see. She beat her fists against his jacket while =Bolt
only laughed at her efforts. I saw you come sneaking in,  he said
in her ear, pulling =Mallory closer. Little baggage, what are you
up to? You'll catch it from Mrs =P. But you be cheerful and
friendly, now; stay on my good side and she'll never know you're
here. 
For answer, =Mallory kicked him twice in the shins. =Bolt let out
a roar, snatched away his hands to rub frantically at the injured
parts, jigging up and down on one leg then the other. The
gamekeeper's bellowing, however, brought the =Parsels and their
company hurrying into the kitchen. =Mallory would have tried to
escape then and there and face the consequences later. But as the
girl stooped to retrieve the
scattered leftovers, Mrs =Parsel, showing amazing lightness of
foot, laid hold of =Mallory and, unhesitating, boxed her ears.
 Lay on,  cried =Bolt, as if Mrs =Parsel needed further
encouragement.  My dear,  Mr =Parsel murmured to his wife, 
shouldn't we know what she's done? 
 She's like to paralyze me, the little beast, isn't that enough? 
the gamekeeper declared.
 Quite enough,  agreed Mrs =Parsel.  You stay out of this, =Parsel.
She's in one of her moods. If you ask me, it's the fairy tales that
does it. Her head's so stuffed with those tales; I try every way to
get them out, but no use. 



FOLKTALES: Tales of the Real World

The following stories, tales of the real world, involve realistic
characters in life-like situations. The =Fly is set in =Vietnam
long ago, when that country was ruled by an =Emperor and by
officials, or mandarins, who represented the =Emperor's authority.
As you read, notice the details that describe life in historic
=Vietnam.  =Abunuwas the =Trickster is set in =Bagdad, the capital
city of an
ancient =Arab empire, now the capital city of =Iraq. As you read,
think about =Abunuwas, the clever trickster. Have you met another
character in a story who resembles him?
Everyone in the village knew the usurer, a rich and smart
man. Having accumulated a fortune over the years, he settled
down to a life of leisure in his big house surrounded by an  
immense garden and guarded by a pack of ferocious dogs. But still
unsatisfied with what he had acquired, the man went on making
money by lending it to people all over the country at exorbitant
rates. The usurer reigned supreme in the area, for numerous were
those who were in debt to him.
One day, the rich man set out for the house of one of his  
peasants. Despite repeated reminders, the poor laborer just could
not manage to pay off his long-standing debt. Working himself to a
shadow, the peasant barely succeeded in making ends meet. The
moneylender was therefore deterrnined that if he could not get his
money back this time, he would proceed to confiscate some of his
debtor's most valuable belongings. But the rich man found no one
at the peasant's house but a small girl of eight or nine playing
alone in the dirt yard.



Do you knit or sew? Do you like to
fix or build things? When you have
a pencil or pen in your hand, do
you find yourself doodling and
drawing pictures? Most people
seem to have an urge to use their
hands. Perhaps the great artists are
people who can't stop doodling or
building or shaping people who
must have tools in hand and a  
project in mind to be happy. As you
read this short story, ask yourself
why =Keplik loves to work with his
hands.

There once was a little old man
who lived in a big old tenement on
=Second =Avenue. His name was Mr
=Keplik and he had once been a
watchmaker. In the window of his
tiny watch-repair shop he had put
up a sign that read: WHEN YOUR
WRISTWATCH WON'T TICK, ITS TIME FOR
=KEPLIK. =Keplik loved watches and
clocks and had loved repairing
them. If a clock he was repairing
stopped ticking he would say to
himself,  =Eh, =eh, =eh, it's dying.  
And when it started ticking again he
would say,  I am =gebentsht. I am
blessed. It's alive. Whenever an elevated train  
rumbled by overhead, =Keplik would
have to put down his delicate work,
for his workbench and entire shop
would shake and vibrate. But =Keplik
would close his eyes and say,
 Never mind. There are worse
things. How many people back in
=Lithuania wouldn't give their right


thought about this idea and  
remembered what her dance instructor in
college had told her:  If you are to
become a dancer, you must  
concentrate on yourself, not just copy the
movements of your classmates. 
=Susan explains,  Although I was
not trained as a dance teacher or as
a professional dancer, I decided that
I would teach the class. I believed my
deep understanding of deafness
would help me. In teaching my
seventh-grade math class and
ninth-grade =English class for the
deaf, for example, I used every way of
communicating that I could think
of, signing  or sign language ,
fingerspelling, speech and lip  
reading, and amplification. In my dance
class for the deaf. I found signing
and ampliflcation especially useful. 
=Amplification makes sounds much
louder than normal. Deaf people who
hear amplified music can feel the
vibrations of the sound on the floor.
In this way, a deaf student can
dance and move with the music. It
was easy, =Susan found, to feel the
vibration of the beat when rock
music was playing. But modern
dance and ballet have a less obvious
beat. She elaborates.  I had to learn




One morning long ago,
=Thomas =Jefferson climbed
into his horse-drawn buggy
and left his fine house in =Virginia.
He was traveling to the nation's
capital, =Washington, , =DC, where
he had once served as =President of
the =United =States.
The summer morning was quiet,
except for the =clip-clop of the horse
trotting along the country road. But
=Jefferson frowned. From the sound
of the hoofbeats, he could tell  
something was wrong. His horse was
limping slightly.
 Easy, =Molly,  he called out to
the little mare in a soothing voice.
 We'll get you a new shoe in the
next town. 
As the horse moved along,  
=Jefferson could hear the tinkle of a
bell that he had attached to the
back of the buggy together with a
wheel for measuring distance. This
wheel was much smaller than the
two wheels of the buggy, and
every time it turned one =hundred
times, the bell rang. After ten rings
of the bell, the traveler had covered
exactly one mile.
=Jefferson was not only a great
patriot, but also a scientist and  
inventor who liked to make things
with his hands. But his greatest
wish was to solve the many  
puzzling problems that faced the young
=United =States.
For example, there was the
troublesome matter of =American's
coins. The new nation was made
up of people from many lands.
They had brought with them their
many kinds of money. All these
were the coins with which people
bought and sold goods, received
their wages, and paid their debts.
What confusion for the poor
storekeeper! He tried to read the
words on =French, =Spanish, and
=Dutch coins but had little idea
about their value. In addition, each
of the colonies of =American had its
own kind of coins, adding to the
muddle of =American's money.
For this problem, =Jefferson gave
the nation a simple solution. He
held up his hands, explaining to
the =Congress of the =United =States
that since ancient times people had
counted on their fingers. That was
why, he pointed out, the world
had a system of counting based on
the number ten. In planning a new
system of coins, suggested  
=Jefferson, =American would be wise to use
the simple table of tens.



The toy xylophone was poorly tuned. That was why the five
=U notes sounded so strange when little =Barry played them.
He didn't learn them all at once, =Jillian noted from the other
room. He had kept working on the tune until he got it    well 
the way he wanted it. To =Jillian's ear, even though the tune was
strange, =Barry's chuckles were reassuring. He was there. He was
happy. The tune's curious sequence of five notes, where do kids get
these ideas?, was oddly disturbing, but of course, these toy
xylophones were never accurate. It was easy to make them sound   
well      peculiar.
=Jillian had spent the day, as she had the day before, making
endless charcoal and pastel sketches. She had abandoned a career
in art by the simple act of moving this far from big cities. But
the habit of it was difficult to shake. She would find herself
sketching =Barry, a chair, a random arrangement of a catsup bottle,
salt shaker, and dirty plate on the kitchen table. Today she had
been drawing landscapes, mountainous ones. In the way they looked,
distant uneven rows of teeth, peaks at odd intervals, they somehow
reminded her of the tune =Barry kept repeating on his xylophone.
Random choice made mountains look as they did, the merest
chance crisscross of volcanic thrust and gravity and the beating
down of weather over centuries of time.
Only random choice could have brought =Barry to pick out those
five notes. Yet once he chose them, he remained with them.
The way =Barry sounded those notes, it was almost as if in  
randomness there could be a message.
=Jillian threw most of her sketches away in the cleanup process,
but she saved one because it reminded her of something. She
didn't remember what exactly. This particular mountain she had
drawn was terribly tall and thin, needly and distorted. It was like
one of those desert spires formed when wind and sand have eaten
away the softer stone to lay bare the core spout of harder lava,
the ancient throat of a volcano.



=Marv leaned his cheek on his hand, and thought with  
satisfaction how nothing in this world is impossible if you put
your mind to it.  Of course, with the vat in the basement of
=Independence =Hall, you could have pipes running into every room
in the building. Pipes could connect with every inkwell in the
place. No inkwell in =Independence =Hall need ever run dry again.
=Marv licked his lips. But wait! Pipes? Were there any pipes in
=1776? Maybe not, but there are today. All over the country,
important papers have to be signed. John =Hancock wasn't the only
one who needed ink. How about =President =Roosevelt? Didn't he need
ink? And =Governor =Lehman? And =Mayor =La =Guardia?
All over the country, people had electricity, didn't they? They
had water pumped in and out of their houses. How about ink?
Wouldn't people always need ink? Didn't his own father need ink?
What would the =Bakers =Union, =Local =27, do if his father didn't
have enough ink to write his reports? Nobody should ever be without
ink. Every city should have a central supply with pipes that
connected to every house. The ink could flow forever, and this
country would be safe.
But where was everybody going? Why was everybody getting
up? He wasn't finished. He hadn't worked out ink meters for each
house. Why was everybody in such a hurry?
 =Marvin,  said Mr =Henderson,  didn't you even hear the three
o'clock bell? 
=Marv shook his head, trying to shake himself back into =PS =63
at three o'clock on a =Friday afternoon, =April =30, =1940.

Captain =Prince had a sudden coughing spell.
A =British ship hailed the =Astre
=Captain =Willoughby came aboard.
He, too, wanted to know how it
was around the =Horn.
Captain =Hudson began to enjoy
himself.  They just arrived from
=Batavia. Yes, we know it isn't
done, but they did it. 
Captain =Willoughby searched
their faces, as though trying to
figure out the joke.  You mean
you have a man who can work
lunars? 
Captain =Hudson laughed.  One
man? They have a crew that can
work lunars! The cabin boy just
explained it to me! I tell you,  
Captain  =Willoughby, there's more
knowledge of navigation on this
=American ship than there has ever
been before in the whole of =Manila
=Bay!   From across the deck, =Lupe
lifted his hand in a salute to =Nat.
His grin flashed white in his
swarthy face. A smile danced in
his eyes. =Nat grinned back at him.
A good man, =Lupe.
When =Nathaniel returned from =Manila he began work on his
book of navigation. By the time he was =thirty, he had published
his book, =The =American =Practical =Navigator, and had seen it  
recognized as the best navigational text of the day. The =American
=Practical =Navigator is still used as a standard reference by the
=United =States =Navy and is frequently revised by the =Secretary
of the =Navy.


that something was definitely wrong,
or at least not quite in balance.
The point is, without ever  
uttering a sound, a person can say all
kinds of things with body positions
 or postures  and movements  or
gestures . A person  speaks  with
facial expressions, the variety of
ways the eyes and mouth move or
the forehead wrinkles. A person
 talks  by using certain hand and
arm gestures. The way a person
holds his or her head and the way
he or she walks, sits, or stands, 
various parts of the body moving
separately or together, send  
messages to an observer.
Often words and actions are
used at the same time to put across
messages. Suppose your family
moves into a new neighborhood.
The first time you meet other young
people on the block, you would
want to get acquainted. If you asked
to join a game or walk with the
other kids to a neighborhood store,
you might smile a lot  without ever
realizing it . You could share part of
a candy bar as you talk to a
stranger. Your words and gestures
say,  I'm friendly.  Possibly you'd
toss a ball out to one of the
neighborhood kids. You would hold
your hands up to catch the ball on a
return throw. Not only your words,
but your actions also would say:  I'd
like you to throw the ball and let me
be part of your fun.  Scientists
who study human behavior point out that the gesture
which can be almost any motion of
the body, was probably the first
form of human speech. The experts
also tell us that the hands and face
are the most natural parts of the
body to use for gestures. Almost
everyone begins very early in life to
communicate with some kind of
body movement.
In fact, without realizing it, all of
us learn a body language as well as
a language that is verbalized, or
spoken. Young children, for  
example, copy various kinds of behavior
and learn the meaning of a gesture
by seeing it over and over again in
a particular situation. The  
up and down or the back-and-forth  
movements of the head are gestures
taught even to babies. They soon
realize that the nod of a head
means  yes  and the shake of the
head means  no. Then, too, you've seen  
grownups teach youngsters how to wave
or point. These actions are repeated



and explained with directives like
 Say =bye-bye  or  Show us the
kitty.  Toddlers often mimic older
brothers or sisters in a family. Did
you ever see a little guy stand with
his feet spread apart, his hands
clenched in fists on his hips, his
chin jutting out, an exact miniature
of a big brother who is arguing or
defending someone? Many young
children also copy actions by  
modeling themselves after older children
on the school playground, in the
halls or at assemblies.



Singing =Squirrel was an old  
=American Indian woman who lived on the
opposite side of town from the army
fort. She had become like a  
grandmother to =Sarah. When things were
going wrong, talking them over with
=Singing =Squirrel usually straightened
everything out.
Arriving at the tiny log house, =Sarah
found =Singing =Squirrel bent over a
large boiling pot, making soap.
 Hello, =Singing =Squirrel. 
 Ah, =Sarah, my little daughter.
Come. You are in time to help me stir
the soap.  =Looking closely at =Sarah,
the old woman noticed two tears slide
down her cheeks.  Something is
wrong. 
 Oh, =Singing =Squirrel, I feel awful. 
 Come. Sit and tell me. 
So =Sarah told her about her lovely
feeling that morning, about not  
wanting to pick thimbleberries with =Peter,
about hunting agates all alone, and
about how terrible she felt.
=Singing =Squirrel listened quietly
until =Sarah was finished. They were
both silent for several minutes. The
gulls could be heard over the harbor.
The wind rustled the trees overhead.
A chipmunk ran across the yard and
under the cabin. It was very peaceful.
Finally, =Singing =Squirrel said,  =There
is a legend about the daisy. My  
grandmother told it to me one hot summer
day when I ran away to keep from  
sewing winter shirts. The daisy was created
to be the most beautiful of all flowering
bushes. The royal hummingbird
would only build her nest in a daisy.
No berries were sweeter than hers.
So sweet were they that the bees  
borrowed her secret, and today their
honey is the reminder of that fruit. 
 But daisies don't grow on bushes
and have berries. 
 But when the =Great =Spirit first made
them, they did,  said =Singing =Squirrel.
 How did they become just flowers? 
The old woman settled herself  
beside =Sarah.  When the =Great =Spirit
filled the world with the plants and
animals, the waters with fish, and the
air with birds, He gave everyone three
gifts. First, He bestowed on each  
creature its own beauty so as to teach all
His children their own worth to  
Himself. Next, he gave each one the gift of
need for some other kind of creature.
This was to teach humility by realizing
that nothing can live by itself. Lastly,
every fish, bird, flower, tree, and  
animal received a service to perform for
one of its fellows. In fulfilling a duty to
another, He knew they would learn to
love; for the path of service is the  
path


way of love.
 He made the pine tree tall and
thick. Within its branches, He taught
the winter birds to build their nests.
Then when the snows and winds of
winter came, there was safe shelter for
all who hid there.  He made the maple tree  
broadleafed and spreading. Beneath her, =He
planted the woodland flowers, the
trillium, the mayapple, the violet, 
shaded from the hot summer sun.



Imagine a supermarket where the food was put on the shelves in
no special order. It might take a long time to find a single item.
The food in most stores is arranged according to type. All the
vegetables are in one section, all the meats are in another  
section, and so on. Having the food organized makes shopping much
easier. To help the customers, grocers classify their products.
Classifying is grouping things according to type. Each group is
called a category. One category in a supermarket would be
vegetables.

Items are the things in each category. Items in the category of
vegetables would include beans, corn, and carrots. Here is
another example of a category and its items:

Category: meats
Items: ground beef, steak, lamb chops

ACTIVITY A  Read each group of items. Then read the categories
that follow. Choose the correct category for each group of items.
Write the category on your paper.

Items: poodle, collie, terrier, beagle, dalmatian
Category: monkeys, dogs, horses

Items: Iowa, =Wisconsin, =Michigan, =California, =Louisiana
Category: countries, cities, states

Items: green, blue, red, purple, black
Category: colors, numbers, letters

ACTIVITY B Read each group of words. One word in the group
names the category. The other words are the items in the  
category. Write the word that names the category.

 school, museum, library, buildings, post office, courthouse
 baker, jobs, teacher, bus driver, secretary, doctor
 oxygen, hydrogen, neon, helium, gases, argon
 soccer, tennis, baseball, sports, hockey, swimming

Sometimes a group of items may be named by more than one
category. In such cases, label the items with the most specific
category. For example, ground beef, steak, and lamb chops all
Classifying
&&000 MACMILLAN  (1983)  7TH GRADE READER           MAC9837T.ASC
ROOTS AND WINGS  
Source: Kutztown University (Pa.)
Xerox by LW  scan edit by DPH March 5, 1993

&&111



Learning to be responsible is a part of growing up. But what
does the word responsible mean?  =Edward =Frost wants a dog,
but his parents don't think he is ready to take on the  
responsibility of caring for a pet. =Edward disagrees. As you read
this story, think about what it means to be responsible for the
care of another. What does this responsibility involve?

=Edward =Frost stood at the window and watched the rain, tossing
in sudden gusts along the street when the wind caught it, then  
falling straight again. Once in a while, a car went by, its tires
hissing; and once, a wet, ruffled robin bounded across the grass
and then took to its wings and flew, apparently, over the roof.
Now a dog came running along, its nose to the ground, its back
quite sleek with water. =Edward watched it, hopefully. There were
so many stories in which the boy wanted a dog but didn't get one
until a wonderful dog came along and selected him. In the stories,
these dogs were either stray ones, or the people who owned them saw
how the boy and the dog loved each other and gave the dog up.
In the stories, the parents agreed to keep the dog, even if
they'd been very much against the idea earlier.
=Edward was always looking around for some dog that would
follow him home from school and refuse to leave. In a case like
that, he didn't see how his mother could refuse. He had even, a
couple of times, tried to lure a dog to follow him, whistling at
it,
snapping his fingers, and running in a tempting way. But he must
have picked dogs that already had homes and liked th~m. Now if
this dog, this wet dog running along by itself in the rain, should
suddenly stop at his house, and come up to the door; and cry to be
let in     wouldn't his mother be sure to let =Edward have it? You
couldn't leave a dog out in the rain, could you? The dog ran across
the street, ran back, dashed halfway over the lawn, stopped to
shove its nose in a puddling flowerpot, backed off sneezing, sat
down, and scratched its chin.




They have found an area containing
peace, harmony, friendship, health
wealth and happiness. Don't
everybody rush to buy a ticket,
however. These items exist together only in one place, ~he
dictionary!
Take it away  =Lex =Lexicon.  She
runs off left.

=LEX: And now    a message from
our sponsor.
=Haunted =MAN:  Running in down right
and falling to his knees in  
supplication: Help me! Somebody help me!
They're haunting me! The =Spelling
=Demons! Here they come!  THREE
=SPELLING =DEMONS enter and dance
around =HAUNTED =MAN, jabbing at
him with their tridents. 
=DEMONS  =Adlib: A spell. A spell.
We have you under a spell.
=1ST =DEMON: Spell there. Is it  
 spelling  =t-h-e-r-e?
=2ND =DEMON: Or is it  spelling 
=t-h-e-i-r?
=HAUNTED =MAN:  I don't know! I don't
know !
=3RD =DEMON: Maybe it spelling 
=t-h-e-y-apostrophe-r-e .
=HAUNTED =MAN: Apostrophes are  
catastrophes! Please somebody    help
me!  =WHICH =DOCTOR dances on waving a dictonary.
at =Demons, who shriek and cover their eyes
=DEMONS: No no! Take it away! You'll
break our spell !  They retreat  
fearfully.
=WHICH =DOCTOR: Be gone. =Spelling
=Demons. I have the antidote for
you. I am the =Which =Doctor and  I
bring this magical book.  =WHICH
=DOCTOR waves the dictionary at
them. They exit right. 



=Lupe's terth flashed white. He
held out one brown hand. Across
the palm lay a knife.  Do not stop
me, what  I say, sir. I say it
quick, or  I lose the nerve. Two
weeks, maybe three  I try to get
up the nerve. 
So =Lupe had been following him.
=Nat said again,  Yes, =Lupe? 
  I want to ask you, sir, could
we trade the, the know-how? 
 The know-how? 
  I want to learn the the
navigation. I teach you to throw
the knife you teach me the  
navigation, eh? 
=Nat began to laugh, then stopped
suddenly when he saw the smile
stiffen on =Lupe's face.  Forgive me,
=Lupe. But the idea of my learning
to throw a knife it just struck
me funny. 
 But you could, sir! And it is
a good thing to know! Also,  I
teach you to sing the ladies! 
=Nat only smiled this time.
 That's funnier still, me singing a
serenade. 
No, no! sir! You could do it!
Then you win any lady in the
world! You want to get married,
don't you, sir? 
  I was married, =Lupe. My wife, 
is dead. 
=Lupe's smile vanished. His eyes
widened.  You win the lady? No
serenade?
 No serenade. 
 =Por =Dios! How you do it? 



The soldier lowered his rifle. =oris crouched closer to the
ground. Was he going to be beaten up? Would =Nadia and he be
flung into a concentration camp? Tears of helpless rage sprang
into his eyes. But a =German must never think that a young
=Russian was afraid. With a shaking hand he drew out the
revolver in his pocket and pointed it at the soldier. Then he
looked timidly up to see if the =German was frightened by it. But
the soldier showed no fear. He shook his head slowly from side
to side; not angrily, not frowning as you would have expected,
but only slightly surprised, as if he knew quite well that the gun
wasn't loaded. Disappointed, but also relieved, =Boris let his
hand drop.

These were foreign words that =Boris didn't
understand, but they sounded friendly, almost gentle.
Did the soldier want to know what they were doing
there?
 We wanted to get potatoes,  said =Boris and,
because the =German probably didn't understand    
=Russian, he pointed to the row of trees in the distance
and then to his mouth. The soldier would understand    
then that they hadn't come to fight them, but only to
get food.
The soldier threw down his rifle, laid his hand on
=Boris's head, and knelt down by =Nadia. Still confused,  
=Boris looked at the rifle lying so close to his hands. 
Should he pick it up? If he was quick enough, he could  
shoot the soldier. That was what he had always 
wanted to do, to kill =Germans. Weren't
=Germans everyone's hated enemies?



and people, are related. They know
that we cannot change one part
without changing at least in a small
way, the whole. They believe that we
must think carefully before we try to
change or control any part of nature.
Many =Americans share this view.
The =Leopolds are an unusual family
because they are all doing something
to help the causes of ecology and
conservation. =Starker, =Estella, =Luna,
=Carl, and =Nina are the children of =Aldo
and =Estella =Leopold.  =Aldo =Leopold
was one of =American's pioneers
in ecology and conservation.

=Aldo =Leopold was born in =1887 in
=Burlington, =lowa. His father was a
keen hunter, and =Aldo grew up  
hunting, fishing, and loving the outdoor
life. When he grew older, it was
natural for him to go to the =Yale
=School of =Forestry. He then joined
the =United =States =Forest =Service. He
was not a conservationist when he
began work in the =Service. Like most
people who grew up in his time, he
saw the wilderness only as  
something to be used and made to yield a
profit. Forests were for lumbering;
wildlife, for hunting.
Then, in =1912, he developed a
serious illness. He was bedridden for
a year; and, during that time, his
ideas began to change. He knew that
a wilderness, forest, desert,  
mountain, or ocean, could be a resource.
But he came to believe that when we
think of it just as a resource, we  
become blind to its beauty. We fail to
see the many things that make the



And so, as everyone slept peacefully on, =Milo stood on tiptoes,
raised his arms slowly in front of him, and made the slightest
movement possible with the index finger of his right hand. It was
now =5'23 =AM.
As if understanding his signal perfectly, a single piccolo played
a single note and off in the east a solitary shaft of cool lemon
light flicked across the sky. =Milo smiled happily and then
cautiously crooked his finger again. This time two more piccolos
and a flute joined in and three more rays of light danced lightly
into view. Then with both hands he made a great circular sweep in
the air and watched with delight as all the musicians began to play
at once. The cellos made the hills glow red, and the leaves and
grass were tipped with a soft pale green as the violins began their
song. Only the bass fiddles rested as the entire orchestra washed
the forest in color.  =Milo was overjoyed because they were all
playing for him, and just the way they should.
Won't =Chroma be suprised?  he thought, signaling the musicians
to stop. I'll wake him now. 
But, instead of stopping, they continued to play even louder than
before, until each color became more brilliant than he thought
possible.  =Milo shielded his eyes with one hand and waved the
other desperately, but the colors continued to grow brighter and
brighter and brighter, until an even more curious thing began to
happen. As =Milo frantically conducted, the sky changed slowly from
blue to tan and then to a rich magenta red. Flurries of light-green
snow began to fall, and the leaves on the trees and bushes turned
a
vivid orange. All the flowers suddenly appeared black, the gray
rocks became a lovely soft chartreuse, and even peacefully sleeping
=Tock changed from brown to a magnificent ultramarine. Nothing was
the color it should have been, and yet, the more he tried to
straighten things out, the worse th~y became.
 I wish  I hadn't started,  he thought unhappily as a pale-blue
blackbird flew by. There doesn't seem to be any way to stop them. 
He tried very hard to do everything just the way =Chroma had
done, but nothing worked. The musicians played on, faster and
faster, and the purple sun raced quickly across the sky. In less
than a minute it had set once more in the west and then, without
any pause, risen again in the east. The sky was now quite yellow
and the grass a



eye to have a watch-repair shop
under an el train in =American. 
While he worked =Keplik never felt
lonely, for there were always  
customers cOming in with clocks and
watches and complaints.
 My watch was supposed to be
ready last week,  a customer would
say.  I need my watch! Will you
have it ready by tonight, =Keplik? 
And =Keplik would answer,  Maybe
yes, maybe no. It depends on how
many el trains pass by during the
rush hour.  And he would point his
finger up toward the =el structure
above.
But when =Keplik grew very old,
he had to give up watch repairing,
for he could no longer climb up and
down the three flights of stairs to his
apartment. He became very lonely,
for there were no longer any  
customers to visit him and complain.
And his hands felt empty and  
useless for there were no longer any
gears or pivots or hairsprings or
mainsprings to repair.  Terrible, 
said =Keplik, to himself.  I'm too
young to be old. I will take up a
hobby. Perhaps  I should build a
clock out of walnut shells. Or make
a rose garden out of red crepe
paper and green silk. Or make a
windmill out of wooden matchsticks.
I'll see what  I have in the house. 
There were no walnuts and no
crepe paper, but there were lots and
lots of burned matchsticks, for, in
those days, the gas stoves had to



Once there came a youth from a far part of =Greece into the
country that =Atalanta's father ruled over. Hippomenes was his
name. He did not know of the race, but having come into the city
and seeing the crowd of people, he went with them to the course;
=He looked upon the youths who were girded for the race, and he.
heard the folk say amongst themselves,  Poor youths, as mighty
and as high-spirited as they look, by sunset freedom will be lost
for each of them, for =Atalanta will run past them as she ran past
the others.  =Then =Hippomenes spoke to the folk in wonder, and
they told him of =Atalanta's race and of what would befall the
youths who were defeated in it.  Unlucky youths, cried =Hippomenes,

how foolish they are to try to win a bride at the price of their
freedom!  Then, with pity in his heart, he watched the youths
prepare for the race. =Atalanta had not yet taken her place, and he
was fearful of looking upon her.  She is a sorcerer,  he said to
himself;  she must be a sorcerer to deprive so many youths of their
freedom, and she, no doubt, will show in her face and figure the
sorcerer's spirit. 
But even as he said this, =Hippomenes saw =Atalanta. She stood
with the youths, before they crouched for the first dart in the
race. He saw that she was a girl of a light and a lovely form. Then
they crouched for the race; then the trumpets rang out, and the
youths  and the maiden darted like swallows over the sand of the
course. On came =Atalanta, far, far ahead of the youths who had
started with her. Over her shoulders her hair streamed, blown
backward by the wind that met her flight. Her fair neck shone, as
her feet were like =Qying doves. On and on she went as swift as the
arrow that the =Scythian shoots from the bow. And as he watched the
race, he was not sorry that the youths were being left behind.
Rather would he have been enraged if one came near overtaking her,
for now his heart was set upon winning her for his bride, and he
cursed himself for not having entered the race.
She passed the last goal mark and she was given the victor's
wreath of flowers. =Hippomenes stood and watched her and he did
not see the youths who had started with her, they had thrown
themselves on the ground in their despair.
&&000 SCRIBNER  (Macmillan)  (1987)  7TH GRADE      SCR9877T.ASC
FOLLOW THE WIND  by Jack Cassidy et at
Scribner Reading Series Level 15 
Source: SUNY Cortland xerox, scan and edited by DPH 12-26-92

&&111

Oh dear, I thought. Then my mind went back to something
he had said earlier:  If you wanted someone to talk to, I said,
 why didn't you keep my father? He knows many more  
interesting things than I do. 
=Mmm,  said the =Beast.  I'm afraid I specifically wanted a
girl. 
Oh?  I said nervously.  Why? 
He turned away from me, walked back to the doorway, and
stood, head bowed, hands clasped behind him. The silence
squeezed at my heart.  I am looking for a wife,  he said, heavily.
 Will you marry me, =Beauty? 
My fear, which I had had mostly under control, boiled up
again and became panic.  Oh!  I said.  What shall I say? 
Answer yes or no without fear,  said the =Beast without
raising his head.
 Oh no, =Beast,  I cried. I wanted to run away, but I thought
of him chasing after me, and I stayed where I was.
There was a long, stricken pause.  Very well,  he said at
last.  I will bid you good night. Sleep easily, 
Beauty: Remember, you have nothing to fear. 
I didn't move.  Well, go on, he said gruffly, with a wave of
one arm.  I know you are longing to escape. I shan't follow
you.  He walked into his room, and the door began to close.
Good night,  I called. The door paused a moment, and
then shut with a soft click. I turned and ran back down the
corridor the way I had come.


wounds in the Isle of =Avalon. 
But, but ma'am, that would make you 
=Thirteen =hundred years old,  the queen said coldly.  You
do not think I would be such an undutiful wife as to die before
my husband returned to me? 
Captain =Hughes did not look as if he had any thoughts or
the subject at all. He stared at the queen with glazed eyes.
=Dido stared, too. Never before had she seen a lady thirteen
=hundred years old. Queen =Ginevra certainly was very fat. She
must have been getting fatter and fatter all those =hundreds of
years, =Dido reflected. Doesn't look as if she walked about much.
Or went out in the fresh air.
The queen's skin was pale and soft, like white bread dough.
She lolled back wearily against her pillows.
Lucky she isn't bald, =Dido thought.
An abundance of limp, rather greasy, yellowish-white hair
was swept back from the queen's brow and confined by a
diamond-studded snood. Like =Queen =Victoria, she had very little
chin, but her eyes, large as poached eggs, made up for that, 
they were extremely sharp and gave the impression that they
observed all that went on, not only in front of the queen but
also to the side and behind her. They observed, but they held
no expression; they were like birds eyes. The short fingers of
her small, fat hands were loaded with rings.
 The =Battle of =Dyrham was fought in the winter,  =Queen
=Ginevra went on.  After my husband had been conveyed away
by his aunts, the lake, =Arianrod, very fortunately froze. So we
were able to bring it with us to =New =Cumbria. 
 Bring it with you, ma'am? The lake? 
 In the form of ice blocks, as ballast,  she answered rather
impatiently.  Had it been liquid, of course the task would have
been by no means so easy. 
By no means,  Captain =Hughes echoed faintly.
Of course you will appreciate the necessity of bringing the lake. 



about me, =Menolly thought and
pulled her knees up under the chin,
but her toes and elbows protruded
from under the overhang.
Suddenly a bronze fire lizard  
materialized above the clutch, squeaking
worriedly. =Menolly saw the queen
swooping to join him, so the queen
must have been on the top of the
ledge, waiting, just waiting for  
=Menolly to break cover.
And to think I made up a pretty
tune about you, =Menolly thought, as
she watched the two lizards hovering
over the eggs. The last tune I ever
made up. You're ungrateful, that's
what you are!
Despite her discomfort, =Menolly
had to laugh. What an impossible  
situation! Held under a cramped ledge
by a creature no bigger than her  
forearm.
At the sound of her laughter, the
two fire lizards disappeared.
Frightened, were they? Of  
laughter?
 A smile wins more than a
frown,  =Mavi was fond of saying.
Maybe if I keep laughing, they'll
know I'm friendly? Or get scared
away long enough for me to climb
up? Saved by a laugh?
=Menolly began to chuckle in  
earnest, for she had also seen that the
tide was corming in rather quickly. She
eased out of her shelter, flung the
carry-sack over her shoulder, and
started to climb. But it proved  
impossible to chuckle and climb. She
needed breath for both.
Abruptly both the little queen and
the bronze were back to harry her,
flying at her head and face. The  
fragile looking wings were dangerous
when used as a weapon.
No longer laughing, =Menolly
ducked back under her ledge,  
wondering what to do next.


him to learn there would be no more challenge and no more 
failure. And it was pretty just to stop thinking and fly through
the dark toward the lights above the beach.
Dark! The hollow voice cracked in alarm. Seagulls never fly in the
dark!
=Jonathan was not alert to listen It's pretty he thought. Th
moon and the lights twinkling on the water throwing out little
beacon-trails through the =night1 and all so peaceful and still.  

Get down! Seagulls never fly in the dark! If you were mean
to fly in the dark you d have the eyes of an owl! You'd have chart
for brains! You d have a falcon's short wings!
There in the night a =hundred feet in the air =Jonathan 
=Livingston =Seagull, blinked.  His pain his resolutions vanished
=Short wings =A falcon's short wings!
That's the answer! What a fool I've been! All I need is a tin
little wing all I need is to fold most of my wings and fly on just
the tips alone! Short wings!
He climbed two =thousand feet above the black sea and  
without a moment for thought of failure and death he brought his |
forewings tightly in to his body, left only the narrow swept
daggers
of his wingtips extended into the wind and fell into a vertical
dive.
The wind was a monster roar at his head. =Seventy miles per
hour =ninety a =hundred and twenty and faster still =The
wing-strain
now at a =hundred and =forty miles per hour wasn't nearly as hard
as it had been before at =seventy and with the faintest twist of 
wingtips he eased out of the dive and shot above the waves a 
cannonball under the moon
He closed his eyes to slits against the wind and rejoiced. 
=hundred =forty miles per hour! And under control! If I dive from
five =thousand feet instead of two =thousand I wonder how fast .
His vows of a moment before were forgotten swept away in
that great swift wind. Yet he felt guiltless breaking the promises
he had made himself. Such promises are only for the gulls that
accept the ordinary.  =One who has touched excellence in his
learning
has no need of that kind of promise.

My father was a sturdily built
man, and he became heavier as he
grew older. He sported a bristly
=Charlie =Chaplin mustache. He never
learned much =English, so he always
spoke to us in =Japanese. I could  
understand him, but I couldn't express
myself in =Japanese, so I replied in
=English. This is the way most  
=Japanese-American families  
communicated, and we got along quite well.
I could never seem to penetrate
my father's gruff exterior, and I
feared him as much as I loved him. I
can't ever remember hearing him
praise me. Whenever I did anything
well, he simply said he expected me
to do better the next time, and  
eventually I came to understand that this
was his way. When I was sixteen
years old I picked a =hundred pound
sack of rice off the floor and held it
up over my head, the way a weight
lifter lifts barbells. This was a feat of
strength recognized among =Japanese
families as a sign that a lad had
reached manhood. If =Dad was proud,
he didn't show any sign. But later
=Mother told me how really happy he
was. About the same time, I defeated
my father for the first time at arm
wrestling. We sat at the kitchen table
facing each other. With elbows down
on the table, we locked right hands
and each tried to force the other's
arm down. I was surprised at how
easily I defeated him, for =Dad had a
reputation for physical strength. He
was proud that I was growing strong,
and I felt sad that he was getting old,
but neither of us said anything. Our
relationship was such that we seldom
voiced our thoughts to each other,
and I suppose that's the way he was
brought up.

With my mother, the relationship
was altogether different. She was a
tiny woman, no more than five feet
two inches tall, but she was blessed
with enormous vitality. She had a
beautiful, heart-shaped face. She was
gentle; not once did she ever strike
me, although I deserved punishment
frequently, and I don't recall that she
ever raised her voice to me. But she
had a way of talking to me when I
did wrong; these talks usually left me
weeping in remorse.

=Mother had an understanding of
young people that was extremely  
unusual in the =Japanese immigrant  
generation. =Dad was strict and stern. He
wanted to rear his children the way
he had been brought up.  =Mother was
wise enough to know that =American
children could not be reared like  
=Japanese children, that we were products
of the new world and we required
freedom. Eventually I came to realize



the safest thing would be to shoot him 
That seems a little drastic the  
administrator replied. What's he done
that's so bad?
He won't do any of his tricks.  He's
developed a mean streak. I wouldn't be
surprised to see him leap out of the pool
and snap up a child. 
Oh come now said the  
administrator. Aren't you being a little  
dramatic? He went after the whole first row
of spectators today.  He deliberately
started a panic. All he had to do was
reach and pluck up one of those  
squalling kids. 
But did he? 
No. What I m saying is he could
have. And with this personality change
I can't guarantee what may happen. 
What personality change? 
I've just been telling you, he's
turned mean! He used to be all  
friendliness and now he spits in my eye every
time he gets a chance! He's anti-people!
The only thing he'll let near him is that
silly seagull and one of these days he's
going to snap that bird right out of the
air!  
 It seems to me  the administrator
said slowly  that you're dreaming up a
lot of problems just because you can't
make him do your tricks.
 I'm dreaming up the problems? 
the trainer shouted.  I am? Were you out
there today? Did you see what he did?
No I've been busy counting the
money he s made.  Well you're going to need every
nickel of it once he eats a child. There
won t be enough money in the world to
pay for the lawsuits. 



=Connotations

painted, with twisting, boldly colored restless lines. 

The paint is put roughly on the canvas. 

These excerpts from  Looking at Faces   describe the way  
=Vincent van =Gogh painted to produce special feelings. These words
create an image in your mind of how van =Gogh painted. In many
ways, writers are like artists. Unlike artists, however, writers
use words rather than paint to obtain desired feelings. Certain
words are very well suited to this purpose. They have the power to
arouse feelings such as anger or joy. Like the vivid brush strokes
of the artist, words can bring about desired emotions.
You have probably come across many such words in your  
reading. Hero and coward are examples. We say that words such as
these have a particular connotation, that is, they bring to mind
feelings or judgments that go beyond the word's dictionary
definition .
A word may have a positive connotation such as hero, or a  
negatlve connotation such as coward. Some words are considered  
neutral. Of course, what a word connotes, or brings to mind, may
vary from one person to another. Most people, however, would
probably agree on the following connotations.



In just one day, the hero in this story experiences the thrill
of defying the odds many times. This adventurer has found the
secret of success. Where did =Walter =Mitty's adventures take
place? In what roles does =Walter =Mitty see himself?
 We're going through!  The =Commander's voice was like
thin ice breaking. He wore his full-dress uniform, with the
heavily braided white cap pulled down rakishly over one cold
gray eye.
 We can't make it, sir. It's spoiling for a hurricane, if you
ask me. 
 I'm not asking you, =Lieutenant =Berg,  said the  
=Commander.  Throw on the power light! Rev her up to =8'500!
We're going through!  =The pounding of the cylinders  
increased: =ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa. The
=Commander stared at the ice forming on the pilot window. He
walked over and twisted a row of complicated dials.  Switch
on Number =8 auxiliary!  he shouted.
 Switch on Number =8 auxiliary!  repeated =Lieutenant =Berg.
 Full strength in Number =3 turret! 
The crew, bending to their various tasks in the huge,
hurtling eight-engined =Navy hydroplane, looked at each other
and grinned.  The =Old =Man'll get us through,  they said to
one another.  The =Old =Man's not afraid of anything.    
Not so fast! You're driving too fast!  said Mrs =Mitty.
 What are you driving so fast for? 
=Hmm?  said =Walter =Mitty. He looked at his wife, in the
seat beside him, with shocked astonishment. She seemed
grossly unfamiliar, like a strange woman who had yelled at
him in a crowd.
 You were up to =fifty-five,  she said.  You know I don't
like to go more than =forty. You were up to =fifty-five. 



could get a better look at things. Then
he reached up with one of hi.s long
arms and scratched his head. When I
saw him do that, I thought of my
grandpa. He was always scratching his
head when he had something heavy
on his mind
Rowdy,  I whispered, I believe
that monkey knows the trap is there
and he s trying to figure out how he
can get the apple and not get caughlt.
I don't think he can do it I don't care
How wrong I was.
As if he had solved the problem
and was tickled to death about it, the
big monkey turned a few somersaults.
He stopped and started straight at my
hiding place. Then he let out another
one of those squalls before he
reached down and picked up a long
stick from the ground. Holding the
stick out in front of him, still uttering
those deep grunts, he started beating
at the apple as if he was killing a
snake.
I almost jumped out of, my 
britches when I heard the trap snap.
I sat in a trance and watched that  
=hundred-dollar monkey spring every one
of my traps the same way. Every time
a trap snapped, he would look straight
at my hiding place and squall.
He didn't use his teeth to tear the
apples from the triggers. He simply
used his fingers and untied the knots
in the strings.
There was one thing I could say
for that monkey. He wasn't only smart.
he was very polite, too =He saw to it
that the little monkeys got their share
of each apple.
After it was all over and the  
monkeys had again disappeared in the
treetops, I looked to =Rowdy for some
kind of under.standing. I didn t get any
help from him. He was just lying there
with his long ears sticking straight up,
looking at me as if he were the most
surprised hound dog in the world.




   This time they had come to stay.
What could we do now? Could we lure them deeper in
the forest and kill them? Could we take their weapons and
learn how to use them?
No, I thought despiritly. There were so many more
the invaders on the ship. And more weapons. They 
would come out and hunt us down like animals. They would hunt 
us down and kill us all.
I sighed. We must find out what it was that they wanted
this time and whatever it might be, we must learn to adjust
and to hope for the best.
But I still retreated silently before them, afraid to a
approach. I watched them search the ground ahead of them a
knew they were looking for footprints, for some signs of life.
But there was not yet enough snow on the ground to track
down.
Their strangely colored eyes glanced about warily. They
were cautious, yes.
They could be cruel, I knew. I had seen with my own eyes
how they treated their animals and even their own kind.
I sighed again. Yes, we could be cruel, too. In this respect
we could not claim to be superior to the invaders.
They pauscd now in a clearing, their eyes gleaming beneath their
helmets.
lt was time for me to approach them.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the open.
Their weapons quickly pointed at me.  Welcome, I said.
&&000 SCOTT, FORESMAN (1981)   7TH GRADE            SF19817T.ASC
LEVEL 12,   WITH THE WORKS by Ira E. Aaron et al
Source: Hobart WS xerox scan edit by DPH    February 12, 1993

&&111



Some people of =Africa believe that before you give anything to
anyone you should first carefully think out what your gift will
mean to the person. A gift is a great responsibility to the giver,
they say, and after they have said that they may tell you the story
of =Arap =Sang and the =Cranes.
=Arap =Sang was a great chief and more than half a god, for in
the days when he lived great chiefs were always a little mixed up
with the gods. One day he was walking on the plain admiring the
cattle.
It was hot. The rains had not yet come; the ground was almost
bare of grass and as hard as stone; the thorn trees gave no shade
for they were just made of long spines and thin twigs and tiny
leaves, and the sun went straight through them.
It was hot. Only the black ants didn't feel it, and they would
be happy in a furnace.
The sun beat down on =Arap =Sang's bald head.  He was
sensitive about this and didn't like it mentioned.  And he
thought:  I'm feeling things more than I used to. 
And then he came across a vulture sitting in the crook of a
tree, his wings hanging down and his eyes on the lookout.
Vulture,  said =Arap =Sang,  I'm hot and the sun is making my
head ache. You have there a fine pair of broad wings. I'd be most
grateful if you'd spread them out and let me enjoy a patch of
shade. 
Why?  croaked =Vulture. He had indigestion. Vultures usually
have indigestion; it's the things they eat.
 Why?  said =Arap =Sang mildly.  Now that's a question to
which I'm not certain that I've got the answer. Why? Why, I
suppose, because I ask you. Because it wouldn't be much trouble
to you. Because it's pleasant and good to help people. 
 =Bah!  said =Vulture.



posse returning from another chase. In their attempt to escape,
they split up, each bandit taking one gold bar. Two of them were
caught and their gold recovered, but the third man vanished into
the desert. 
This third man,  =Dad picked up the story,  a young fellow
from the =East named =Riley, quickly got himself lost, and then his
horse went lame; he had to abandon it, taking only his canteen,
what little food he had, and the gold bar. But he was in poor
health, suffering from slow tuberculosis. After a few miles under
that desert sun, he knew he had to get rid of that =thirty-pound
gold bar. He looked around for a good hiding place. 
And now he got smart,  I cut in.  He was lost and had no idea
where he was. But he knew that if he hid the bar near some easily
identified landmark, he could make a map of his wanderings from
that point on. Then if he did get out he could retrace his steps.
He spotted a large, upright chunk of rock shaped something like a
sitting cat and buried the gold bar at the base of it. 
The highway stretched ahead of us like an arrow, straight and
smooth. Dad leaned back at the wheel and relaxed.  Young =Riley
managed to find water and escape the desert, but he was in bad
shape when he reached =San =Francisco. He recovered enough to
work at odd jobs for a couple of years, but he wasn't strong
enough for a trip into the desert. Besides, he was too well known
in that mining district to risk being seen. Finally, his lungs gave
out, and he died in a rooming house in =San =Francisco. 
I took up the story.  =Riley's landlady was good to him,
keeping him on for weeks after his money ran out. So just before
he died he told her about the robbery and gave her his map. But
since he was half-delirious at the time, she didn't put much faith
in his story. However, she did put the map in a safe place and
then forgot about it for twenty years. 
=Dad whistled softly.  Twenty years. Then when she was near
death, she gave the map to her daughter, along with =Riley's story
as accurately as she could remember it. Her daughter decided to
check out =Riley's strange deathbed recital. She went to the mining
town where the action had begun and carefully inquired around.
Yes, there had been a stage holdup twenty-two years before; and
yes, a young fellow named =Riley had escaped with a gold bar.
Quietly she hired a local man as a guide and for weeks searched
for the cat rock, with no success. Finally she gave up, returned to
=San =Francisco, and was never heard from again. 



It used to be that when
young =Patty =Wilson ran, her
arms and legs flopped like a
rag doll's. She couldn't even
throw a ball.
Many children are clumsy
because their muscles are not
developed. But =Patty felt her
lack of skill more deeply than
other children might. She came
from a family of athletes, a
world of bowling, basketball,
handball, and tennis.
 I felt left out,  =Patty says,  I
took dancing and thought that
would help. They talked sports,
and I didn't understand what
they were talking about. 
At first, =Patty began to run a
mile with her father, =Jim, who
was always by her side
watching. Their runs were mild
and innocent, the least of
challenges for a child lacking
athletic ability. But there was
one more element in a race
over obstacles: =Patty has
epilepsy. Her handicap became
part of the fabric of =Patty's later
marathon triumph.
Her first modest  
achievement came when she ran from
her home in =La =Palma,
=California, to her grandparents
home in =Los =Angeles. Patty was
=13; the distance was =30 miles.



would be enhanced by claiming the gold medal, offered in =1831
by =Frederic =VI, =King of =Denmark, to the discoverer of a
telescopic comet.

After a year, =Maria received her gold medal, the first winning of
the medal by an =American and the first time ever by a woman.
The discovery of the comet was reported in newspapers and other
publications.

The comet did more than bring =American astronomy into the
news. It served to show that astronomy, like most =American
science at the time, was undeveloped. The comet had been an
=American discovery, but quality and amount of =European
observation remained superior. A need for a broader =American
astronomy began to be recognized.

Hence, the =Mitchells turned their attention to this field.

Recognition by scientific societies began coming to =Maria. In
=1848, she became the first woman elected to the =American
=Academy of =Arts and =Sciences, and in =1850, after being proposed
by =Louis =Agassiz, was elected to the recently founded
=Association for the =Advancement of =Science.

Lecturing visitors to =Nantucket Island included =Ralph =Waldo
=Emerson, =William =Ellery =Channing, =Theodore =Parker, and
=Horace =Greeley. Maria was well-read in the arts, enjoyed poetry,
and read =Paradise =Lost, seeking =Milton's view on astronomy.

She also read of the struggle for women's rights and met many of
the early enthusiasts. Maria sympathized with their cause, and
they looked on her as an example of free and independent  
womanhood, already esteemed and honored.

In =1859, a five-inch equatorial telescope designed by =Alvan
=Clark was given =Maria by the  =Women of =American.  It allowed
her to make her observations with greater accuracy. She observed
and wrote, publishing articles on her observations, the eclipse of
=1860, =Mars, comets, meteors, and sunspots.



But the first time =Lecia returned with firewood, she saw the
thermos bottle half out. She jerked it from the hole. The milk was
all gone, and across the little fire =Olive stared at her teacher. 
It was mine,  the girl said flatly. So the time had come when the
little food left must be hidden. Now, with all but =Olive sleeping,
was the time. All the third day there was watching out of the smoke
hole for the sky that never appeared. When night finally came
without star or stillness, even =Lecia, who had tried to prepare
herself for this eventuality, felt that she could not face another
day of blizzard. 
=Maggie no longer sat up now, and both =Joanie and =Eddie were
sick. The fourth day was like the rest, colder, with the same white
storm outside, the children hunching silent upon themselves
inside. Sometimes a small one sobbed a little in sickness and
hunger, but it was no more than a soft moaning now, even when
=Lecia divided most of the little food that was left. The children,
even =Chuck, took it like animals, and then sat silent again, the
deep-socketed eyes watching, some slyly gnawing at willow sticks
and roots hidden in the palm.
Everybody around the fire was coughing and fevered now, it
seemed to =Lecia. Quarrels began. Only =Maggie with her poor feet
was quiet, and =Olive, sitting as though stunned or somewhere far
away. The teacher knew that she should do something for this
girl, only eight, yet apparently so self-contained. Too weary to
think about it, and knowing she must keep awake in the night,
=Lecia stretched out for a nap.
When she awoke, =Olive was sitting exactly the same, but the
places of =Chuck and =Eddie were empty, =Eddie out in the blizzard
after his night of sweating. Then the boys returned with wood,
weak, dragging, almost frozen, and with something that =Lecia had
to be told outside. There seemed to be only one willow clump left.
Friday moming the sun came out toward ten o'clock, a cold,
pale disk, with the snow still running along the earth, running
higher than the shelter or =Chuck, shutting out everything except
the veiled sun. The boy came in, looked around the starved,
listless circle, at the fire, at the teacher too, with her face
gaunt and sooty now. He laid two red-tipped matches, half of all he
had, in =Lecia's lap.  I'm getting out,  he said. Without a protest
from anyone he crawled through the hole and was gone.



At both places =Mike did his best to tell the simple truth as he
had seen it. He told them that some had struck it rich and some had
not. He explained that the good claims had already been staked.
And he told them that any healthy person could make money in
=Dawson without ever going near a claim. At =Stewart the people had
been happy with honest facts. At =Selkirk they wanted to hear the
extravagant. They were plainly disappointed when his reports failed
to match their expectations.

=Mike thought it queer that people in one place should want facts,
while those in another wanted fairy tales. But he did not yet
understand the difference between the unpeopled miles that
separated the two places.

By the time he got underway the temperature had sunk to =forty
below zero. Before he was half a mile on his way, the chin guard on
his parka was heavy with icicles. The dogs muzzles were puffballs
of brittle ice. The cold held for twelve days.

On the trip between =Selkirk and =Lake =Laberge, =Mike ran into big
ice jams on the =Yukon =River. It took all his strength and  
understanding of the trail to survive and plod ahead. Yet =Mike was
lucky. In all the hard days of travel he didn't fall through the
ice, get wet, have trouble with his dogs, or suffer any mishap at
all.

After a while, scattered tents and cabins gave =Mike a hint of what
lay ahead. But it was not until he reached the =Mounted =Police
post at =Tagish =Lake that he learned how great the gold rush had
become. Five =thousand gold-seekers, both men and women, had
already arrived at =Bennett =Lake. White =Pass was almost  
impassable. Other people were climbing =Chilkoot =Pass despite a
blizzard that had been raging for many days. The snow in the pass
lay =thirty feet deep.

Outside the town of =Tagish, =Mike met weather far more brutal than
any he had yet seen. When =Mike got to =Bennett =Lake he stopped at
the first  hotel  he came to. It was a small shack where he fed the
dogs and had moose meat and fried beans for supper. For
freighting and doing odd jobs in =Dawson, =Mike had been paid in
gold dust. Since he had neither silver nor paper money with him,
he paid for his meal with the gold dust. It had an astonishing



Maybe that's it. I smoothed the paper out on the =Dea.
See the signature and the time. It's a sentence. Be sharp.
For before. Did you do anything to =Harrison he might want
revenge for? 
Well,  she hesitated.  We emptied his =Christmas stocking
and took all the name tags off his presents. He thought he'd
received nothing. 
 Okay so maybe he planned hiding your jewels as his
revenge. 
My mind raced. I could almost hear the puzzle clicking
together. Aunt =Lyd stared at me, stunned.
 The jewels? How do you deduce the jewels are involved? 



Okay, where's the film?  the man asked =Uncle =Ted.
The film! =Sue's heart skipped a beat. She felt her pocket
guiltily. So that's what they were after! She'd better hide it, and
fast! What could be on that film?
=Sue closed the door of her room after her. Where would be the
best hiding place? She looked around, at her walls decorated with
colorful travel posters and maps, at the clutter on the maple
dresser, desk, and night table. She rejected all the obvious hiding
places. The tiger had been the best place. She should have left
the film there.
Bang! Crash! The noises from downstairs sounded as if the
house were being wrecked. =Sue opened her door a crack.
 Anything yet?  asked =Husky-voice, obviously the leader.
 Finding the film is like looking for a needle in a haystack, 
grumbled the other.  Maybe he never got it out of the country. 
 We have to be sure. There's still upstairs to search. 
 Maybe the kid knows something,  
 Say, maybe you're right. Untie =Brenner and let's find out. 
=Sue closed the door and looked around desperately. Her eyes
roamed the items on top of her dresser, purse, small wooden
chest, camera, =Sue stared at the camera for a second. It was
worth a try.
Quickly, she slipped the film from the box in her pocket. She
took the film out of her own camera, replaced it with =Uncle =Ted's
film, and put her own film in the box. She slid the box back into
her pocket just as her door was flung open.
The tall man was first, a rope in his hands. Uncle =Ted's hands
were tied.  Leave the girl alone,  =Uncle =Ted said, as they tied
him
to a chair.  She doesn't know anything. 
 We'll search the room,  =Husky-voice said.
Search the room! Trying to look anywhere but at the camera,
=Sue's eyes went to her desk. There, right on top of the blotter,
was
=Uncle =Ted's message! Sue suddenly felt weak in the knees.
 What's the matter, kid?  =Husky-voice followed =Sue's eyes to the
desk.
He read the note.  Well, well, the tiger in the hall! So that's
where it is! Do you know how to open the tiger?  he barked at =Sue.
Sue hesitated.
 Well, do you? 
=Sue nodded.



My confidence started draining out of my toes the day =Angela
=Brady showed up at the pool for workout. I even started to chew
the inside of my cheek, a nervous habit I usually reserve for
fighting the fear that clutches at me just before a race. In a way,
I guess I knew it was a race between =Angela and me for a position
on our team relay for the =National =Championship.
I hadn't even seen her swim yet, but the whole team knew
she had been swimming for a famous club in =California. We
were a small city team, only two years old. But we had a coach
whose middle name was motivation. He'd motivated me into
swimming a grueling three miles a day, and now I was actually
in the running to compete at the =Nationals. Or I was until
=Angela showed up.
 Okay, swimmers, hit the water for an =800-meter freestyle
warm-up!  barked =Coach =Rosenstein. Then he added,  =Angela,
why don't you try lane four today? 
Lane four was the fast lane, my lane. I had to earn my place
in that lane by swimming =400 meters in less than five minutes.
Now all =Angela had to do was jump in. It wasn't fair.
I didn't think I could pretend friendliness, so I started the =800
before =Angela hit the water. I didn't even have time to settle
into my pace when I felt the water agitating behind me. I stroked
harder, but I could still feel the churning water of someone
closing in on me. I soon felt a light touch on my foot.
In swim workouts, it's one of the rules that when a teammate
taps your foot, you move to the right to let that swimmer go
ahead of you. I knew that, and I also knew that I was interfering
with =Angela's pace by not letting her pass me. My conscience
told me to move over, but my stubbornness kept my body in the
middle of the lane.



The group followed the  
mastering engineer into the mastering
room. They watched him put
their tape on a tape recorder.

Then the engineer showed them
a plate two inches bigger than
a finished phonograph record.
One side of the plate was  
aluminum. The other side was covered
with smooth black plastic. This
plate is called a lacquer. The
man placed it on the tumtable
of the record-cutting machine.

He adjusted the angular cutting
head. Within the head was a
cutting stylus. The sounds on
the tape would cause the stylus
to cut grooves in the lacquer.
A cutting stylus is made of sapphire and costs several =thousand
dollars. The stylus is cooled by helium as the record is cut.

Also, as the grooves are cut, a spiral of plastic curls up. This
is called chip. The chip is carried away by a small vacuum tube
attached to the stylus.



=Ausable did not fit any description of a secret agent =Fowler
had ever read. Following him down the hall of the gloomy =French
hotel where =Ausable had a room, =Fowler felt let down. It was a
small room, on the sixth and top floor. It was scarcely a setting
for a figure of romantic adventure. But =Ausable, in his wrinkled
business suit badly in need of cleaning, could hardly be called a
romantic figure. He was, for one thing, fat. Very fat. And then
there was his accent. Though he spoke =French and =German passably,
he had never altogether lost the =New =England twang he had brought
to =Paris from =Boston twenty years before.
 You are disappointed,  =Ausable said wheezily over his
shoulder.  You were told that I was a secret agent, a spy, dealing
in espionage and danger. You wished to meet me because you are
a writer, young with your head in the clouds. You envisioned
mysterious figures in the night, secret wiretaps, clever disguises.




&&000 SCOTT, FORESMAN (1985)  7TH GRADE READER   SF19857T.ASC
WONDERS AND WINNERS  by Allington,. Richard, L et al. 1985
Grade 7 1985

Source: Elmira College xeroxed, scanned and edited by DPH 12-18-92

&&111
On =Sunday, =March =14, =1982, the people of =Fort
=Wayne, =Indiana knew they had a problem, but
nobody knew just how bad it was. By =Monday the
seriousness of the situation was becoming clear. Either
somebody had to do something, and fast, or the city
would be under water.
The Street =Joseph and Street =Mary rivers were rising
rapidly. The ground, still frozen from a long hard
winter, could not absorb another drop. Along the
rivers, the pressure of the water weakened the dikes
that stood between the city of =180'000 people and
disaster. When water begins to leak through a soaked
dike, the dike is said to be weeping. By the middle of
March, =1982, the dikes all over =Fort =Wayne were
weeping.
There was only one hope. If the dikes could be
reinforced by sandbags, then it might be possible to
hold back the raging rivers and save the city. But
how could this be done? It would take =thousands and
=thousands of sandbags to do the job and each one
had to be filled, hauled, and stacked. The number of
people needed for such a task was tremendous. But
fortunately, =Fort =Wayne was able to tap into a
source of energy much greater than anyone knew
existed, teen power.
The call for help went through the city, but no
one group responded with more eagerness than the
young people of =Fort =Wayne. They came by bus, car,


tower to tower, would be sixteen =hundred feet. Too
long, many said. If the high winds didn't flip the
bridge over, they would probably tear it apart. Worse,
=Roebling wanted to use steel in his bridge. Steel was
not used in construction then. People were sure it
would be too weak and the bridge would splinter at
the first pressure of the high tides that sometimes
wracked the river.
=Roebling persisted. He showed the plans to
experts. He answered every question and objection.
Finally, on =June =25, =1869, approval was given.
By now =Roebling's son, =Washington, , was also a
civil engineer. Three days after the approval, father
and son stood on the ferry dock in =Brooklyn to study
where the =Brooklyn tower would be placed. John
=Roebling lost his footing and his toes were crushed.
Doctors tried to help him. But he was stubborn and
refused their help. Because =Roebling refused, he died
sixteen days after the accident. =Washington,  was left to
carry on the work.
Like his father, =Washington,  cared about one thing:
the bridge. He worked day and night. He and his
wife, =Emily, lived very near the bridge site.
There was nowhere on the construction site that
=Washington,  would not go. Over and over again he
went deep into the caissons. Workers inside these
watertight compartments were digging out the river
bottom. The caissons were sunk into bedrock to hold
up the bridge towers.



At last they had five men safely on shore and
there was only the captain to come. Then he, too, left
the ship and they hauled again. He was a big man
who weighed down the rope. Hideaway and
=Fingerbone were almost exhausted. Suddenly the rope
grew taut, shuddered, and slackened.
"Quick," =Hideaway cried. "The boat is shifting."
=Storm =Boy seized the pulling rope and hauled.
"Hurry," yelled the captain. "She's going."
One or two of the crewmen who could still walk
grabbed the line and helped to pull. Among them all
they slowly hauled the captain ashore and dragged
him, pale and half drowned, onto the beach.
"Saved!" he kept saying weakly. "Saved by a
miracle and a pelican."


If ever there were a born showman, it was =Phineas
=Taylor =Barnum.  =Barnum was born on =July =5, =1810, in
=Bethel, =Connecticut. Even as a boy, =Barnum enjoyed
thinking up new ways to have fun or make money.
=Barnum was also a hard worker. He proved that
when he went to work as a shop clerk to support his
family after his father died in =1825. In the next few
years =Barnum worked at a number of jobs. By the
time he was twenty-one, he was the publisher of a
newspaper.
Later =Barnum moved to =New =York =City. There, in
=1842, he opened his =American =Museum, which
became the most well-known collection of interesting
and unusual things in the country. For twenty-six
years, people flocked to the museum.
In =1850 =Barnum arranged for =Jenny =Lind, the
"=Swedish =Nightingale" and the most famous singer of
her time, to tour =American. Her concerts delighted
people everywhere.
But these attractions were just the beginning. For,
like any great showman, =Barnum saved his best act
for last. He called it "=The =Greatest =Show on =Earth."
the first lion ever brought to =American. This was a lot
of money, he said, but it was worth it.
Still, no matter what he was doing, =Benjamin was
always an apprentice. He couldn't forget it. When he
was seventeen, he could stand it no longer. He
boarded a boat in =Boston, and on one =Sunday
morning in =October, =1723, he landed in =Philadelphia,
=Pennsylvania.
He was free! He found a job with a printer and
began earning his own money. When he had saved
enough, he bought a new suit of clothes and a watch
with a long gold watch-chain.
=Philadelphia suited young =Benjamin perfectly. He
lived on =High =Street, the busiest and noisiest street in
town. On one end of the street was the =Delaware
=River to jump into when he felt like a goat leap. On
the other end of the street was =Debbie =Read, whom
he courted and married.
=Benjamin and =Debbie were married in =1730.
=Benjamin was twenty-four years old now and getting
ahead in the world. He had his own printshop,
owned his own newspaper, and because he was such
a good printer, did the printing for the government
of =Pennsylvania.  He always used the blackest ink and
the whitest paper he could find.  In addition, =Debbie
and =Benjamin ran a store in the front of their house.
They sold books, sealing wax, pencils, maps, pictures
of birds and animals, fishnets, chocolate, compasses,
codfish, and cloth. And they always had a good
supply of Mr =Franklin's soap for sale. 


One day when =Tom =Brown was eight years old, he
met a boy named =Rick. Tom and =Rick discovered that
they both shared a great interest in nature. Within
minutes they set out to explore the woods together.
Before the day was over, =Rick had introduced =Tom to
his grandfather, =Stalking =Wolf.
Stalking =Wolf was an =Apache and an expert in
tracking. Soon he set about teaching the two eager
boys about his =Native =American way of life.
The lessons lasted eight years and covered a wide
range of different skills, such as studying tracks made
by animals and people. Tom and =Rick learned how
tracks changed under different weather conditions.
They also learned how to cover their own tracks.
When =Stalking =Wolf thought =Tom and =Rick were
ready, he tested the boys. One of the tests was to see
if the boys could cover their own trail. =Tom and =Rick
covered their tracks carefully, stepping backward and
removing any signs they had made.
Another test was the test of cold. On a cold,
snowy day, =Stalking =Wolf took the boys five miles
into woods where they had been many times. He
then left them to find their way home. As =Stalking
=Wolf left, he told =Tom and =Rick, "=Nature cannot hurt
you if you are at one with it. The cold wind is your
brother."


The earth around the mountain rumbles and
shakes. Soon fountains of fire and puffs of steam
shoot up into the air. Red-hot melted rock called lava
pours out of the top of the mountain and flows down
its sides. The sun is hidden by dark clouds of ash
and smoke. The mountain has blown its top. A
volcano is erupting.
Many people think of a volcano as one of the
wonders of the earth. But when it erupts, a volcano
can be a very frightening thing.
Since earliest times people have wondered why
volcanoes erupt. Long ago people explained the
eruptions by making up stories about powerful gods.
These stories were passed on from one family to the
next.
Today we know more about the eruptions of
volcanoes. But people are still amazed at the great
power of an eruption. Many still ask, "=Why do
volcanoes erupt?"



It was finally the day for the treasure hunt. =Willi,
=Jason, =Gloria, and the rest of their class gathered on
the front lawn of the school.
Mr =Smith explained the rules. "The treasure is
small but valuable. It can be found in the woods next
to the school. Be careful, but leave no stone unturned
as you hunt for the treasure."
The class scattered excitedly. For the next couple
of hours cries of "=Over here!" and "Let's look down
there!" could be heard. Slowly the excitement wore
off as the treasure stayed hidden. Many students gave
up the search.
"Let's stop," =Gloria moaned. "It's hopeless!"
"Treasure hunting is hard work," =Jason grumbled.
"It's got to be here somewhere," =Willi said.
Just then the group stumbled across a small pile of
rocks. "Do you remember what Mr =Smith said,
Leave no stone unturned?" =Willi shouted.
Quickly the group pulled away the rocks and
found a small iron pot. Inside the pot were passes to
an amusement park for their class. At the very
bottom was a gift certificate for food at the park. It
was for the finders of the treasure.
The three friends collapsed on the ground.
"We did it! We did it!" =Gloria shouted.
"Looking for buried treasure is exciting," =Willi
remarked, "but it means hard work and patience."
"And dirty hands," =Jason chuckled.

=Cheryl was ready to become an outstanding
student, however.  =FredThompson had convinced her
that she could be accepted into college and, with a
little more effort, he said, she might get a scholarship
that would cover the costs. That goal fired up =Cheryl
even more. The "slow learner" was soon getting =A's.
=Cheryl was zooming to the top of her class.
She was also zooming her way to fame on the
track. =Cheryl became one of =America's top runners.
Her winning times qualified her to run in meets all
over the =UnitedStates and =Europe.
To =Cheryl, the trips were marvelous. They gave
her a chance to see places that were very different
from her home. She met new people and learned
about many ways of life. And, of course, each trip
brought exciting races.
A race on one such trip stood out in =Cheryl's
mind long after it was over. It was in =1970, and
=Cheryl had gone to a big meet in =Toronto, =Canada. 
=Cheryl ran the six hundred yard race there, even
though she had never run "the six hundred" before.
"There were three and three-quarter laps to run in
all," =Cheryl said. "With about two laps left, I heard 
=Freddy yelling, Go! Go! What are you waiting for?
And I went! 
"I won the race, then walked around the track to
where =Freddy and my teammates were waiting. It was
funny. Everybody was jumping up and down and
smiling and reaching out to me. =Freddy said, Look
up at the clock. So I looked and the clock read =1'22'2.
&&000 HOLT, RINEHART & WINSTON (1983) 7TH GRADE    WIN9837T.ASC
TO SEE OURSELVES  Level 16, Grade 7 
Source: SUNY Cortland, xeroxed, scanned, edited by DPH 12-15-92

NOTE: INVOLKED THE 5X RULE: for 'burgomaster, and variants.

&&111
I left =New =York in =May. I had a penknife, a ball of cord,
an ax, and =forty dollars, which I had saved from selling  
magazine subscriptions. I also had some flint and steel, which I
had
bought at a =Chinese store in the city. The man in the store
had showed me how to use it. He had al.so given me a little
purse to put it in, and some tinder to catch the sparks. He
had told me that if I ran out of tinder, I should burn cloth
and use the charred ashes.
I thanked him and said,  =This is the kind of thing I am not
going to forget. 
=On the train north to the =Catskills, I unwrapped my flint
and steel and practiced hitting them together to make sparks.
On the wrapping paper I made these notes:
 =A hard brisk strike is best. Remember to hold the steel in
the left hand and the flint in the right, and hit the steel with
the  flint.
 The trouble is the sparks go every which way. 
And that was the trouble. I did not get a fire going that night,
and as I mentioned, this was a scary experience.
I hitched rides into the =Catskill =Mountains. At about four
o'clock a truck driver and I passed through a beautiful dark
herlllock forest, and I said to hilll,  =This is as far as I am
going.  
He looked all around and said,  =You live here? 
No,  I said,  but I am running away from home, and this
is just the kind of forest I have always dreamed I would run
to. I think I'll camp here tonight.  I hopped out of the cab.

for the burgomaster's, =Manka told him what answers to make.
When he reached the burgomaster's house, the farmer was already
there rubbing his hands and beaming with self-importance.
The burgomaster again propounded the riddle and then asked the
=mer his answers.
The farmer cleared his throat and with a pompous air began,  The 
swiftest thing in the world? Why, my dear sir, that's my gray mare,
of course, for no other horse ever passes us on the road. The
sweetest?
Honey from my beehives, to be sure. The richest? What can be richer
than my chest of golden ducats! 
And the farmer squared his shoulders and smiled triumphantly. 
=H'm,  said the young burgomaster dryly. Then he asked,  What 
answers does the shepherd make? 
The shepherd bowed politely and said,  The swiftest thing in the
world is thought, for thought can run any distance in the twinkling
of an eye. The sweetest thing of all is sleep, for when one is
tired and sad, what can be sweeter? The richest thing is the earth,
for out of the earth come all the riches of the world. 
Good!  the burgomaster cried.  Good! The heifer goes to the
shepherd! 
Later the =burgomer said to the shepherd,  =Tell me now, who gave
you those answers? I'm sure they never came out of your own head. 
At first the shepherd tried not to tell, but when the =burgomer
pressed him, he confessed that they came from his daughter, =Manka.
the =burgomer, who thought he would like to make another test of
=Manka's cleverness, sent for ten eggs. He gave them to the
shepherd and said,  =Take these eggs to =Manka and tell her to have
them hatched out by tomorrow and to bring me the chicks. 
When the shepherd reached home and gave =Manka the  
=burgomer's message, =Manka laughed and said,  =Take a handful of
millet and go right back to the =burgomer. Say to him, My
daughter sends us this millet. She says that if you plant it, grow
it, and have it harvested by tomorrow, she'll bring you the ten
chicks and you can feed them the ripe grain. 
When the =burgomer heard this, he laughed heartily.  That's a
clever girl of yours,  he told the shepherd.  If she's as comely as
she is ever, I think I'd like to marry her. Tell her to come to see
me, but she must come neither by day nor by night, neither riding
nor walking, either dressed nor undressed. 
When =Manka received this message, she waited until the next dawn,

the =Shaker =Dwelling =Room,  nineteenth century
The =Shakers were a religious group who believed that the greatest
beauty came from order and simplicity. This guiding belief was
reflected
the furniture they made for their dwellings. The room above is  
typical, peaceful, tranquil. There is no decoration of any kind
here, no painting or carving, nothing frivolous. The cabinets, peg
rack, and  baseboard contrast beautifully with the bare, white
walls. The chairs, bed, table, and stove have clean, pure lines.
The =Shakers made both movable and built-in furniture, taking
advantage of the natural beauty of the wood.
Thleir chairs, which are especially famous, were both durable and 
lighteeight, easily hung on the wall pegs when the time came to
clear the floor for religious meetings.

His older brother slapped him across the earmuffs with a
mittened hand.  Shut up, =Britz,  he commanded.  We
can't go home. Chuck and =Miss =Lecia don't know where
we are,  
 Sure we know!  =Chuck shouted against him without
looking away from the lunch packing.  Don't we know,
=Lecia? Anyway, it won't last. Radio said just light snow
flurries, or l ad wouldn't have let me take the bus out
stead of him.  =When the tall boy straightened up, the
lunch boxes were strung to the belt of his sheepskin.
=Baldy =Stever will be out with his plane looking for you soon
as it clears a little, won't he, =Lecia?  he said.  Like he came
=New =Year's, with skis on the plane. 
But the bold talk did not quiet the sobbing, and the
teacher tied scarves and mufflers across the faces of the
younger children, leaving only slits for the eyes. Then she
lined up the seven, mixing the ages, from six year old =Joanie
to twelve year old =Bill. One of the blankets she tied around
the thinly dressed =Maggie, the other around herself, ready
to carry =Joanie when the short little legs were worn out.
Awkwardly, =Lecia pulled the left arm of each pupil from
the sleeve, buttoned it inside the coat and then tied the
empty sleeve to the right arm of the one ahead. She took
the lead, with little =Joanie tied to her belt. Chuck was at the
tail end of the little queue, just behind =Bill with the
steel-braced ankle.
 Never risk getting separated,  =Lecia remembered
hearing her pioneer grandfather say when he told of
burying the dead from the =January blizzard of =1888 here,
the one still called the schoolchildren's storm.  Never get
separated and never stop moving until you find shelter. 
The teacher squinted back along the line, moving like
some long snowy winter-logged animal, the segmented
back bowed before the sharpening blizzard wind. Just the
momentary turn into the storm took her breath and  
frightened her for these children hunched into themselves, half
of them crying softly, hopelessly, as though already lost.
They must hurry. With not a rock anywhere and not a tree
within miles to show the directions, they had to seek out
the landmark of the ranch country, the wire fence. 


The =Chinese merchant bowed politely.  Your presence does
honor to my humble house,  he said.
The =Dutch trader, who had been in the =East long enough
to observe oriental forms of politeness, replied,  You do me
too much honor. 
We have prepared a very meager meal that is hardly worth
your while to eat, but it is all this poor house can do. 
I am sure that the meal is much too grand for such a poor
trader as myself,  the other replied, wondering what
marvels the cook had created.
The =Chinese merchant had indeed done himself proud;
course after course of delicacies was brought to the table.
Some of these the =Dutch trader had eaten before, but he was
most taken with a sauce that his host offered him to pour on
the roast goose, and thereafter on other dishes as well.  Most
remarkable,  he said.  Is this a specialty of your house? 
 It is a quite common sauce we call =ke-tsiap,  said the
=Chinese.  It means in our language the brine of pickled fish,
since that is what it most resembles. Actually it is made of
many ingredients, mostly the juices of preserved mushrooms
and walnuts, suitably seasoned. It so happens that I do much
trade in this sauce, and since you are pleased to approve of it,
perhaps I can send you a bottle of ke-tsiap? 
 I was thinking,  said the trader,  that I might buy some.
Our people in =Holland might like it as much as I do. 
 =How many casks can you use? 
The =Hollander smiled.  I do not know how well my people
will like it,  he said.  Shall we say a small trial order, a  
half dozen casks to start? 
And thus was the trade in ke-tsiap started. This was the end
of the sixteenth century; by the eighteenth century the =Dutch
were heavy importers of the sauce. 


On weekends my parents always climbed mountains.
They went off with the =University =Outing =Club and the
=New =England =Mountaineering =Society and returned with  
fascinating tales of brand-new ropes that snapped like thread and
people who missed breaking their necks because they had
fingernails as strong as diamonds. Conversations around our
house were never about parties, politics, or whose grades
were slipping, hut more likely about whose rope was slipping.
My mother would narrow her gray eyes, gazing beyond the
windowpanes, and say to my father,  =Tom, your boots need
oiling if we're going to do the =Big =Bulge next =Sunday.  =Or,  I
notice the half-inch =Manila is slightly frayed in two places.
Better replace it before someone gets killed.  =Or,  =Remember
the rock that smashed my left big toe? Well, the nail finally
dropped off. 
When I was ten, =Daddy took me to =Indian =Bluffs and
taught me the system of technical climbing. Besides
scrambling up and belaying correctly, this also involved tying
knots that would never slip, splicing, and coiling the long,
heavy ropes into efficient snakes. From Indian =Bluffs I  
graduated to the spindly, terrifying fire tower, where I rappelled
=eighty feet off the concrete platform so many times that the
sour taste of fear vanished from my mouth and I finally knew
the exhilaration of propelling myself through free space.
For two years I kept waiting for my mother to say,  It's
time =Jo did some real climbing with us.  =Maybe she still
hoped that my anemic older brother, =Will, would sprout sets
of bulging muscles and become instantly obsessed with  
mountains. But I knew =Will wasn't interested. So I waited for my
parents to notice that I was coordinated, agile, and keenly
interested.
One day in late summer my father said,  It's about time for
=Jo to climb the =Wall with us, don't you think?  =He was
sprawled on the living-room floor, splicing a rope. My mother
gave me a vague look. She had black ink all over her hands
and on her face. She was a writer, and every day she put on
a sweater and skirt and ancient saddle oxfords jammed pink
wax into both ears, and retreated to the attic, where she
crouched for hours over a portable typewriter.

&&000 HOLT RINEHART WINSTON  (1986)  7TH GRADE     WIN9867T.ASC
TO SEE OURSELVES  LEVEL 16 by Bernard J. Weiss et al
Source: SUNY Cortland xerox, scan edit by DPH  February 3, 1993

&&111



=Rikki-tikki put his paws one on each side of the egg, and his
eyes were bloodred.  What price for a snake's egg? For a
young cobra? For a young king cobra? For the last, the very
last of the brood? The ants are eating all the others down by the
melon bed. 
=Nagaina spun clear round, forgetting everything for the sake
of the one egg, and =Rikki-tikki saw =Teddy's father shoot out a
big hand, catch =Teddy by the shoulder, and drag him across
the little table with the teacups, safe and out of reach of
=Nagaina.
 Tricked ! Tricked ! Tricked ! =Rikk-tck-tck!   chuckled  
=Rikkitikki.  The boy is safe, and it was I, I, I that caught =Nag
by the
hood last night in the bathroom.  Then he began to jump up and
down, all four feet together, his head close to the floor.  He
threw me to and fro, but he could not shake me off. He was dead
before the big man blew him in two. I did it! =Rikki-tikki-tck-tck!
Come then, =Nagaina. Come and fight with me. You shall not be
a widow long. 
=Nagaina saw that she had lost her chance of killing =Teddy,
and the egg lay between =Rikki-tikki's paws.  Give me the egg,
=Rikki-tikki. Give me the last of my eggs, and I will go away and
never come back,  she said, lowering her hood.
 Yes, you will go away, and you will never come back, for you
will go to the rubbish heap with =Nag. Fight, widow! The big man
has gone for his gun! Fight! 
=Rikki-tikki was bounding all round =Nagaina, keeping just out
of reach of her stroke, his little eyes like hot coals. =Nagaina
gathered herself together and flung out at him. =Rikki-tikki
jumped up and backward. Again and again and again she
struck, and each time her head came with a whack on the  
matting of the veranda, and she gathered herself together like a
watchspring. Then =Rikki-tikki danced in a circle to get behind
her, and =Nagaina spun round to keep her head to his head, so
that the rustle of her tail on the matting sounded like dry leaves
blown along by the wind.
He had forgotten the egg. It still lay on the veranda, and
=Nagaina came nearer and nearer to it, till at last, while  
=Rikkitikki was drawing breath, she caught it in her mouth, turned
to the veranda steps, and flew like an arrow down the path, with
=Rikki-tikki behind her. When the cobra runs for her life, she goes



many times. He was =Frank =Walker, who was to become her
manager and guide. Several years later, he did send for her.
The recording of  =Downhearted =Blues  was the result. Walker
recalled this honky-tonk visit as  the most overwhelming  
musical experience of my life. I had never heard anything like the
torment she put into the music of her people. It was the blues
and she meant it. 
Though =Bessie was unknown up =North during these years,
she was causing a stir along the southern circuit. Often she
danced in the chorus line of the shows. Occasionally she
played comedy roles, dressed in a man's tuxedo. But it was her
blues singing that made her audiences shout and cry. Among
her early fans were =Clarence =Williams and =James =P. Johnson,
 =Dean of the =Harlem piano.  =James =P. was to become one of her
favorite accompanists. =Williams, at the behest of =Frank =Walker,
was to seek her out and bring her to =New =York.
On that =February afternoon of =1923, when =Bessie =Smith sang
into that horn at the =New =York studio, only =Frank =Walker, of
all the record company's executives, believed in her. The others,
worrying about the company's financial plight, thought her voice
was  too rough,   too crude.  Yet it was this big, hefty young
woman, just arrived from the =Deep =South, who saved the  
company from bankruptcy.
 Downhearted =Blues,  released without fanfare, was an
immediate hit. In =Atlanta, in =Memphis, in =Birmingham, in =New
=Orleans, in just about all the large and medium-sized cities of
the =South, =Blacks lined up for blocks in front of record stores
to   buy =Bessie's blues. It was the first time they had heard one
of their own authentic folk artists on wax. Even =Ma =Rainey had
not yet been recorded. It is said that people who couldn't buy coal
bought =Bessie. She offered them inner warmth. During this year
of =1923 =Bessie =Smith sold more than two =million records.
From =1924 to =1927 she was riding high. Her people, =North as
well as =South, were clamoring for her blues. They sensed the
truth, they felt the power of her singing. A lot of blues were
written especially for her; many she herself wrote.
In the early months of =1925, she was accompanied on nine
remarkable records by a young cornet player who had recently
joined =Fletcher =Henderson's orchestra in =New =York. His name
was =Louis =Armstrong. Each of these giants inspired the other,


For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,, 
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked =Paul =Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry-tower of the =Old =North =Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns!

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet:
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the =Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock,
When he crossed the bridge into =Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,


It took months of negotiation to come to an  
understanding with the old man. He was in no hurry. What he
had the most of was time. He lived up in =Rio en =Medio,
where his people had been for =hundreds of years. He tilled
the same land they had tilled. His house was small and
wretched, but quaint. The little creek ran through his land.
His orchard was gnarled and beautiful.
The day of the sale he came into the offlce. His coat was
old, green, and faded. I thought of =Senator =Catron, who
had been such a power with these people up there in the
mountains. Perhaps it was one of his old =Prince =Alberts.
He also wore gloves. They were old and torn and his
fingertips showed through them. He carried a cane, but it
was only the skeleton of a worn-out umbrella. Behind him
walked one of his innumerable kin, a dark young man
with eyes like a gazelle.
The old man bowed to all of us in the room. Then he  
removed his hat and gloves, slowly and carefully. =Chaplin
once did that in a picture, in a bank, he was the janitor.
Then he handed his things to the boy, who stood  
obediently behind the old man's chair.
There was a great deal of conversation, about rain and
about his family. He was very proud of his large family.
Finally we got down to business. Yes, he would sell, as he
had agreed, for twelve =hundred dollars, in cash. We would
buy, and the money was ready.  Don =Anselmo,  I said to
him in =Spanish,  we have made a discovery. You  
remember that we sent that surveyor, that engineer, up there



Much as they loved her, they would not stand in her way. And
there would  be one less mouth to feed. The singer promised
=Bessie's people she'd look after the girl as though she were her
own daughter.
Ma =Rainey more than kept her word. As the =Rabbit =Foot  
=Minstrels traveled from town to town, sometimes performing under
a canvas tent, often under the open sky, the girl learned and
matured .
Constantly the older woman was teaching her the subtle
art of blues singing. Tricks and techniques. How to turn a
phrase.     Make one line go a long way, =Bessie.  How to
give strength to every word    .  Just don't sing a word
straight, make it your word, girl. Take the word lonesome,
baby. You been lonesome =lotsa times, =aintcha? Make that
lonesome tell your story.  How to vary a melody .  A
tune's like a staircase, walk up on it.  Above all, she advised
=Bessie:  Let your soul do the singing. 
Many of the things the girl saw she remembered years later
and sang into her blues. One of the most poetic of these, 
 =Backwater =Blues,  which she recorded in =1927, was based
upon her memory of the =Mississippi floods.

When it thunders and lightnin and the wind begins to blow,
When it thunders and lightnin and the wind begins to blow,
There's =thousands of people
They ain't got no place to go.

When =Bessie was seventeen, an event occurred that was to
play an, important part in her life. She didn't know it at the
time. It
was in =Selma, =Alabama, at a cheap little honky-tonk. She was
standing in the middle of the floor, arms akimbo, pouring out
her soulful blues. A man sat at one of the tables, staring at her,
transfixed. Bessie paid no attention, for when she sang nothing
else mattered.
 Have you ever thought of going to =New =York?  he asked her
at last.
 I thought of a lot of things,  the girl replied blandly,  but
doing them is something else again. 
 I'll bet you will one of these days,  he continued.  Who
knows? I might send for you.  The huge girl laughed and
thought no more about it. But the man thought about it many,




somebody thought to try snow against the gangrene,   He
filled a little syringe and fingered cotton as he looked
around to divert the child.
 All nine of you alive, the boys say. Amazing!  
Somebody got word through the telephone during the night, but
we had no hope for any of you. ~mall children lost eight
days without food, with =fifty inches of =SlloW at  
thirtyeight below zero.  Probably a =hundred people dead through
the country. The radio in the plane picked up a report that
six were found frozen in a car stalled on the highway, not
over five miles from town. I don't see how you managed. 
The doctor rubbed the punctured place in the child's
arm a little, covered it, smiling into her fearful eyes, as
men with a stretcher broke into the front of the shelter.
When they got outside, the air was loud with engine
roar, several planes flying around overhead, two with skis
already toward the shelter, and a helicopter, hovering
like a brownish dragonfly, settling. Men in uniform were
running toward the children, motioning where they
should be brought.
They came along the snow trail broken by the stretcher
men, but walking through it as through the storm. =Lecia,
suddenly trembling, shaking, her feet unsteady on the
frozen snow, was still in the lead, the others behind her,
and =Chuck once more at the end. Bill, limping awkwardly,
carried little =Joanie, who clung very close to her brother.
They were followed by =Calla and =Eddie, with =Fritz
between them, and then the stretcher with =Maggie. Only
=Olive of all the children walked alone, just ahead of =Chuck,
and brushing aside all help.
There were men running toward the bedraggled, sooty
little string now, men with cameras and others, among



my grandparents saw it and asked a lot of questions. I had no
stomach for answering questions right then. Fortunately they
were somewhere in the front of the house, so I fixed my hand,
then went to the refrigerator wondering what a hawk might eat. I
took out some hamburger and a slice of bologna.
When I eased myself through the tool shed door, the hawk
was stepping disdainfully out of my jacket as if he had killed it
good and proper. I tossed the meat towards him, not wanting to
lose another hand, and in a flash he pounced on it, ripping the
slice of bologna in half and tried to swallow the whole chunk. It
was stuck halfway in his throat, so he spit it out and tried the
hamburger. He could handle this better, and ate it all. Then he
swayed towards me, clattering his beak, as if now he was really
ready to fight.
We watched each other. When he saw I wasn't going to attack
him again, he eased to the back. of the table into a corner, and
hunched down, letting his eyes film over, like he couldn't be
bothered with me anymore.
I left him then. At least he was out of the rain and had eaten,
probably for the first time in a week.
On =Sunday I fed him some more hamburger balls and left a
pan of milk beside his dish of water. I was pretty sure he
wouldn't know anything about milk, but I was willing to try  
anything.
Monday noon, at the school cafeteria, I went over to this
rather big girl named =Janice =Allack. I'd never spoken to her  
before, but I knew her reputation for rescuing and finding homes
for all sorts of orphan animals. I'd heard she had about =fifty
cats
and no one knew how many dogs out at her home. She ran a
regular animal shelter league, and probably knew more about
animals than anyone else around for =hundreds of miles.
 Look,  I said, sort of low to her,   I've got this hawk out at my
home. His wing's busted. I wonder if you could come out and
sort of show me what to do? You know, put it in a splint, or
something?  
 Why, sure, =Larry,  she looked up at me over her macaroni
and cheese,  I'll ride the bus home with you tonight. OK? 
 Okay.  I went back to my lunch feeling relieved. If =Janice
could fix up the hawk, repair his wing so he could fly again,
maybe he'd quit hating me so much, and I'd stop feeling like a
low-down worm.



The =Kanamit were not very pretty, it's true. They looked  
something like pigs and something like people, and that is not an
attractive combination. Seeing them for the first time shocked
you; that was their handicap. When a thing with the  
countenance of a fiend comes from the stars and offers a gift, you
are disinclined to accept.
I don't know what we expected interstellar visitors to look
like, those who thought about it at all, that is. Angels, perhaps,
or something too alien to be really awful. Maybe that's why we
were all so horrified and repelled when they landed in their
great ships and we saw what they really were like.
The =Kanamit were short and very hairy, thick, bristly
brown-gray hair all over their abominably plump bodies. Their
noses were snoutlike and their eyes small, and they had thick
hands of three fingers each. They wore green leather harness
and green shorts, but I think the shorts were a concession to I
our notions of public decency. The garments were quite  
modishly cut, with slash pockets and half-belts in the back. The
=Kanamit had a sense of humor, anyhow.