&&000 AMERICAN BOOK CO.  (1980)  8TH GRADE           AMR9808T.ASC
MEETING CHALLENGES 
SOURCE: Kutztown University Pa.  xerox by LW, scan edit by DPH
March 4, 1993

&&111


My wet blue jeans clung to my frozen socks. I shook a fist in
the direction of school.  Take that, Mrs =Butor.  =Underwatcr  I
felt a shoelace pop. Next the tread would come loose and slap
floors all day. So what? I'd be buying some common old exercise
shoes for the season.
Ahead of me, =Rinehart threaded his way across the snowy
football field, his usual shortcut. Every morning my pal made me
run from goalpost to goalpost while he kept time on his  
stopwatch and took notes, tons of notes. About my movements, my
style,  =Rinehart said. About my improvements. About how  I
compare in speed and stamina to =Randy, =Fritz, =DumDum, and
=Eugene. He'd timed them during football workouts.  For my
science-fair project concerning your fine =Generals,  he'd told
=Coach =O'Hara, who believed him and let him attend  
scrimmages. He remembered =Rinehart's first prizes. Coach =O'Hara
loves a winner.

Ahead =Rinehart called,  No wind sprints today. You'd try
so hard you'd pull a tendon in these snowdrifts. But you must
run extra laps at practice this afternoon. 
What practice? Oh, you mean limbering? Or whatever Mrs =Butor's
doing to us. 
 I mean at a practice that  I've planned for you, =Plan =A! 
He waved his briefcase at =Lee =High.  Let's take your favorite
shortcut. 

We stole through the gym. Coach =O'Hara's light showed
under his office door. He's probably snug in there writing  
mottoes for =Randy and =Company: =Second best is nothing. That
sounds like =Coach. Winning's not a matter of life or death. It's
more important than either. Or perhaps right this minute =Coach
is stalking his locker room, making sure a batch of clean towels
awaits the =Generals after their first home game tonight. Towels
and oranges and juice. Oh,  I wish he were my coach.
Hey, =Rinehart, it's the boys home opener tonight. And us
girls aren't even shooting lay-ups yet. Oh, the pain! 
What?  He couldn't hear me under his earmuffs. He fell in
beside my sopping sneakers. His glasses slipped down his nose,
useless there and anyway fogged over. But his feet were dry,



A good protection for the head is a wool
hunting hat with ear flaps or a wool stocking cap that
can be pulled down over the ears. For severe weather,
a wool hat which can be pulled down over the face is
even better. Another way a person can prepare to maintain
body heat outdoors is by carrying a supply of
high-sugar, quick-energy food, such as a mixture of
nuts and dried fruit. Once in the field, it is important
to stay as dry as possible and to avoid perspiring. Wet
clothes lose about =90 per cent of their insulating
properties. They literally suck the heat from a
person's body. People should also rest often to avoid
becoming exhausted.
Hypothermia can strike in temperatures as high
as =50øF  =10øC . Even proper clothing may not protect a
person against severe wind chill. The wind chill
factor  is more important to know than the air
temperature. When wind blows, it makes the air feel
colder. The lower the temperature and the higher the
wind speed, the colder the air feels.



card wins.  Okay? And then, the one with the most cards of all
wins the game.  Okay
 That's all?  he asked.
 That's all. Ready she asked, and sat down. They began
to play cards.
 You know, my sister =Jennie used to be a great card
player,  said Mr =Mendelsohn.
 Does she still play asked =Yvonne.
 Oh     Mr =Mendelsohn laughed.  I don't know any
more. She's already married and has kids. She was the  
youngest in my family, like you. 
Did she go to =PS =39? On =Longwood =Avenue? 
 I'm sure she did. All my sisters went to school around
here. 
Wow! You must have been living here a long time, Mr
=Mendelsohn. 
Forty-five years!  said the old man.
=Wowee!  =Yvonne whistled.  =Georgie, did you hear? Mr
=Mendelsohn been living here for =forty-five whole years! 
=Georgie put down his comic book and looked up.
 Really?  he asked, impressed.
 Yes, =forty-five years this summer we moved here. But in
those days things were different, not like today. No sir! The
=Bronx has changed. Then, it was the country. That's right!
Why, look out the window. You see the elevated trains on


may call these chemicals by different names. But they will have
the same elements on their planets, hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen,
oxygen, and phosphorus.
Then comes a list of the chemicals in the human =DNA  
molecule. After that is a picture of the human =DNA molecule, the
master  building block  of every human being on =Earth.
After the =DNA molecule is a rough sketch of a human
being. To the right of the human being is the number four  
=billion. This stands for =Earth's population in =1974. To the left
of the human being is a number standing for the average height of
the human being, about five feet, ten inches.
Below this is shown our solar system. Nine planets are  
pictured. The pictures give an idea of the relative size of each
planet. The large sun is on the right. The =Earth is slightly
higher
than the other planets. This is to show that =Earth is the home
planet of the figure above it.
Finally, at the bottom is a picture of the =Arecibo =Telescope.
The numbers at the lower edge of the grid tell the telescope's
size.
Will the message ever be received and decoded? Chances
are good that it will. By the time it reaches =Messier =13, the  
message will have spread out to all =300'000 stars. The =Arecibo  
=Telescope will also continue sending out this same message,  
whenever it is not doing other work. Unfortunately, we will never
know if anyone reads the message because it won't arrive at
=Messier =13 until the year =26'980. To get an answer will require
another =25'000 years.

Other =New =Ears

Scientists are hard at work trying to develop faster ways of
covering more of the heavens and more distance in space. In
=New =Mexico, a project called =Very =Large =Array  =VLA  is under
construction. It will consist of =27 dishes. Each dish is =82 feet
across and will ride a railroad flat car. The flat cars will travel
along three tracks in the form of a =Y. Each arm of the =Y is  
between =11 and =13 miles long. When complete, the =VLA will be a
radio  ear  almost =26 miles in diameter. Scientists will be able
to pick out radio waves from a pinpoint of light among =millions
of other stars. It will also map gas clouds between stars.  
Scientists call these clouds  giant chemical factories.  =The =VLA
is so sensitive that what is going on inside these clouds will be
visible



The caribou bucked, writhed, then dropped to his
knees. His antlers pierced the ground; he bellowed and fell.
He was dying, his eyes glazed with the pain-killing drug of
shock; yet his muscles still flexed. His hoofs flailed at the three
who were ending the hunt with slashes and blood-letting bites.
After what seemed to =Miyax an eternity, the bull lay still.
=Amaroq tore open his side as if it were a loaf of bread, and,
without ceremony, fell to the feast.
=Kapu and the little wolves came cautiously up to the huge
animal and sniffed. They did not know what to do with this
beast. It was the first one they had seen, and so they wandered
curiously around the kill, watching their elders. =Amaroq snarled
with pleasure as he ate, then licked his lips and looked at =Kapu.
=Kapu pounced on a piece of meat and snarled, too; then he
looked at =Amaroq again. The leader growled and ate. =Kapu
growled and ate.
=Miyax could not believe her good fortune, an entire caribou
felled practically at her door. This was enough food to last her
for months, perhaps a year. She would smoke it to make it
lighter to carry, pack it, and walk on to the coast. She would
make it to =Point =Hope.
Plans racing in her head, she squatted to watch the wolves
eat, measuring, as time passed, the enormous amounts they were
consuming, pounds at each bite. As she saw her life-food
vanishing, she decided she had better get her share while she
could and went into her house for her knife.
As she crept up toward the bull she wondered if she should
come so close to wolves that were eating. Dogs would bite
people under similar conditions. But dogs would refuse to share
their food with others of their kind, as the wolves were doing
now, growling pleasantly and feasting in friendship.
She was inching forward, when =Kapu splintered a bone
with his mere baby teeth. She thought better of taking her share;
instead, she waited patiently for the wolves to finish.
=Amaroq left the kill first, glanced her way, and disappeared
in the fog. Silver and =Nails departed soon after, and the pups
followed at their mother's heels.
 =Ee-lie!  =Miyax shouted and ran to the food. Suddenly lello
came out of the fog and leaped upon a leg of the kill. She drew
back. Why had he not eaten with the others? she asked herself.
He had not been baby-sitting. He must be in some kind of wolf
disgrace, for he walked with his tail between his  legs, and he
was not allowed to eat with the pack.

federal bird specialist. There are a 
number of likely reasons for the  
recent progress. One is the campaign
by the =National =Wildlife =Federation
to protect eagle homelands from development. In =1977 alone the =Fe
Federation saved two eagles roosting
areas, one in =California and one in
=Illinois. Another reason is the  
public's growing concern about  
protecting eagles. This was dramatically
demonstrated in =NewYork when  there was
a strong public outcry over
the shooting of an eagle. At best
though the eagle has gained only a
reprieve. The eagle is still in danger
from the destruction of its
homelands from pesticide use and from
illegal trapping.



The surface of the earth is constantly changing. Changes may
occur very slowly over long periods of time as the result of
natural erosion, or they may occur rapidly and abruptly as the
result of volcanic eruptions or earthquakes.
Volcanic eruptions change the earth's surface in dramatic ways.
They may create islands almost overnight where there were no
islands before. Lava flows may cover villages in a few hours.

Earthquakes cause the earth's surface to be wrenched by  
slippages along fault lines, or weak points. Great cracks and
crevices may appear in the ground. Buildings may tumble; great
boulders may roll down mountainsides. Huge areas of the earth's
surface may rise or fall, leaving mounds and depressions.

Natural erosion, which comes with the change of seasons, also
causes differences in the earth's surface. Wind, rain, snow, sleet,
heat, frost, and ice, all these wear away at mountains and rocks
and soil. When the power of these natural forces is multiplied
during severe storms, the changes they create may be dramatic.
Great floods may change the surface of the earth considerably in
just a few days.

The action of glaciers has been a powerful force in the erosion of
the earth's surface over long periods of time. Geologists  people
who study the earth  tell us that great ice sheets, like those in
=Greenland and =Antarctica, covered nearly all of =Canada and
much of northern =United =States until about =11'000 years ago.
Many of the surface features in =New =York state, the =New =England
states, and the north central states are the result of the movement
of glacial ice. Nearly ten percent of the earth's surface is still
covered by glaciers and is still being changed by these great
masses of moving ice.


&&000 GINN & CO.   (1982)   8TH GRADE READER          GIN9828T.ASC
PERSIAN GOLD  LEVEL 15 
SOURCE: Kutztown University (Pa.)
xerox by LW scan edit by DPH March 5, 1993


can't find 'ruum' in the Webster's 3rd Unabridged dictionary

&&111


asking about it last month. And I
told him only because he was
writing it all down, and promised
to put my name in the story. It is
=Perdiccas, my brother's, story too,
but he was not here to take his part
in the telling.
It was =Perdiccas and I, I told the
=Athenian, the two of us together,
who built the hide that saved the
stranger's life. We built it never
thinking a grownup would use it
or need it; we built it for ourselves,
just about as far from my father's
hall as would allow us to reach it,
and return by nightfall. We made it
out of sapling trees, which  
=Perdiccas cut down and lashed together,
and willowy branches which I
plaited and wove into screens to
cover it with, and mud from the
nearby stream, which we both
daubed all over it, and covered
with leaves. We tore long strips of



Reaching the summit of =Madonna =Mountain, I glided off the lift
and brought my skis to a quick stop. The swirling snow was
blinding, but that didn't make any difference to me. I was blind
anyway.
Three feet behind me, at the edge of the drop-off, stood my
=18-year-old son and guide, =Matthew.  Ready to go, =Mom?  he
called.
I paused briefly to adjust my dark glasses.  Ready!  I shouted
back.
 Make that first turn to the right!  I heard =Matt's voice
straining
above the rising wind.  Go! Go! Go! 
And down I went. Soon we were racing along the trail, past
trees and around moguls, and past other skiers too. All I could
see was a ghostlike world of white. My only connection with
reality was that voice behind me calling:  Right turn! Left turn!
Go! Go! Go! 

I wasn't always blind, but then I wasn't always able to ski from
the top of a mountain either.
I had first tried downhill skiing in the early =1 =940s, and could
see
perfectly then. But the giant wooden skis and old-fashioned cable
bindings did nothing to help my turns.
Every =December, loaded down with skis, poles, and boots, and
wearing the baggy black ski pants of the era, I would climb
aboard the =Boston bus for =Stowe, =Vermont. Yet no matter how
many lessons I took or how hard I tried, I could never advance
beyond snowplow turns on the novice =Toll =Road =Trail. Thinking I
might someday reach the more glamorous elevations of 



It was his custom to let me name
all the new birds that I had seen
during the day. I would name them
according to the color or the
shape of the bill or their song or
the appearance and locality of the
nest, in fact, anything about the
bird that impressed me as  
characteristic. I made many ridiculous  
errors I must admit. He then usually
informed me of the correct name.
Occasionally I made a hit and this
he would warmly commend.
He went much deeper into this
science when I was a little older,
that is, about the age of eight or nine
years. He would say, for instance:
  How do you know that there are
fish in yonder lake? 
 Because they jump out of the
water for flies at mid-day. 
 He would smile at my prompt but
superficial reply.
 What do you think of the little
pebbles grouped together under the
shallow water? And what made the
pretty curved marks in the sandy



=Clowns of =American and from full-time schools such as the =A
=Ringling =Bros. and =Barnum =& =Bailey =Clown =College in =Venice,
=Florida. There also are a few institutions such as the =Circus
=School for the =Performing =Arts in =New =York =City that include
clowning in a broader course on circus skills.
The =New =York school staff includes two former members of
the =Moscow =Circus and several veterans from =Ringling =Bros.
and =Barnum =& =Bailey. Among skills taught are tumbling,
unicycle riding, juggling, comedy techniques, animal  
handling, and acrobatics. Students learn by doing in performances
before live audiences at the school's one-ring =Big =Apple =Circus,
which is staged each summer in a tent in midtown =Manhattan.
I sat in on =Phil =Granger's clown class at =Purdue. The students 
were rehearsing the show they were to put on for friends and
relatives at graduation the following week. About half his
students were women, half were men.
One student, the president of a water-conditioner company,
took the course for a joke. When =Granger asked the class to
give him its attention, this student jumped up in alarm, turned
his pockets inside out, and protested:  I must have left it at
home. 
Out of costume, another student was a shy and withdrawn
dental assistant. In her clown character, the shyness became an
effective comic ploy.
A nurse in the class said she will use clowning to fulfill her
private fantasies of  breaking into show biz. 
The other students included a speech therapist, an  
unemployed maintenance worker, a receptionist, a teacher in a
day-care center, a stock clerk for the telephone company, and
an airline employee.
By this next to last class, everyone had learned the basics of
mime, the pratfall and other basics of physical comedy, stage
production and parade technique, props, special effects, stage
magic, and verbal comedy. The class had also studied clown
history.
And keeping formal clown traditions carefully in mind, each
student developed a personal clown character and make-up
and had designed a costume.



A boy's life is pestered with  
problems, hard ones, as hard as any
adult's. There is the whole world to
get into your head. You have to
make a picture of it; that's easy, but
the picture has to correspond  
somewhat with the world outside, which
keeps changing. You have the sun
going fine around the earth, and then
all of a sudden you learn something
more and the earth starts whirling
around the sun. This means a  
complete readjustment. It happens often.
Every time I had everything all right
and working harmoniously inside so
that I could leave it and mind my
own business, some fact would bob
up to throw it all out. I remember
how, when the earth was flat, I had
to put =China and the =Far =East to the


still oozing along on =Jim's trail. He watched the thing with
painful anxiety. Everything hinged upon this brief survey. He
was right! Yes, although at most places the man's trail was
neither the only route nor the best one, the =ruum dogged the
footsteps of his prey. The significance of that fact was  
immense, but Irwin had no more than twelve minutes to make
use of the knowledge.
Deliberately dragging his feet, Irwin made a clear trail
directly under the boulder. After going past it for about ten
yards, he walked backwards in his own prints until just short
of the overhang. Then he jumped up clear of the track to a
point behind the balanced rock.
Whipping out his heavy-duty belt knife, he began to dig,
scientifically, but with furious haste, about the base of the
boulder. Every few moments, sweating with apprehension and
effort, he rammed it with one shoulder. At last, it teetered a
little. He had just jammed the knife back into its holder, and
was crouching there, panting, when the ruum rolled into sight
over a small ridge on his back trail.
He watched the gray spheroid moving towards him and
fought to quiet his sobbing breath. There was no telling what
other senses it might bring into play, even though the ruum
seemed to prefer just to follow in his prints. But it certainly had
a whole battery of instruments at its disposal. He crouched low
behind the rock, every nerve a charged wire.
But there was no change of technique by the ruum.  
Seemingly intent on the footprints of its prey, the strange sphere
rippled along, passing directly under the great boulder. As it
did so, Irwin gave a savage yell, and thrusting his whole
muscular weight against the balanced mass, toppled it squarely
on the ruum. Five tons of stone fell from a height of twelve feet.
Jim scrambled down. He stood there, staring at the huge
lump and shaking his head dazedly. He gave the boulder a
kick.  =Hah! =Walt and I might clear a buck or two yet from your
little meat market. Maybe this expedition won't be a total loss. 
Then he leaped back, his eyes wild. The giant rock was
shifting! Slowly its five-ton bulk was sliding off the trail,
raising a ridge of soil as it grated along. Even as he stared, the
boulder



Regrets: I can't make the fishing trip.
I've been court-appointed here to represent
a man about to be sentenced tomorrow on a
kidnapping charge.
Ordinarily, I might have tried to beg off
and =McDivot, who is doing the sentencing,
would probably have turned me loose. But
this is the craziest thing you ever heard of.
The man being sentenced has apparently
been not only charged, but adjudged guilty
as a result of a comedy of errors too long
to go into here. He not only isn't guilty, 
he's got the best case I ever heard of for
damages against one of the larger =Book =Clubs
headquartered here in =Chicago. And that's a
case I wouldn't mind taking on.
It's inconceivable, but all too possible,
once you stop to think of it in this day and
age of machine-made records, that a completely
innocent person could be put in this position.
There shouldn't be much to it. I've asked
to see =McDivot tomorrow before the time for
sentencing, and it'll just be a matter of
explaining to her. Then I can discuss the
damage suit with my freed client at his
leisure. 
Fishing next weekend?



=Van =Gogh went insane,  =Pearl =May said, thoughtful.
 No wonder. Laying out all that cash for paint. 
=Pearl =May laughed.  Listen,  she said,  he was jealous of this
woman, see? You know? 
 Yes? 
 Well, he wanted to prove he loved her. So he cut off his ear and
left it
on her doorstep. 
=Jose stood back to look at the picture again. He had to admit that
it took a lot to cut off an ear, for love.
 Now, you tell me you like that picture,  =Pearl =May said. =Jose
shrugged.  A tree's a tree, isn't it? 
 You like it,  she said. Her voice had a little song in it.
 Maybe,  =Jose said.
They left the museum and crossed the street.
=Jose looked around with new eyes. Bricks that had been just bricks
before now were a bright mix of brown and red. A passing cab blazed
like a yellow flower. A girl in a bright plaid coat looked to =Jose
like a dancing pattern of lights, not just another girl.
The whole city clanged with color. =Jose felt the way he had on the
bus when the cinder came out of his eye. Everything looked new.
He and =Pearl =May reached the bus stop and turned their backs to
the wind. It was colder now. =Jose hunched up in his jacket.
 I thought you'd like that picture,  =Pearl =May said.  I was going
to show it to you. But I guess it's better you found it yourself. 
=Jose said nothing. He watched the bus swirl green and white toward
them. The door whooshed open.
=Jose took =Pearl =May's elbow to help her up the step.
They took seats near the driver.
 Well, did I waste your day?  =Pearl =May asked him.
=Jose didn't answer. He was too busy looking at faces. White faces,
he saw now, weren't white at all. They were pink, or tanned, or
pink with
brown spots. In fact, every face had several colors blended in it.
Black and brown and white were just words, when it came to people.
 What are you thinking?  =Pearl =May said.
 I was thinking about that tree picture,  =Jose said.  And the
=French ones with all the little dots of color that make the
picture. Those guys were onto something big. 
=Pearl =May laughed softly.  Maybe you're right,  she said.



threw up his hands.  I concluded that I would have to
intervene at some point, and that it would be easier to prevent
an altercation than to break one up. 
 I would have had =Earl on my side. 
=Earl spoke up bravely.  =Yuh. 
=Uncle =Edward smiled at =Earl.  True. But, while =Earl is stout
of heart, he is still slender of stature. His body has not yet
caught up with his spirit. You boys were not outclassed,
merely outweighed.  He shook his head.  =Brian and =Arnold
would have gone over you like =Sherman marching through
=Georgia. 
 Those idiots didn't believe me. 
 They have closed minds. Tragic! At their age!  =He turned
on =Earl, shaking his cigar in =Earl's face.  You must never, ever,
allow your rnind to become closed. 
=Earl nodded vigorously, wide-eyed.
=Mark =Anthony said,  You want to look at the collections
some more, =Earl? 
=Earl shook his head.  No. Everything really neat, but I
think I'll go home now. 
 They're not going to beat you up or anything, =Earl. You
didn't lie to them. If they don't believe anyone, it's me. 
=Earl stepped out onto the porch.  See you =Monday, at
school. 
 =Sure. 
=Mark =Anthony watched him ride away, and felt very lonely.
The weekend he had looked forward to stretched out ahead of
him now as something to be gotten through.
On top of everything else, =Brian and =Arnold hadn't been
impressed by the collection, they'd figured it was phony, a
collection of lies. They must think he'd sat down and made up
every single label. They'd probably spread it all around school
that he had tried to pull a fast one on them. This was the last
time he'd show that collection to anyone, if he had anything to
say about it.
He decided to go for a walk. Sometimes, walking made him
feel better. Besides, if he found anything new, he'd have a
place to put it now.
&&000 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN  (1983)  8TH GRADE          HM1988T.ASC
AWARDS by William K. Durr et al
Level O, 8th grade
Source: SUNY Cortland, xeroxed, scanned, edited DPH 12-29-92

&&111


In the dark of a late =October moon, in the far north of =Canada,
geese begin to wing across the cold face of the sky. Beneath them,
the grass in the vast marshlands stands stiff. The tundra is
slicked
with the soft silver sheen of frost, and the waters of =James =Bay
and
=Hudson =Bay, capped with waves stirred up by winds of coming
winter, gleam in the moonglow.
The mighty migrations of =Canada geese, some three =million
strong, have begun. They are leaving their breeding grounds in this
northernmost land, uninhabited by people, to fly south to warmer
temperatures.
The birds burst from the marshes singly and in groups, the flights
at the beginning seemingly without pattern. But as they gain
altitude, the straggling lines of geese begin to straighten. At
first, it
looks like a single line of birds, with one flying faster, becoming
the
leader. But that follow-the-leader group slowly shapes into a loose
=V outline, with the birds churning closer together, as if obeying
commands from a flight leader.
High now  probably about one =thousand meters, but sometimes
as high as three =thousand meters , dark shapes moving away from
the moon, the flight of geese looks like a squadron of aircraft
flying
in tight formation. The =V is precise; the point is one bird, the
leader; the others are spaced evenly behind. It is as perfectly
formed as the head of an arrow.
Many of us have watched and listened to migrating geese in the
sky. As they speed south, we know that winter is on its way.



When our class was called, =Kate
followed me to ringside with only a
suggestion of hesitancy in her gait. I
dared to hope.
It was a large class of golden  
retrievers, at least for this part of the
country, five in addition to =Kate. I
glanced at the others briefly. A strong
class. A couple of nothings, but the
others would definitely provide  
serious competition.
=Kate and I led into the ring on the
theory that the first dog might have
a very slight advantage. Kate gaited
well, and when the time came to line
up for examination, she held her pose
like a statue. But I could feel, through
the lead, that she was trembling.
Mr =Aberfeldy began his  
examination at the far end of the line. =Kate's
trembling grew more and more  
pronounced as the seconds passed. I kept
up a steady murmur of  
encouragement. She watched me from the  
corner of her eye. When neither =Kate
nor I could have borne the tension
another moment, Mr =Aberfeldy came
to judge =Kate.
He reached slowly for her head.
Every muscle in =Kate's body turned to


to you, =Teacher, and I want to be
here in case you need help 
=Maria Isahella =Casares heard
the news. She is a brave woman,
and months later, standing in front
of the empty crypt in the cemetery
at =Carolina where =Roberto  
=Clemente was to have been buried, she
said,  =He was like a son to me. This
is why I want to tell you about him
This is why you must make  
people, particularly our people, our
=Puerto =Rican children,  
understand what he was.  He was like my
son, and he is all our sons in a way.
We must make sure that the  
children never forget how beautiful a
man he was 
The next person to touch =Roberto
=Clemente was =Pedro =Zarrilla, who
owned the =Santurce club. He  
discovered =Clemente on the country
softball team and signed him for a
four-hundred-dollar bonus
He was a skinny kid,  =Pedro
=Zarrilla recalls,  but even then he
had those large, powerful hands,
which we all noticed right away.
He joined us, and he was nervous.
But I watched him, and I said to
myself, This kid can throw, and
this kid can run, and this kid can
hit. We will be patient with him.
The season had been through  
several games before I finally sent him
in to play. 



late =Monday morning. Got to miss
some school myself. 
Well,  she sighed resignedly
Well, it's finals week anyway. 
There you are. You know you can't
when you got exams coming up. 
They worked together, cleaning
cages. =Ellie fixed two crates to carry
birds in. This would be a good  
training flight for them, over four =hundred
miles, and the birds could always use
the practice. If one of their birds
came in with a good time, =Billy and
=Ellie decided they might even risk the
entry fee and enter it in one of the
local races.
Then it was suppertime, and they
left the barn loft. =Billy carried the two
light wicker crates, holding fifteen
racing birds.
 Where are you going, =Bill?  asked the
=Millionaire.
 Over the mountains. Be back on
=Monday. 
 Get good pay for it, with you? 
 Good enough.  =Billy glanced at
the old man. What fancy  
moneymaking scheme was he going to  
propose now?
But the old man said only,  Well,
do be careful about that downgrade.
Shift your gears low before you come
over the top. It drops down in a
hurry. 
Sure. Thanks, =Pop.  He shoved
back from the table. Reaching out, he
tweaked =Ellie's nose.  Good luck in
your exam =Monday. 
Something fearful twisted down
through =Ellie's stomach, starting at the
tip of her nose.
=Billy!  she cried, running out the
back door after him.  Please! Let me
come with you! 
He stooped for the bird crates.
 Now, =Sis. Exams. Remember? 
But I can make them up,  she
pleaded desperately.
He patted her arm.  Next week.
Then you'll be through school. Free
all summer.  =Seeing the unreconciled
look in her eye, he said persuasively,
They're going to let me take a =Salt
=Lake run soon. You can come on that,
and I'll even let you drive across the
desert. 
And with that promise, she let him
go, holding her right arm high in
silent farewell.
All that night =Ellie tossed fitfully on
her cot, the bottom half of which she
shared with =Jim =Dandy. Several times
the little boy in his sleep protested at
her movements, which twisted the
blankets off him. Each time, =Ellie
woke up and, reaching down, gently
covered him again.
In the gray, cold light before dawn,
she finally arose and, tucking the little
boy up firmly, dressed and went to
the kitchen. Searching in the  
breadbox, she saw a new loaf of bread and
the heel of an old loaf that was dried
hard.
 Good for the teeth,  she told  
herself, and took the hard crust.



 We'll go to Mr =Baxter's, and if it
shows no lights, we'll knock until he
comes to his ,door. 
=Tom had to agree, for he couldn't
think of anything else for them to do.
The mist had left the river =After
they crossed the bridge, he turned
=Drew into the =Dutch =Hill road, and
they went up the steep pitch to the
canal. They got past the house beside
the towpath before anybody came
out. But a man yelled after them,
wanting to know where they thought
they were going this late.
Tom didn't answer. He hoped they
had got far enough away so they could
not be recognized.

Misgivings seized =Tom as =Drew
turned the corner into =Leyden =Street,
his hoofs thumping a loud tattoo on
the packed dry dirt. =Boonville had
gone to bed. The only lighted  
window they had seen since coming off
the towpath opposite the depot was in
the front of Dr =Grover's house, no
doubt left on for his return from some
back farm.
Calling on anybody so late at night
didn't seem a proper thing to do, but
as they rolled up the street, =Tom was
reassured to see a light reach out  
toward the street from a window of the
lawyer's little house. =Billy-Bob =Baxter
was undoubtedly still up, working his
mind over whatever case he had in
hand at the moment. =Tom turned
=Drew into the drive beside the house,
so that the wagon was hardly  
noticeable from the street, and gave =PollyAnn the lines to hold
while he went
up on the front porch and knocked
gently on a pane of the office window.
He couldn't see =Billy-Bob from where
he stood, but heard the scrape of his
desk chair being shoved back, and
presently the lawyer came into view
in his worn, shiny jacket. He had
taken his watch from his waistcoat
pocket, and now he was putting it
back. When =Billy-Bob saw =Tom
standing outside the window, he  
nodded and a moment later opened the
front door.
 Well, =Tom,  he said,  must be
something on your mind to bring you
here this late. I heard you had a barn
raising on your place today. 
=Tom said yes, they had had one.
 Should have thought that would
be enough for one day, even for a
strapper like you. But come in and
tell me what you want. 
=Tom didn't go in. He told how he
and =Polly =Ann had decided to go up to
the =Breen place and why. And then



how the =Flanchers had showed up.
They would have been lucky to get away.
=Billy-Bob looked at him a minute.
 You mean you found something,
Tom told him.  Two trunks, not big ones. 
With money in them? 
We didn't want to stop to look. 
You've got them outside in the
wagon? Where anybody can see them?  

other hand, the =United =States is no
longer going to drift slowly into
metrication as it has been doing for
over a =hundred years. No one has
said that metrication can take place
in less than several years, and it is
accepted as a matter of course that in
a few areas there will never be  
conversion. These special areas may be
roughly divided into two categories:
  traditional matters in which the
customary system of measurement
is such an important part that there
would almost certainly be  
widespread resistance to change and
 areas where it would be  
economic idiocy to try metrication.
Football is an example in the first
category. The length of a football
field will no doubt remain =100 yards
instead of changing to =91'44 meters,
and you are unlikely ever to hear a
sports announcer say,  =Third down,
one and =eight-tenths meters to go. 
Baseball diamonds and basketball
courts will probably continue to be
laid out in customary units also, at
least in the near future. In track
and field and swimming, however,
distances that haven't already been
metricized probably will be rather
quickly, because =Olympic  
measurements in these sports are all in  
metric terms. Broad jumps, high jumps,
pole vaults, and distance throws are
already measured in metric terms in
many schools in order to make it
easier to prepare for the =Olympics.
There would probably not be a
great deal of opposition to adopting
complete metrication in  
track and field competition.
In the second category a good  
example is railroad lines. Certainly it
would be foolish to suggest that all
the railroad track in the country be
torn up and replaced with the
metric-gauge track used in =Europe.
Metrication will never take place,
even as track wears out and has to
be replaced, because two different
gauges of track would require two
different sets of wheels and axles
for every locomotive and car that
passed over the track. The =United
=States will keep its railroads  
nonmetric because that is the only  
sensible thing to do.
The goal of the federal  
metrication program will be to upset
everyday life as little as possible
during the changeover but to  
convert as quickly as possible in
those areas that count the most.
Areas that are thought to count
most are those where metrication



will either make computations  
easier or transactions between  
individuals simpler
The metric system is the only
measurement system ever to come
close to worldwide adoption.  
=Thousands of years after the dawn of
civilization, we are finally going
to have a universal language of
measurement.


What could be more =American
than a story about boys in blue
jeans looking for excitement in the
 spooked-up and romantic  =Deep
=South of the =1940's?  The  
=Greenwood =Boys  is pure =Americana, yet
the very words the author uses can
be traced back to origins outside the
=United =States. Our language, like
our population and culture, springs
from many different sources. In
=American literature the =South is
often portrayed in romantic tones,
yet the very word romantic comes to
us from across the =Atlantic =Ocean,
from =Rome, of course. Romantic is
a variation of the word romance.
Romance derives from a =Latin word
that originally meant  =Roman;
made in =Rome.  =The word has
evolved and expanded its meaning.
Today the word romantic conveys
the adventure and mystery that
=Willie =Morris remembered in the
=Deep =South.
The blue jeans that =Willie and his
friends wore seem =American, but
they weren't originally. Jeans are
named after the heavy cotton fabric
of which they are made, jean. This
fabric is named after the place
where it was first made, =Genoa,
=Italy. Denim, a similar fabric used
to make blue jeans, is also named



=Niko =Tinbergen, the world's foremost herring-gull expert, says
that in the winter the gulls never show any behavior indicating
personal attachment.  A winter flock,  he claims,  seems to be
made up of individuals, not pairs. 
Once they return to =Smuttynosc, it is as if the mates had never
parted. As =Tinbergen observed,  The pair keep strictly together,
and when they move from one area to another, they are attached
to each other as if by a string.  This ornithologist saw one pair
in flight instantly recognize each other at the summer breeding
place at a distance of =thirty yards. He later observed many more
proofs of this amazing power of recognition, with mates identifying
one another at great distances.

Incubating the Eggs
Both birds begin collecting twigs, moss, discarded feathers,
seaweed, and grass for the nest. When the nest has been partially
formed, they take turns sitting in it, picking up and rearranging
material while in the nest, and restlessly turning in all  
directions, with a purpose. The constant adding and rearranging,
and the movement while in the nest, results in a well-rounded,
well-lined nest-cup about eighteen inches in diameter and four
inches thick.
When the female lays the first egg, there is an abrupt change in
the daily rhythm of the pair. Prior to this, the birds were
together continually, at their club, in the air, on the flights for
food. Now, although the first egg is rarely incubated, it is always
guarded by one of the pair because other gulls will eat the egg if
given the chance. At intervals of two, often three, days the other
eggs are  laid. The normal clutch is three greenish or bluish eggs
about the size of chicken eggs, speckled with brown, black, or
purple spots. The spots break up the contours of the eggs, helping
camouflage them against the neutral background of the nest.
Now the incubation begins in carnest. Both gulls take turns
sitting on the eggs. A bird may occasionally leave the nest for a
period but rarely for more than ten minutes and only if its
nest-relief is late, which seldom happens. Gulls are serious  
incubators, so much so that if the female arrives early to spell
the male, often he will not leave the eggs until his incubation
clock tells him to do so.



facet of remote cultures before the
traditional ways had vanished.
They must study people's dress,
what they ate, how they worked,
and how they played. Important
too were their family life, their
child-rearing habits, and the work
considered appropriate for women
and for men.
Many people had preceded  
=Margaret =Mead to =Samoa: missionaries,
government officials, and tourists.
Because the culture as a whole was
quite well-known, =Margaret planned
to focus her energies on a single
area of investigation: the life of  
adolescent girls in =Samoan society.
She was curious to see if their  
experiences were different from those of
teen-age girls in our own society.
=Margaret wanted to find out how
the =Samoan girls spent their days
and how they made friends. She
also wanted to know if the teen-age
years in =Samoa were a period of
 storm and stress,  as they  
generally were in =American society.
The day the ship was to arrive in
=Samoa, =Margaret was up at dawn
She had never seen a =South =Sea
island, and she watched with  
fascination as it came into view.
When =Margaret stepped off the
boat in =Pago =Pago  =pahng'go
=pahng'go  that =October, her only
companions were a camera, a  
portable typewriter, several fat  
notebooks, and six cotton dresses. No
one was waiting for her. She found
no one eager to help her learn or
ready to share her enthusiasm and
anxieties. For the first time,  
=Margaret was confronted with the  
loneliness of field work.
For six discouraging weeks,  
=Margaret lived in a hotel room in =Pago
=Pago. Each day she walked around
the port town, trying out her new
=Samoan phrases on the children.
But she remained apart from the
community she wanted to  
understand. Finally, a woman =Margaret
had met in =Honolulu came to her
aid. She found a family that would
adopt =Margaret, the family of a
chief in the village of =Vaitogi  
For ten days, =Margaret lived as an
adopted family member in the
chief's household, gaining firsthand
experience in =Samoan culture. She
slept on a pile of mats, learned the
rules of =Samoan eating etiquette,
and had her first dancing lessons.
Though her legs ached from  
learning to sit correctly on the ground,
the physical pain was a welcome
change from the pain of isolation
she had previously felt.
The chief's daughter, =Fa'amotu
=fah'ah-moh'too , was =Margaret's
constant companion. She taught
=Margaret everything from how to
identify high-ranking officials to the
names of special leaves used to
weave mats. She also provided
=Margaret with her first contacts
with young girls in =Samoan society.


person should be one of the easiest things in the world.  But it's
not and I don't know why. =Knowing this, though, I call try!

=Nick is asleep with his head on my knees. What a beautiful dog he
is! And also what a good friend! I'm going to miss him a lot I talk
to him, I sing to him, I hug him, I get protection and 
companionship from him, he's better than a person! I've never
really liked a dog before, but then, =Nick is a lot more than a
dog.
I'm going to take a walk!

I feel deliciously good! I slept deeply and easily last night, I
was
warm, dry, and comfortable, in spite of the rain.
So, I'm rested, not hungry, and it's a bright, sunny day.
I had a visitor! Dan showed up early this morning to see if I had
survived the rain. I was annoyed at first, I had given him strict
orders to stay away, and besides, why shouldn't I have survived?
But
I can't stay mad at him, so I showed him my shelter, very
proudly I must say, and asked him to leave off a book or two at the
signpost, and then he left I realized after he had gone that I
honestly don't miss people at all.
I've got rope strung up between two trees, and my poncho and
ground cloth and clothes are waving in the breeze.  My mosquito
netting is also hanging up to dry, so it's sort of hard to walk
around without bumping into something. The sun and breeze are warm,
though, so things shouldn't take long to dry. I've got to go
collecting.  I'm going to feast tonight. I went over to the field
and got baby milkweed pods and leaves, apples, and about two dozen
grasshoppers. =Dan did leave a couple of books on the signpost, so
I got those, and then I went for water
~;it~l~. W;lt~ t~ w ~i('ti~.

in ~acll 5-C;cn~ l'.l~ka~e ol C;ar.~ cl
~,hcw."
"l~r~si(lcn~ cards~" I aske(l,
dismaycd.
~ rcad on: "(,ollcct a C;omplete
Set and Reccivc an Of~cial lmitation
Major League Bascball Glove,
Embossed with Lefty Grovc's
Autograph."
Glove or no glove, who could be-	I
come excited about presidents, of all
things?
Rollie Tremaine stared at the
sign. "Benjamin Harrison, for crying
out loud," he said. "Why would I
want Benjamin Harrison when I've
got twenty-two Ken Maynards?"
I felt the warmth of guilt creep
over me. I jingled the coins in my
pocket, but the sound was hollow.
No more Ken Maynards to buy. I
thought of how I had betrayed Ar-
mand and, worst of all, my father.
"I'll see you after supper," I
called over my shoulder to Roger as
I hurried away toward home. I
pounded up the steps and into the
house, only to learn that Armand
had already taken Yolande and
Yvette uptown to shop for the birth-
day present.
I pedaled my bike furiously
through the streets, ignoring the in-
dignant horns of automobiles as I
sliced throu~h the traffic. Finally I
saw Armand and my sisters emerge
from the Monument Men's Shop.

slickb.lll, ollc ol' ~lle Illost pop~llar ol'

t~(.' stJ'('~ t g.llll(~S.
Bol-r~ Jllly 1~, 1'.337, in Nortl1
I'lliladclp}-ia, 13ill Cosby hacl bccome
an expcr~ in all ~l-c s~ree~ g,amcs by
~he ~ime hc was ~cn. By ~hen, he also
had his first set of sports heroes--
Joe Louis and Sugar Ray Robinson,
world-champion boxers; Buddy
Young, a pro-football star; Jackie
Robinson, of the Brooklyn Dodgers,
the first black athlete to play in the
major leagues; and the Harlem
Globetrotters basketball team. When
he wasn't playing with his friends or
working at odd jobs, Bill would lis-
ten to radio broadcasts of his heroes'
games in the family living room.
(Television was in its infancy then,
and the Cosbys were among the
many families who didn't own a set.)
While in elementary school,
young Bill had begun to develop a
reputation as- a clown with a high
degree of intelligence but with little
desire to do his homework. Mary
Forchic, his fifth- and sixth-grade
teacher, wrote on one of Bill's re-
port cards: "In this classroom there
is one comedian and it is I. If you
want to be one, grow up, get your
own stage, and get paid for it."
Nonetheless, Miss Forchic en-
couraged Bin to perform in school
plays. "I don't know how to act," he
told the teacher, but he grinned
when she retorted, "You've been act-
ing from the first day of class."
Bill first became involved in
sports while attending FitzSimons

W}lcl ~V~ t l~o o~         .l t l ~ -
ct ~tl l~-~cll~ t .
"You wcre rcaclillg abo~ his
stratlgc myslery, I~crhal)s~l'
I hc womall~ wilh a sharl) intakc
of breath, answcrccl, "Ycs, sir. Oh,
sir, it secms as if I couldn't think ol
anything elsc."
"Ah?" he said, without surprise.
"It certainly appears to be a remark-
able affair."
Remarkable indeed the affair
seemed. In a tiny little room within
ten steps of Broadway, at half-past
nine o'clock on a fine evening, Miss
Hinch had killed John Catherwood
with the light sword she used in her
well-known representation of the ~a-
ther of his Country. So far the trag-
edy was commonplace enough.
What had given it extraordinary in-
terest was the amazing faculty of the
woman, which had made her fa-
mous while she was still in her
teens. She happened to be the most
astonishing impersonator of her
time. Her brilliant act consisted of a
series of character changes, many of
them done in full sight of the audi-
ence with the assistance only of a
small table of properties half con-
cealed under a net. Some of these
transformations were so amazing as
to be beyond belief, even after one
had sat and watched them. Not her
appearance only, but voice, speech,
manner, carriage, all shifted incredi-
bly to fit the new part; so that the
woman appeared to have no perma-
nent form or fashion of her own,

A chart is a drawing that shows
organization or relationships through
the use of words, pictures, and sym-
bols. A chart can show such things as
the relationships among several gene-
rations of a family or the steps in-
volved in waxing a car. Charts bring
the many parts of something together
all in one representation so that you
can see the whole picture.
Imagine that your school is having
its annual Spring Festival and that you
want to work on one of the commit-
tees that will be planning it. At the
first meeting, the student president
presents a chart showing the organi-
zation of students to work on the fes-
tival (Figure 1). Notice that you can
read the chart from either the top or
the bottom. From the top, you can
see who will be working directly with
the student president and the teacher
advisor. From the bottom, you can see
the seven committees and which
chairperson will be in charge of each.
An organizational chart such as this
often uses lines to connect labeled
boxes or circles. The lines show the
relationship of parts of the organiza-
tion and how they fit together in the
whole.
There is no limit to the kind of
information that can be presented on
a chart. As well as showing organiza-
tions, charts can show sequences, rep-
resentations of objects, or ideas.
Charts help you to understand by giv-
ing you a clear picture of what the
parts are and how those parts fit
together.
&&000 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN  (1986)  8TH GRADE        HM19868T.ASC
TRIUMPHS  Grade 8
Xeroxed by LW, Scanned by DPH, Edited by JWM
EDITED BY JANICE MASON April 3, 1993
SOURCE: Kutztown Univ (Pa.)

&&111

 I had been on the trail about two hours when I stopped to rest
where a small stream formed a large, deep pool that opened out
into the river. The sky was overcast, and a cold wind whipped
up the narrow river valley. As it whistled through the trees, it
sounded like heavy surf hissing toward shore.
 When I knelt to drink, out of habit I studied the soft, damp
earth by the water's edge. At first I didn't identify what was
before my eyes because it was so unexpected. Then it registered. A
footprint, the patterned tread engraved deep into the dark earth.
 Another human being, more people, food, houses, telephones,
home! I leaped to my feet and shouted, jumping up and down in
excitement. The wind tore the words from my mouth.
 I searched along the riverbank for more signs and immediately
found them. Almost at the river's edge were several more boot
prints and a place that had been flattened by something heavy being
dragged up on the bank. It had to be a boat. Two different sets of
boot prints told me that there were two men. Both were heavy,
because the prints sank deep in the ground. The men had been in
this place quite recently, because the fine, thin ridges around the
footprint indentations were sharp and damp; time had not eroded
them, and they had been made after the rain.
 I shouted again, hoping the men were near enough to hear me,
but there was no answer. Standing right on the edge of the river,
I craned my neck to look up and down the rushing band of water. It
flowed straight south for a while, then, gray under a gray sky,




and this was a different story. For the shoulder of the mountain
was now close above them, and, the more clearly they saw it, the
more clearly they realized that it was to be a truly formidable
obstacle. Perhaps a half-hour's climb above them the ridge
ended. It was not merely interrupted, as had been the case at
the =Fortress, but ended, for good, and beyond it the
mountain soared up in what, from below, seemed an absolutely
perpendicular wall. =Rudi tried to estimate its height from its
base, where the ridge stopped, to where its top, the shoulder
proper, looked like a white-rimmed battlement against the sky.
Two hundred feet it might be; or three hundred; foreshortening
made it hard to tell. But height alone, steepness alone, did
not matter. What mattered was that there be a way.
 =Rudi bent his head. He concentrated on the next step, and
the next. A half-hour passed; and in one thing, at least, his
judgment had been right, for presently the men up ahead
stopped and waited. Coming up beside them, he stopped too.
They had reached the end of the ridge.
 And now four pairs of eyes searched the mountainside
above them. the first thing they saw was encouraging; for it
was not quite so steep as it had appeared from farther down,
and it was not smooth, but broken up into hundreds of ribs and
buttresses, clefts and gullies. So far, so good. But what was
good was at the same time bad, or at least utterly perplexing,
for the very number of these turned the wall into a formless
maze. On the ridge, except for a few short stretches, the route
had been clear. There had been only one way to go. Whereas here
there was a whole labyrinth of ways, or, rather, possible
ways, each of which might bring them to the shoulder, but
might also, and far more likely, be merely a false trail, leading
nowhere.  They peered upward.  They pointed.  =Franz favored
one route, =Saxo another, and another argument would have
ensued if =Winter had not stopped them.  It was useless to argue



made entirely of metal except for
rubber joints. It never flew either.
 Even more unlikely was a late
=1930's =Italian entry. It was all metal
and was designed so that the pilot
could climb into the suit through a
large hole in the back, presumably
then to be carried by a half-dozen
bearers into the airplane.
 A hand crank jutted from the
chest of a =1935 =French suit, giving it
the appearance of a wind-up toy.
Back home, analysts in =United =States
=Naval =Intelligence pondered the
meaning of the crank, as well as the
odd, spring-loaded mechanisms on
each wrist. Within months of its 
unveiling they learned through a 
"reliable source" that the purpose of the
crank was to let the pilot control
the air pressure. The purpose of the
spring-loaded mechanisms was so
that the pilot could turn the crank.
(The springs applied pressure to the
backs of the hands, pushing them
into fists when the suit was inflated.)
But a lot of the suit was "highly 
secret," said the source, leaving the
analysts to wonder how well it all
worked, which was not very well.
 During the following decades,
flight technology developed rapidly,
from planes to jets to spacecraft.
From the early =1940's on, when it
became possible to pressurize airplane cabins, the pressure suit
became a secondary back-up system.
Then, with the first space walk in
=1965, followed by astronauts walking 
on the moon in =1969, the pressure
suit became the primary
protection system, a true space
suit.  Yet even in this era some
unusual suits cropped up along the
way.
 For instance, there were the
"pressure cells."  They were for long
flights.  A crew member who became
ill because of breathing difficulties
could be put in this bag, zipped up
and pressurized while the rest of the
crew went on with the flight.  The
pressure cell looked like a giant
sweet potato.  Another suit was even
fancier  it had a single arm that
terminated in a mittlike hand.




(=Wozzeck, carrying a satchel, comes in, followed by =Clay,
=Roxanna, and =Greeley.)

=WOZZECK: What's this all about, =Harry?
=HARRY: I've got an oyster I want you to open.
=WOZZECK: That's what the kids have been telling me.
=ROXANNA: He doesn't believe there's a pearl in the oyster, either.
=WOZZECK: Of course not! What foolishness!
=CLAY: There's a big pearl in it.
=WOZZECK: Okay, give me the oyster. I'll open it. Expert watch
          repairer, to open an oyster!
=HARRY: How much is a big pearl worth, =Louie?
=WOZZECK: Oh, a =hundred. Two =hundred, maybe.
=HARRY: A very big one?
=WOZZECK: Three, maybe.
=THE WRITER: I've looked at that oyster, and I'd like to buy it.  
             (To =Clay.) How much do you want for it?
=CLAY: I don't know.
=THE WRITER: How about three =hundred?
=GREELEY: Three =hundred dollars?
=CLAY: Is it all right, Mr =Van =Dusen?
=HARRY: (He looks at =The =Writer, who nods.) Sure it's all right.
        (The =Writer hands =Clay the money.)
=CLAY (looking at the money and then at =The =Writer): But suppose 
      there ain't a pearl in it?
=THE =WRITER: There is, though.
=WOZZECK: Don't you want to open it first?
=THE =WRITER: No, I want the whole thing. I don't think the pearl's
      stopped growing.
=CLAY: He says there is a pearl in the oyster, Mr =Van =Dusen.
=HARRY: I think there is, too, =Clay; so why don't you just go on 
        home and give the money to your mother?




appeal. Folding the quilt as small as we might, and wrapping some
sausage and apples within, we crossed behind the =Shipmans'
house, reached the road, and thence proceeded to the phantom's
 stone. (=Asa dubbed it thus one day, and the name has
taken.)
 As part of our plan I carried along the fateful lesson book.
Should we be seen, or questioned, by neighbors I was well
rehearsed to say that I was in search of a certain tree, which I
intended sketching. =Cassie had come to companion me; and
see, she carried a worn-out quilt should we become too cold. A
pat excuse, we all believed, to fit the situation.
 The woods, as ever, were still and cold; the only sound the
clacking of branches as, frozen, they touched one another.
Sketchbook or no we did not tarry and though we saw no human
sign, sped about our errand.
 I turned but once as we left the spot where =A had
discovered the fugitive's prints and which he'd occasioned to
show to me along with a fire's remains. Of this I shall remember
forever the look of that cold and wintry clearing, the quilt tucked
in the foot of a tree and folded carefully to display a patch of
brightest scarlet. I meant it also as a greeting, a flash of color,
a bit of warmth, the only human thing to cheer that icy
desolation.
 =Asa was at the gate. "Did you do it," he asked, low-voiced?
"Yes," we said; and all of a sudden hot tears overflowed. Again I
saw the patch of scarlet and remembered my mother's voice as
she told her stories. "That gray," she'd said, "was a waistcoat
once, the drab's my father's trousers.  'Tis said the pieces of
scarlet are old, cut from the back of a =Hessian's coat left behind
in battle..."
 "There, there, =Cath," said =Asa at last.  Then he shifted from
foot to foot, reached out for the edge of my cloak, and with it
wiped my cheek.


One way is to describe in clear,
precise language how the characters
feel and act.  The mood in "=The
=Twenty-sixth =Day is fear.  =Lisa's
fear as she tried to work her way out of
the wilderness where she has been
lost for almost a month and to avoid
the man who has shot his companion
and tried to shoot her.
 After =Lisa escaped from =Red =Beard,
she describes how her body reacts to
what she has been through:  "I was
overcome with fear.  My teeth started
to chatter, and I tried to hold my
shaking body still."  And still later, she
says, "I melted back into the forest, 
sick with despair."  The author's effective
presentation of =Lisa's feelings and 
actions sets the mood of this story.
 An author may also use the setting
to create the mood of the story.  In
"=The =Needle's =Eye," the author 
describes the mountain wall as "broken
up into =hundreds of ribs and buttresses,
clefts and gullies."  There is 
only "blue emptiness" beneath  =Rudi's
feet, and when the climbers rest, they
are "on a tiny platform in a sea of
space."  Through these vivid descriptions,
the mood of danger builds until
we sense it clearly.
 To create the mood effectively, the
author must make the descriptions
vivid. To do this, authors use imagery
in their writing.
 Imagery is the use of words that
appeal to your senses, get you to see,
hear, feel, taste, or smell what is being
described. You will learn more about
imagery when you learn about poetry
in =Magazine 7. Figurative language,
which you studied in =Magazine 3, is
also a part of imagery.
 Another way in which authors 
develop the mood, as well as the
theme, of the story is with symbolism.
Symbolism is the use of an object
to stand for itself and to represent
something else, usually something
with a larger meaning and importance. 
For example, as =Rudi and his
party try to climb the =Needle, it 
becomes the symbol of their victory or
defeat,   either they will get past the
=Needle and up to the summit of the
=Citadel or they will be stopped at the
=Needle and have to go back down
without conquering the mountain. The
=Needle comes to dominate the story,
just as it towers over the climbers. It is
a symbol that adds to the mood of
danger and struggle in this story.


factory.  A steady worker when the
shop had enough work, he quickened
with good humor on =Friday 
nights and weekends, and he was
fond of making long speeches about
the good things in life.  In the
middle of the =Depression, for instance,
he paid cash for a piano, of
all things, and insisted that my twin
sisters, =Yolanda and =Yvette, take
lessons once a week.
 I took a dime from my pocket
and handed it to =Armand.
 "Thanks, =Jerry," he said.  I hate
to take your last cent."
 "That's all right," I replied, turning
away and consoling myself with
the thought that twenty cents was
better that nothing at all.
 When I arrived at =Lemire's, I
sensed disaster in the air.  =Roger 
=Lussier was kicking disconsolately at
a tin can in gutter, and =Rollie
=Tremaine sat sullenly on the steps in
front of the store.
 "Save your money," =Roger said.
He had known about my plans to
splurge on the cards.
 "What's the matter," I asked.
 "There's no more cowboy cards,:
=Rollie =Tremaine said.  "The 
company's not making any more."
 "They're going to have president
cards instead," =Roger complained,
his face twisting with disgust.  He
pointed to the store window.
"Look!"
 A placard in the window announced:
"Attention, =Boys and 
=Girls.  Watch for the =New =Series.
=Presidents of the =United =States.  Free
in Each =5-Cent Package of =Caramel 
=Chew."
 "=President cards," I asked, 
dismayed?
 I read on: "Collect a Complete
Set and Receive an =Official =Imitation
=Major =League =Baseball =Glove,
Embossed with =Lefty =Grove's
Autograph."
 Glove or no glove, who could 
become excited about presidents, of all
things?
 =Rollie =Tremaine stared at the
sign.  "=Benjamin =Harrison, for crying
out loud," he said.  "Why would I
want =Benjamin =Harrison when I've
got =twenty-two =Ken =Maynards?"
 I felt the warmth of guilt creep
over me.  I jingled the coins in my
pocket, but the sound was hollow.
No more =Ken =Maynards to buy.  I
thought of how I had betrayed
=Armand and, worse of all, my father.
 "I'll see you after supper," I 
called over my shoulder to =Roger as
I hurried away toward the home.  I
pounded up the steps and into the
house, only to learn that =Armand
had already taken =Yolande and 
=Yvette uptown to shop for their
birthday present.
 I pedaled my bike furiously
through the streets, ignoring the 
indignant horns of automobiles as I
sliced through the traffic.  Finally I
saw =Armand and my sisters emerge
from the =Monument =Men's =Shop.


 When =Bill =Cosby was growing
up, home to him was a large, decaying
tenement in =North Philadelphia.
He lived there with his mother and
two brothers; his father was a 
cook in the =Navy and was away at
sea most of the time.  When he was
not attending school or helping with
the household chores, young =Bill
=Cosby could usually be found in one
place: the street.
 The street, to most youngsters
living in crowded cities like
=Philadelphia, was not only a roadway for
cars.  It was a playground where
some of the most unusual games in
=America were being played.
 When =Bill =Cosby was a youngster,
a popular game was punchball.  
It was much like baseball, except 
that the players hit a rubber ball
with their fists instead of a baseball
with a bat.  In young =Cosby's neighborhood
(which also produced basketball
stars =Wilt =Chamberlain, =Walt
=Hazzard, and =Wally =Jones) manhole
covers were used as bases.  A 
"punch" off second base, a distant
manhole cover straight away, was
the ultimate achievement.  It was 
called a two-sewer hit.  In a regular
baseball game, it would have been a
home run.
 Other favorite games were stoopball,
which required accuracy in
bouncing a ball against the front
steps of somebody's house; "=Chinese
handball," which required the player
to hit the ball so that it bounced 
once before it reached the wall; and
stickball, one of the most popular of
the street games.
 Born on =July 12, =1937, in =North
=Philadelphia, =Bill =Cosby had become
an expert in all the street games by
the time he was ten.  By then, he also
had his first set of sports heroes 
=Joe =Louis and =Sugar =Ray =Robinson,
world champion boxers; =Buddy
=Young, a pro-football star; =Jackie
=Robinson, of the =Brooklyn =Dodgers,
the first black athlete to play in the
major leagues; and the =Harlem 
=Globetrotters basketball team.  When
he wasn't playing with his friends or
working at odd jobs, =Bill would listen
to radio broadcasts of his heroes'
games in the family living room.
(Television was in its infancy then,
and the =Cosby's were among the
many families who didn't own a set.)
 While in elementary school,
young =Bill had begun to develop a
reputation as a clown with a high
degree of intelligence but with little
desire to do his homework.  =Mary
=Forchic, his fifth and sixth-grade
teacher, wrote on one of =Bill's report
cards:  "In this classroom there 
is one comedian and it is I.  If you
want to be one, grow up, get your 
own stage, and get paid for it."
 Nonetheless, Miss =Forchic encouraged
=Bill to perform in school
plays.  "I don't know how to act," he
told the teacher, but he grinned
when she retorted, "You've been acting
front he first day of class."
 =Bill first become involved in
sports while attending =FitzSimons


she bent forward and said, "Excuse
me, but would you please let me
look at your paper a minute, sir?"
 The man came out of his reverie
instantly and looked up with almost
an eager smile,  "Certainly.  Keep it if
you like; I am quite through with it."
 The woman opened the paper
with gloved fingers.  The garish
headlines told the story at a glance:
EARTH OPENED AND SWALLOWED

MISS =HINCH  HEADQUARTERS

VIRTUALLY ABANDONS CASE 

EVEN =JESSIE =DARK SEEMS STUMPED.

Below the spread was the story,
marked "by =Jessie =Dark."  =Jessie
=Dark, it was clear, was a most
extraordinary journalist, a "crime
expert."  More than this, she was a
crime expert to be taken seriously, it
seemed, no mere office desk
sleuth, but an actual performer with
a formidable list of notches on her
gun; and nearly every one of them
involved the capture of a woman.
 Nevertheless, it could not be pretended
that the paragraphs in this
evening's extra seemed to foreshadow
a new triumph on the part 
of =Jessie =Dark at an early date, and
the old woman in the car presently
laid down the newspaper with an
irrepressible sigh.
 The man glanced toward her
kindly.  The sigh was so audible that
it seemed to be almost an invitation;
besides, public interest in the great
case was so tense that conversation
between total strangers was the rule
wherever two or three were gathered
together.
 "You were reading about this
stranger mystery, perhaps?"
 The woman, with a sharp intake
of breath, answered, "Yes, sir.  Oh,
sir, it seems as if I couldn't think of
anything else."
 "Ah," he said, without surprise?
"It certainly appears to be a remarkable
affair."
 Remarkable indeed the affair 
seemed.  In a tiny little room within
then steps of =Broadway, at half past
nine o'clock on a fine evening, Miss
=Hinch had killed =John =Catherwood
with the light sword she used in her
well known representation of the =Father
of his =Country.  So far the  tragedy
was commonplace enough.
What had given it extraordinary interest
was the amazing faculty of the
woman, which had made her famous
while she was still in her 
teens.  She happened to be the most
astonishing impersonator of her
time.  Her brilliant act consisted of a
series of character changes, many of
them done in full sight of the audience
with the assistance only of a
small table of properties half concealed
under a net.  Some of these
transformations were so amazing as
to be beyond belief, even after one
had sat and watched them.  Not her
appearance only, but voice, speech,
manner, carriage, all shifted 
incredibly to fit the new part; so that the
woman appeared to have no permanent
form or fashion of her own,


 A chart is a drawing that shows
organization or relationships through
the use of words, pictures, and symbols.
A chart can show such things as
the relationships among several
generations of a family or the steps
involved in waxing a car.  Charts bring
the many parts of something together
all in one representation so that you
can see the whole picture.
 Imagine that your school is having
its annual =Spring Festival and that you
want to work on one of the committees
that will be planning it.  At the
first meeting, the student president
presents a chart showing the organization 
of students to work on the festival
(Figure 1).  Notice that you can read 
the chart from wither the top or
the bottom.  From the top, you can
see who will be working directly with
the student president and the teacher
advisor.  From the bottom, you can see
the seven committees and which
chairperson will be in charge of each.
An organizational chart such as this
often uses lines to connect labeled
boxes or circles.  The lines show the
relationship of parts of the organization
and how they fit together in the
whole.
 There is not limit to the kind of
information that can be presented on
a chart.  As well as showing organizations,
charts can show sequences, representations
of objects, or ideas.
Charts help you to understand by giving
you a clear picture of what the
parts are and how those parts fit
together.


&&000 LAIDLAW BROTHERS  (1980)  8TH GRADE            LAI9808T.ASC
LEVEL 15  ENCOUNTERS  by Willian Eller et al
Source: Hobart WS  xerox scan edit by DPH  February 12, 1993

&&111



room reeked of camphor.  =Ugf, =ahfg,  choked =Briggs, like a
drowning man, for he had almost succeeded in stopping his
breath under the deluge of pungent spirits. He leaped out of
bed and groped toward the open window, but he came up
against one that was closed. With his hand, he beat out the
glass, and I could hear it crash and tinkle on the alleyway
below. It was at this juncture that I, in trying to get up, had
the uncanny sensation of feeling my bed above me! Foggy
with sleep, I now suspected, in my turn, that the whole  
uproar was being made in a frantic endeavor to extricate me
from what must be an unheard-of and perilous situation.
 Get me out of this!  I bawled.  Get me out!  I think I had
the nightmarish belief that I was entombed in a mine.
 =Gugh,  gasped =Briggs, floundering in his camphor.
By this time my mother, still shouting, pursued by  
=Herman, still shouting, was trying to open the door to the attic,
in order to go up and get my father's body out of the  
wreckage. The door was stuck, however, and wouldn't yield. Her
frantic pulls on it only added to the general banging and
confusion. Roy and the dog were now up, the one shouting
questions, the other barking.
Father, farthest away and soundest sleeper of all, had by
this time been awakened by the battering on the attic door.
He decided that the house was on fire.  I'm coming, I'm
coming!  he wailed in a slow, sleepy voice, it took him
many minutes to regain full consciousness. My mother, still
believing he was caught under the bed, detected in his  I'm
coming!  the mournful, resigned note of one who is  
preparing to meet his =Maker.  He's dying!  she shouted.
 I'm all right!  =Briggs yelled to reassure her.  I'm all
right!  He still believed that it was his own closeness to
death that was worrying =Mother. I found at last the light
switch in my room, unlocked the door, and =Briggs and I
joined the others at the attic door. The dog, who never did
like =Briggs, jumped for him, assuming that he was the  
culprit in whatever was going on, and =Roy had to throw =Rex
and hold him. We could hear =Father crawling out of bed  
upstairs. Roy pulled the attic door open, with a mighty jerk,
and =Father came down the stairs, sleepy and irritable 




They're just pictures      they don't really look like us.
They're still inside the ship! 
Wait, slow down,  Dr =Beldone said.  The aliens we've
been seeing are images? Holograms, maybe? Yes, that could
explain,  
Looking past Dr =Beldone's shoulder, =Johnny could see a
dozen soldiers running toward them. General =Hackett was
standing in his car and waving his arms madly.
Everything was happening so fast! But there was one thing
that =Johnny was sure of. The aliens, the real ones, not the
pretty pictures they were showing to the =Earthmen, the real
aliens were still inside their ship. They had never come out.
Then another thought struck him. What if the ship itself
was a picture, too? How could he ever talk to the  
starvisitors, get them to listen to him, help him?
Johnny had to know. Once =General =Hackett's soldiers got to
him, he would never get another chance to speak with the
aliens.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled his arm away from Dr  
=Beldone, spun around and raced toward the starship.
 Hey!  Dr =Beldone yelled.  =Johnny! No! 
The globe of the ship gleamed warmly in the sun. It
seemed almost to pulsate, to throb like a living, beating
heart. A heart made of gold, not flesh or muscle.
Johnny ran straight to the ship. With his arms flung out
before him, he jumped at it. His eyes squeezed shut at the
moment before he would hit the ship's shining hull.
Everything went black.
=Johnny felt nothing. His feet left the ground, but there was
no shock of hitting solid metal, no sense of jumping or  
falling or even floating. Nothing at all. He tried to open his eyes
and found that he couldn't. He couldn't move his arms or
legs. He couldn't even feel his heart beating.
I'm dead!

Slowly a golden light filtered into =Johnny's awareness. It
was like lying out in the desert sun with your eyes shut; the
light glowed behind his closed eyelids.
He opened his eyes and found that he was indeed lying



=Carrie shook her head no.  Not recently.  There were many
things on the list called  not recently.  But she was almost
ashamed to admit it.  Where do you swim? 
At the pool here,  =Ina chimed in.  I'm on the swimming
team. 
 You have a swimming team, too? 
 We compete at the =Nationals. I think you could really be
an asset to the team, =Carrie. 
=Carrie shrugged. She was confused. She had come just to
watch a game, but now she had a feeling she was into  
something deeper.
 Why not give it a try?  =Glen's voice was gentle.  We have
a lot of first-time swimmers on our team. 
His voice was soft, so understanding, it brought tears to
=Carrie's eyes. She knew he knew. She knew =Ina knew. And
because they knew all about wheelchairs, they knew about her
life. Instinctively, they knew the nevers, the frustrations. She
felt all pretenses leave her, the polite, right answers; the fake
smiles; the not caring when she cared so. And suddenly her
face was in her hands, and warm tears washed her fingertips.
=Glen's hand rumpled her hair.
 Oh, my.  =Carrie wiped her eyes dry.  I'm so ashamed. I
don't know what happened to me. 
=Ina moved closer.  You don't have to apologize, =Carrie, not
for feeling. 
 I have to get back to the team. I'll see you later.  =Glen
disappeared into the circle of basketball players.
And then the =Zippers basketball team was on the court
again, and =Carrie and =Ina and =Glen began to yell and scream
while the team fought for their last chance to come back in
the game.
 You can do it.  =Carrie found herself outyelling even =Ina.
 Come on .   come on.     =Glen wrung the towels in his
hands as point balanced point, but still the =Flyers' lead was
ten points, and it was clear that the champions were not
going to let this game get away.
 The =Zippers are going to lose,  =Carrie said, disappointed.
 That's okay. We have six more games to play. And we
stand a good chance even to come in second at the =Middle



In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it
streamed over the breakfast table, =Herbert laughed at his
fears. There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the
room that it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty,
shriveled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a
carelessness that betokened no great belief in its virtues.
I suppose all old soldiers are the same,  said Mrs =White.
The idea of our listening to such nonsense! How could
wishes be granted in these days? And if they could, how
could two =hundred pounds hurt you, =Father? 
Might drop on his head from the sky,  said the frivolous
=Herbert.
=Morris said the things happened so naturally,  said the
father,  that you might, if you so wished, attribute them to
coincidence.  
 =Well, don't break into the money before I come back, 
said =Herbert, as he rose from the table.  I'm afraid it'll turn
you into a mean, avaricious man, and we shall have to  
disown you. 
His mother laughed and, following him to the door,
watched him down the road and, returning to the breakfast
table, was very happy at the expense of her husband's  
credulity. All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to
the door at the postman's knock, only to find that the post
brought a tailor's bill.
=Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I  
expect, when he comes home,  she said, as they sat at dinner.
 I dare say,  said Mr =White,  but for all that, the thing
moved in my hand; that I'll swear to. 
 You thought it did,  said the lady soothingly.
 I say it did,  replied the other.  There was no thought
about it; I had just, what's the matter? 
His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious
movements of a man outside, who, peering in an undecided
fashion at the house, appeared to be trying to make up his
mind to enter. In mental connection with the two =hundred
pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed and
wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he paused at
the gate, and then walked on again. 



On a bitterly cold night in the
=Chicago area, the police were
searching for the body of a man
who had died in a shooting  
accident. After searching a =South
=Side canal for hours, the police
had failed to find anything.  
Finally they called on Irene
=Hughes, who had helped them
before.
 Where have you been  
looking?  Irene asked the officer
who phoned her.
 Over on the left side of the
canal,  was the reply.
 No wonder you didn't find
it,  she said.  The body is on
the right side, under some rocks.
It is coatless, and one shoe is
missing. The body has on a
white shirt. It will be found  
before =Sunday. 
The next morning the body
was found. It had been partly
hidden by some rocks and was
dressed as Irene had described
it. It was found by a passerby
before the police had a chance
to search in the area indicated
by =Irene when she talked to the
officer.
Who is =Irene =Hughes? How
could she seem to have known
where the body was?



Animals that have been  
captured and removed from their  
native habitat when they are infants
need to be taught how to survive
in the wilderness. Without careful
guidance, these animals usually die
of disease or starvation.
The task of rehabilitation
sounded easy to =Birute and =Rod.
They thought ex-captives, if old
enough, would be eager to return
to their jungle homelands. When
the =Brindamours agreed to accept
responsibility for a third  
rehabilitation station, they had no idea
how often they would be reminded
of a post-World =War I song,  =How
=You Going to =Keep =Em =Down on
the =Farm =After =They've =Seen
=Paree  =Paris . 
=Sugito was the first orangutan
to arrive for rehabilitation. He
was a year-old male who had been
kept in a small crate from the
time he'd been captured by  
poachers until he was brought to =Camp
=Leakey. Orangutans normally cling
continually to their mother until
they are at least a year and a half
old. =Sugito decided he'd recovered
his lost mother, he clutched  
=Birute ceaselessly, fighting and
howling if she tried to shift him
from one shoulder to another.
Changing clothing suddenly  
became a major operation for  
=Birute, the baby screeched and
clutched at whatever she was  
taking off.



coins with only a handful of
olives as covering.
Fairly dancing with excitement
at his find, the merchant put  
everything back in the jar, sealed
it, and returned upstairs to say
to his wife,  You were right,
love, I found those olives rotten
to the pip. So I sealed the jar
and =Ali =Sundos will find it just
as he left it. 
When morning came, however,
=Radwan hurried off to the  
market and bought a good quantity
of olives. Next he hurried back
to his cellar and emptied =Ali
=Sundos's jar, putting the gold
coins in a secure place. He then
filled the jar with the new  
olives, sealed it well, and put it in
the place where =Ali had left it.



The decision no longer rested in
=Miranda's power. Her feet on
their own floated into the beauty
parlor. Fumes of lotions, hair
spray, shampoo, creams, ammonia,
other unidentifiable odors drifted
forth. The place was humid and
musky as a dense underbrush. A
low hum of women's voices formed
the background, like twittering
birds when you enter a clearing in
the woods. A voice in a pink  
uniform stepped forward.
 May I help you? 
Peering past the pink uniform
into the parlor, =Miranda viewed a
row of seated women, heads
bound in rollers, seemingly  
attached to the domed dryers  
overhead. =Miranda pushed her hair
behind her ears, swallowed, and
said casually,  How much is a
haircut, please? 
The magic words set gears in
motion. =Miranda was instantly
turned over to another pink  
uniform, a young, brisk beautician
with a cropped head.
 Step up, miss,  she said,  
guiding =Miranda into a high leather
chair.
=Miranda, facing the mirror,
pulled her skirt over her knees
the way she did at the dentist's,
and stared at herself. Her  
sidewalk assurance had deserted her,
and a froglike woebegone look
made her eyes seem twice their
natural size.

&&000  MACMILLAN   (1983)   8TH GRADE              MAC9808T.ASC
DREAMS AND DECISIONS  by Carl B. Smith and Ronald Wardbaugh
Grade 8 Levels 43-48
Source: SUNY Cortland: xeroxed, scanned, edited by DPH
January 11, 1993

&&111


You may wonder why we don't simply avoid the trouble in the first
place by shielding the =Youngling planets, as we shield our own, so
that
they can't be found by a science less advanced than ours. Well,
it's a
nice idea, but it just wouldn't be practical. In the first place it
would be
awfully expensive. You can't shield only the inhabited planets,
you've
got to shield all the planets in their solar systems, because
otherwise
any astronomer who took the trouble to calculate planetary orbits
would realize that something peculiar was going on. It's one thing
to do this for the =Federation solar systems, but something else
again to do it for every =Youngling system that's been charted And
even if we could, it wouldn't solve anything; after all, we've
explored   comparatively few of the =millions of =Youngling systems
that exist. More than this, though, if we kept on =Youngling
planets the men and equipment that would be needed to shield them,
there would  be a very substantial risk of disclosure to the people
of those planets. And that would be a risk we couldn't take,
because the chances of their being harmed by it would be much
greater than the chances of their being picked for invasion. The
=Service has learned when to leave well enough alone.
It's a frustrating problem. It's heartbreaking, even, when you
really think about it. We have so much power, yet we can accomplish
so little! Our primary mission is to observe and to learn. The sad
fact is that =Youngling peoples are often wiped out, either through
colonization of their planet or through some other disaster that we
haven't any idea of how to prevent     and we may not even know
about it until it's too late. Once in a while, though, it happens
that we are in the right place at the right time to come to the
rescue. In the case of =Andrecia, and I knew that =Andrecia must be
such a case, for   mysterious unscheduled stops aren't made
otherwise, the rescuers were to be =Father, =Evrek, and a woman
named =llura whom I knew only slightly. =Father had been on leave
status, of course, and he had been   looking forward to the family
reunion, too, not having been back to the world of his birth since
before he married =Mother. But he was the only unassigned agent on
board qualified for such a command; that's the way it goes in the
=Service. He had chosen his assistants from among the members of
the survey teams aboard. Actually, he had asked for volunteers;
this in itself should have told me that he meant what he
said about the expected dangers. But all I could think of was
finding a way to be included. It didn't occur to me that to try to
get around a



which he attended for two years be
fore joining the =US Air =Force.
The =USAF sent him to =London,
=England, to work as a staff illustrator
in the graphics division. When he returned to =American and
civilian life in =1957, he took up his studies again
where he had left them at the  =Schoolofvisual =Arts.
While still a student, Feelings created a comic strip series called
=Tommy =Traveler in the =World of =Negro =History.  He conceived
the comic strip because he felt that black young people did not
know enough about black heroes of the past, who were then seldom
mentioned in   history books. This belief, plus his own
curiosity about black history, created =Tommy, a young black boy
who wanted to learn about black   =Americans of the past.  Someone
told him about a black doctor who had his own private collection, 
=Feelings  recalled.  =Tommy went to the doctor's
house, and the doctor let him read
there. =Tommy read and, each time,
fell asleep dreaming himself into the
story he'd just read. =Tommy was
really me.  A newspaper called =New =York =Age published =Feelings'
cartoon for a year.  He later wrote and   illustrated a comic book
about =Crispus =Attucks, a former slave and hero of
the =Boston =Massacre of =1770, but was unable to sell it until
years later.  After graduating from school, he
lived with his mother and began work as a freelance artist. He took
his sketchbook into the streets of
=Bedford-Stuyvesant and drew the
people, especially children, he saw
there. He worked on the street with
pencils of varying hardness and with
a pen. Soft pencils allowed him to
make dark lines or to shade heavily;
harder pencils made lighter, softer
lines and shadows.
 Children were all out on the
streets. I'd walk over to a group and
say, I want to do a drawing of you.
Sometimes they'd take a stiff,  
selfconscious poses and I wouldn't really
start drawing. Then after about five
minutes they'd forget I was there and
relax. That's what I'd been waiting
for, and I'd start drawing quickly. The
restless ones made me work hard  
because they didn't want to sit still at all.
Sometimes I would do drawings
without their knowing it, from across
a street or on a train or bus. Little by
little, I began to be caught up in what
was in front of me, forgetting where I
was, just responding to what I felt. 
=The famous artist =Pablo =Picasso
once said,  I put all the things I like
into my pictures. The things, so
much the worse for them; they just
have to put up with it.  What  
=Feelings liked was black, black men, black
women, black children, the typical
scenes, moods, and expressions of
black =Americans in his neighborhood.
In drawing black people, he felt that
he was pursuing a goal or ideal,
though he could not then have said
what it was. The children, especially,



not able to return to my former  
occupation, I decided to devote my
energies to art.
 I became involved with stained
glass in a very mundane manner.
I did a lot of work on my house,
and I built a bathroom, which you
might say is an inside sculpture. I
got it all finished and I was not
happy with the window. I said to
myself, It needs a stained glass
there.
 I bought materials and tools
and I began to experiment. For
materials, there's the glass, which
comes in every color you can
imagine and in different degrees
of transparency. There are thin
strips of copper foil that I fold
around the edge of each piece of
glass. There is solder  a mixture of
tin and lead with a low melting
point  that is melted with a tool
called a soldering iron and used
to bind the glass pieces together
by their copper edges. My tools
included a glass cutter, a
straightedge, templates, a file,
and a pair of pliers. 
A glass cutter, despite its name,
does not actually cut glass. It has
a sharp tip that scratches or scores
the glass. If the glass is snapped
gently into two pieces, the break
will tend to occur along the scored
line.
The straightedge is used to
guide the glass cutter in making a
straight cut. To score curved lines,
glass artists first make a model, or



Once we were wayfarers, then seafarers
then airfarers;
We shall be spacefarers soon;
Not voyaging from city to city or from
coast to coast,
But from planet to planet and from moon to moon.

This is no fanciful flight of imagination,
No strange, incredible, utterly different thing;
It will come by obstinate thought and calculation
And the old resolve to spread an expanding wing.

We shall see homes established on distant planets,
Friends departing to take up a post on =Mars;
They will have perils to meet,
but they will meet them,
As the early settlers did on =American shores.

We shall buy tickets later, as now we buy them
For a foreign vacation, reserve our seat or berth,
Then spending a holiday month on a
moon of =Saturn,
Look tenderly back to our little shining =Earth.

And those who decide they will not make
the journey
Will remember a son up there or a favorite niece,
Eagerly awaiting news from the old home-planet,
And will scribble a line to catch the post for space.

The Boy Who Sailed Around the World Alone.

When =Robin =Lee =Graham was ten years old, his parents
gave him a small boat for his birthday, and he sailed for
the first time. At the age of sixteen, with his parents  
consent, he began a round-the-world voyage alone in his  
=24foot sloop that would take him five years. Equipped with
compass, sextant, barometer, and a clock, his boat fitted
with automatic self-steering gear, he navigated  
accurately over =30'000 miles, endured tropical storms and the
pains of loneliness. As you read, think about the  
challenges =Robin faced and how he reacted to them.



 This is called taking the wind,  he said.  And because it is
very important you must try it. 
I obeyed his command, but filled my lungs in one breath.
 More,  the old man said.
I took in another gulp of air.
 More,  the old man said.
I tried again and then began to cough.
 For the first time it is good,  the old man said.  But you
must practice this much so you stretch the lungs. Now we go
down together. 
We both filled our lungs with air and slipped over the side of
the canoe feet first, each of us holding a sink stone. The water
was as warm as milk but clear so that I could see the wrinkled
sand and the black rocks and fish swimming about.
When we reached the bottom the old man put a foot in the
loop of the rope that held his sink stone and I did likewise with
my stone. He placed his hand on my shoulder and took two
steps to a crevice in a rock that was covered with trailing weeds.
Then he took his knife from his belt and thrust it into the  
crevice. Instantly the crevice closed, not slowly but with a snap.
The old man wrenched the knife free and took his foot out of the
loop and motioned for me to do the same and we floated up to
the canoe.
The old man held out the knife.  Note the scratches which
the burro shell leaves,  he said.  With a hand or a foot it is  
different. Once the burro has you he does not let go and thus you
drown. Take care, therefore, where you step and where you place
the hand. 
We dived until night came, and the old man showed me how
to walk carefully on the bottom, so as not to muddy the water,
and how to use the knife to pry loose the oysters that grew in
clumps and how to get the shells open and how to search them
for pearls.
We gathered many baskets that afternoon but found nothing
except a few baroques of little worth. And it was the same the
next day and the next, and then on the fourth day, because the
old man had cut his hand on a shell, I went out on the lagoon
alone.
It was on this day that I found the great =Pearl of =Heaven.

In the morning I got a beast and rode out with the =President's
suite to the =Cemetery in the procession. The procession formed
itself in an orphanly sort of way and moved out with very little
help from anybody, and after a little delay, Mr =Everett took his
place on the stand, and Mr =Stockton made a prayer which thought it
was an oration; and Mr =Everett spoke as he always does, perfectly,
and the =President, in a fine, free way, with more grace than is
his wont, said his half dozen words of consecration, and the music
wailed and we went home through crowded and cheering streets.
And all the particulars are in the daily papers.
Here are the  half dozen words of consecration. 
Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought
forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and
dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that
nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long
endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have
come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place
for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. 
it is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot  
consecrate, we cannot hallow, this ground. The brave men, living
and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above
our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor
long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what
they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated
here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus
far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to
the great task remaining before us, that from these honored
dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they
gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly  
resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this  
nation, under =God, shall have a new birth of freedom; and that
government of the people, by the people. for the people, shall
not perish from the earth.



When you are trying to make an important decision, you stand at
a crossroad: to do something or not to do it, to change or not to
change. You can take either road, but not both, and only you can
decide. History is made up of people at crossroads, people finding
or forming ideas, deciding how to put them to use, seeking new
places in which to begin new ways of life.
In  =Crossroads,  you will read about people facing change and
sometimes turning to the ideas and experiences of the past for  
inspiration. Two women serve as spies for the patriot cause during
the =American =Revoluffon. A nineteenth century wagon driver
battles muddy roads and human interference to hang onto his dream
of going =West. A woman is elected to the =United =States =House of

=Representatives and becomes a nationally-known figure. A man
retraces the long migration across the =Great =Plains of his =Kiowa
Indian ancestors. As you read, think about how people turn to the
past for  guidance. To make a good decision, it is often helpful to
look at people who made similar choices in the past and to learn
what result their choices had. This is the reason that we study
history, so that we can avoid making mistakes and so that we can
draw on the wisdom of past experience. What ideas, people, or
places that are important today will still seem important in the
future? 

It's all about the most important
things there are. If it weren't for
computers,  
=NICCOLO  Annoyed : I know. I know.
Do you think I'm a dope? 
=JENNIE: All right. So the =Bard has to
know about these things. It has to get the information. Then it can
stop talking about kings making lightning when they frown.  She
bends to inspect the workings of =THE =SARD once more.   There. It
os working fine.
=NICCOLO  Nervous again : It had better.
 Suddenly remembering : Hey, you have me so all tangled up
with this stupid =Bard, I forgot all about what I came to see you
about.  Excitement rapidly   mounting  I didn't even tell you my
idea =Nickie, I've got to tell you. It's the best thing you've ever
heard, I'll  bet. I came right to you because I figured you'd come
in with me. 
=NICCOLO  Beginning to catch fire at the other's enthusiasm : Okay.
=JENNIE. What is it?
You know Mr =Daugherty at school ?
=NICCOLO: I know him. I was in his office after school, today.
=NICCOLO: What for?
He wanted to talk to me. He said I was going to be entering
special computing school and he wanted to encourage me and, you
know, things like that. He said the whole world was being run by
computers and by automatic   machinery, and people just being  
computer technicians wasn't enough.  Importantly  He said the world
needed more people who could design advanced computer circuits
and do proper programming. 
=NICCOLO  Hesitantly Oh? 
=JENNIE  Impatiently : Come on,
=Nickie, I've told you about programming. I've told you a  
=hundred times. That's when you set up problems for the real big  
computers to work on. Mr =Daugherty says it gets harder all the
time to find people who can really run the big ones. He says anyone
can keep an eye on the controls and check off answers and put
through routine problems. He says the trick
is to expand research and figure
out ways to ask the right questions,
 and that's hard.
=NICCOLO  Nodding uncertainly    =Uhhuh.
=JENNIE: =All right, then, =Nickie, so he
thinks I'll be a programmer some day and I guess he wants to  
encourage me. Anyway, he showed Me his collection of old  
computers. It's kind of a hobby of his to collect old computers. He
had tiny computers you had to push knobs on. They had a lot of
knobs. And he had a hunk of wood he called a slide rule, with a
little piece of it that went in and out. And some wires with balls
on them. That was an abacus or something. I   forget. He even had
a hunk of paper with a kind of thing he called a multiplication
table on it.


The =Judge relocked the drawer,
replaced the key in his pocket,
and handed =John a dollar bill.
He resumed his seat and told
=John to sit down for a minute.
=John did so, on the edge of the
nearest chair.
 How are you making out,?  asked the =Judge?
 All right, I guess,  said =John.
 I wouldn't have bothered you for this, only we had to have flour. 
 That's all right,  said the =Judge slowly.  I should have  
remembered it. I didn't think of it because your father owed me
money anyway.  I didn't know that,  said =John.
He couldn't think of anything to say. He only looked at the =Judge
and wondered how his father had had the nerve to borrow
money from a man like him. The =Judge made an impressive
figure before his fire. He was a massive man with a red face,
strong white hair, and   uncompromising light blue eyes. He
was staring at =John, too, rather curiously.
He nodded, after a while, and said,  He owed me =forty dollars. 
That was what =John had wanted to know, but he was shocked
at the amount of it. All he could think of to say was,  I didn't
know that sir.  No,  said the =Judge,  probably
not. He wAs a kind of cousin of my wife's, but we neither of us
said much about it. And after Mrs =Doane died he didn't come
around much.  His brows drew bushily together and he stared
into the fire.  How old are you,  son?  he asked.
=John replied that he was   sixteen.
The =Judge went on to ask about the family, the age of each
child, and what =Charley =Haskell had got planted that spring. John
answered him everything, and as he did he felt a little more
confidence. It seemed odd that anyone living in the =High =Falls
settlement could know so little about anyone else. Why, he
knew a lot more about the =Judge than the =Judge did about him. He
told how high the corn stood. He said,  It stands as high as any
I've see around here, excepting yours, =Judge. And now I've
started looking out for it, maybe it will catch up. 


The =Judge said,  Hoeing is the best garden fertilizer in the
world. And sweat is the next best thing to money.  Yes, sir,  said
=John. It made him feel proud that he had hoed so much of his corn
that day.   Tomorrow he'd really get after the piece.
 You can't live on potatoes and corn though,  said the =Judge.
 What are you going to do? 
aside and exploded.  It's these =gol-danged automobiles, smelly,
noisy, dirty things, scaring horses
right off the road      ruin a   person's business . Well, son,
speak up. What is it you want?   I want a collar for =Rascal,  I
said, fighting the stinging moisture in my eyes,  and a braided
leash to match.    And they're making me build a cage to lock him
up.   =Gol-danged buzzards,  the harness-maker said.  Cage for a  
little raccoon like that? Going after boys and raccoons now, are
they? You want his name engraved on a silver plate on the collar? 
 I haven't got much money,  I said hesitantly.  But that would be
wonderful.    His name is =Rascal. 
 Come here, =Rascal, and let me measure your neck,  =Garth  
=Shadwick said, leaning over to pat my complacent pet.
 You don't need to measure him, Mr =Shadwick. Here's a string
that's just the right length for the collar, with knots where the
holes and the buckle should be, and   allowing a little for when he
gets  bigger. 
 The harness-maker came as near to smiling as I had ever seen him.
With swift precision he went to work on a strong, light collar of 
pliable, golden-brown calfskin, about half an inch wide. He used
his smallest awl to make the holes and

 &&000 MACMILLAN (1983)  8TH GRADE READER           MAC9838T.ASC
DREAMS AND DECISIONS
SOURCE: KUTZTOWN UNIVERSITY (PA.)
XEROC BY LW, SCAN EDIT BY DPH March 5, 1993

&&111



Two old men sat on a park bench
one morning in the sunshine of
=Tampa, =Florida, one trying doggedly
to read a book he was plainly  
enjoying. The other, =Harold =K =Bullard,
told him the story of his life in the
full, round, head tones of a public
address system. At their feet lay  
=Bullard's =Labrador retriever, who further
tormented the aged listener by  
probing his ankles with a large, wet nose.
=Bullard, who had been, before he
retired, successful in many fields,
enjoyed reviewing his important
past. But he faced the problem that
complicates the lives of cannibals, 
namely: that a single victim cannot
be used over and over. Anyone who
had passed the time of day with
him and his dog refused to share a
bench with them again.
So =Bullard and his dog set out
through the park each day in quest
of new faces. They had had good
luck this morning, for they had
found this stranger right away,
clearly a new arrival in =Florida, still
buttoned up tight in heavy serge,
stiff collar and necktie, and with
nothing better to do than read.
 Yes,  said =Bullard, rounding out
the first hour of his lecture, ~made
and lost five fortunes in my time. 
 =So you said,  said the stranger,
whose name =Bullard held neglected



stuff in the little log cabin and
moved over the range together to
the one =Seth had selected for
=John. There they laid up a small
cabin just like =Seth's, and built a
chimney. They had trouble  
finding clay to seal the cracks, for by
then the frost was hard and snow
coming regularly each afternoon.
Then =Seth took =John with him
while he laid out his own lines,
and, after two days, went with
=John, showing him what to start
on. After that =Seth spent all his
spare time making =John  
snowshoes. He finished them just in
time for the first heavy snow.

=John learned a great deal from
=Seth that fall. He had always
liked =Seth, but he had never
suspected his generosity and
good humor. Even when the
snow got heavy, =Seth paid him a
weekly visit and asked him back
to his cabin in return.
He learned how to make pens
for beaver under water and ice,
and sink fresh twigs, and when
the younger beaver swam in, to
drop the closing pole and let
them drown. He never got as good
as =Seth had, still-hunting fisher.
But =Seth said, either you could
do that or you could not; there
was no shame in not being able.
But =John did well. Early in
=March his bale of furs had
mounted up so well that he had



all her life perhaps. There was no way out of it. Her fear was
not the fear she had suffered earlier, but the calm, helpless fear
of the irrevocably condemned.
She heard =Dick's voice say,  Close your throttle when you're
over the town.  She closed it. Then, before she could check the,
airspeed, the meatworks were upon her and she put the stick
over and the earth rushed up and again the turn seemed not so
bad when she was losing height, and she was thinking  
exultantly,  I can do it,  I really believe  I can do it, when she
heard
=Dick's voice say,  Lower flaps now and prepare to turn over river.
The flaps went down, and then the river turn was on her before
she had time to check the indicator, and she turned again and
ran the short north leg and turned again and the runway was
before her, and she said aloud to herself,   I'm saved,  I'm saved,
and then she heard a voice say,  No  and immediately =Dick's
voice, louder, saying,  Throttle  and she was bewildered by it
because surely they must be wrong, they must be wrong, and
then she pushed the throttle in and the nose lifted as the motor
roared into full life, but still she seemed to be skimming the
ground, and she lifted the nose a little more, and remembered the
flaps but forgot to steady the lever as they came up, and the
plane sank and she pulled the nose high so that it blotted out
her horizon, and she forced it down and then brought it up
again, and the plane was bucketing over the hangars and then
over the town and beyond and she was possessed by a terrible
sorrow and dread, because the ground had been so close, so close,
and they had driven her up and away from it.



Well, he thought, kind of scared,
of going down to the river and
throwing the box in, but. when he
thought of doing it. he knew he
couldn't. Then he thought of his
farm near =Lexington and the
peaceful days. Once the revolution
was out of the box there'd be an
end to that.  But then he  
remembered what =Revere had said when
he was talking with the woman about the silver,
the thing about building a new country and building it clean and
plain.



than fairy tales, made up by  
superstitious people. Yet, there now are
certain experts who believe that at
least one real monster always has
lived in the ocean's depths, and that
before long such a creature may  
finally be captured and brought ashore.
In early times, one of the  
best known of all sea monsters was the  
siren. It was said that the upper half of
this deadly creature was a lovely
woman, while the lower half was a
large, scaly fish.
Sirens were supposed to live in the
middle of the sea, on an island  
encircled by rocks. They possessed voices
of magical beauty, and whenever a
ship approached, they began to sing.
In their song, they urged the captain
and his crew to come over to their  
island and stay for a while. According
to legend, no man who heard the
song of the sirens could resist its call.
And so, many a bewitched sailor had
steered his ship onto the rocks, where
the crew had drowned in the midst of
the turbulent waves.



Astronaut training includes  
classroom study in astronomy, earth  
science, computer theory, space  
communications, and other subjects.
Mission specialists do not pilot the
=Space =Shuttle, but they have to learn
to fly ordinary aircraft and  
highperformance jets. Under water and
in airplanes that dive and turn to
produce moments of weightlessness,
they practice moving and working
without gravity. At sea and on land,
the astronauts learn survival skills
that can keep them alive during and
after a faulty landing. They also
study the equipment they will use
and the tasks they will perform in
space.
Though the =American astronauts
were not the first women to prepare
for space flight  the first woman in
space was =Russian cosmonaut  
=Valentina =Tereshkova , their selection  
received much attention in the =United
=States. The candidates took their
new roles in stride. Says =Shannon
=Lucid, a former research associate,
The woman side of it isn't really
that important. The important thing
is that  I get to go! And  I've never
done anything thinking, Well,  I'm a
woman doing this. I am just a  
person doing whatever it is that  I'm  
doing, and  I think that's the important
thing, that  I get to go! 
How did the other  
astronauts-to-be feel about their future careers?


template, of the curve, then use
this template to guide the glass
cutter.
Broken glass has razor-sharp
edges. Before the pieces of glass
can be handled safely, the edges
must be smoothed with a file. If
the glass does not break quite  
correctly, the glass artist uses pliers to
snap away the rough sections.
 Stained-glass art begins with a
sketch,  says =Sidney. Much of the
success depends upon this sketch.
Look at the photograph of  
=Sidney =Miller's =Penguins. Notice how
the picture is made up of pieces of
colored glass divided by dark
lines of copper foil. When =Sidney
planned the design on paper, he
had to draw it in this  
colors and lines style, to stylize it, rather than
make a more realistic drawing,
unbroken by lines.
On his first projects, he followed
techniques he had learned from
books and from other people  
working with stained glass. But as he
worked, he began to develop
his own methods. For example,
most stained-glass artists, once
they have finished their design on
paper, cut out all the glass they
need at one time. Assernbling a
stained-glass design is like putting
together a puzzle.



You may wonder why we don't simply avoid the trouble in the first
place by shielding the =Youngling planets, as we shield our own, so

that they can't be found by a science less advanced than ours.
Well, it's a nice idea, but it just wouldn't be practical. In the
first place it would be
awfully expensive. You can't shield only the inhabited planets,
you've got to shield all the planets in their solar systems,
because otherwise any astronomer who took the trouble to calculate
planetary orbits would realize that something peculiar was going
on. It's one thing to do this for the =Federation solar systems,
but something else again to do it for every =Youngling system
that's been charted! And even if we could, it wouldn't solve
anything; after all, we've explored  comparatively few of the
=millions of =Youngling systems that exist. More than this, though,
if we kept on =Youngling planets the men and equipment that would
be needed to shield them, there would  be a very substantial risk
of disdosure to the people of those planets. And
that would be a risk we couldn't take, because the chances of their
being harmed by it would be much greater than the chances of their
being picked for invasion. The =Service has learned when to leave
well enough alone.
It's a frustrating problem. It's heartbreaking, even, when you
really  think about it. We have so much power, yet we can
accomplish so little! Our primary mission is to observe and to
leam. The sad fact is that =Youngling peoples are often wiped out,
either through colonization of their planet or through some other
disaster that we haven't any idea of how to prevent    and we may
not even know about it until it's too late. Once in a while,
though, it happens that we are in the right place at the right time
to come to the rescue. In the case of =Andrecia, and  I knew that
=Andrecia must be such a case, for   mysterious unscheduled stops
aren't made otherwise, the rescuers were to be =Father, =Evrek, and
a woman named =llura whom  I knew only slightly. =Father had been
on leave status, of course, and he had been   looking forward to
the family reunion, too, not having been back to the
world of his birth since before he married =Mother. But he was the
only unassigned agent on board qualified for such a command; that's
the way it goes in the =Service. He had chosen his assistants from
among the members of the survey teams aboard. Actually, he had
asked for volunteers; this in itself should have told me that he
meant what he said about the expected dangers. But all  I could
think of was finding a way to be included. It didn't occur to me
that to try to get around a 

&&000 RIVERSIDE PUBL. CO.  (1986)  8TH GRADE      RIV9868T.ASC
Level 15  ON EXHIBIT by Leo Fay et al
Source: SUNY Cortland xerox, scan, edit by DPH February 3, 1993

&&111


neutral background and moved
the camera to it. So it appeared
to get bigger and bigger and
bigger. We had plotted out what
course the ball was supposed to
take through the sky and where
it was to land. That was all  
preplanned. Then we had the  
cameraman shoot the =Munchkinland
set under our direction with
tied-down cameras so that there
was no movement to the camera
at all. Now we had two pieces of
film: the original set and the
shot of the silver ball.  Through
trick photography, the films
were combined into one, giving
the effect of the witch traveling
in the ball.
 We worked and worked very
hard,  says =Gillespie.  Today
they say, If they don't pay me,
 I'm not going to stay three  
minutes overtime. 
Those early days of film  
making are gone. Years after  
working on =The =Wizard of =Oz,  
=Gillespie said to =MGM executives,   



hurley stick and fell sprawling. When he tried to get up he
groaned and fell back again; watching from a distance,  I
saw when the doctor was fetched and told him that his leg
was broken. How  I laughed, or rather, tried to laugh;  I
was feeling too sad, really, because of Mrs =Polaner, and
could only find a bitter, angry pleasure at his punishment.
The doctor put his leg in a great white plaster cast, all the
way down to the ankle, and it was some satisfaction to see
his impatience and rage as he hopped clumsily about,
using his hurley stick as a crutch.
I would have liked to go up to him and say,   I did that
to you,  I did it!  but  I did not quite have the courage. He
was so big and active, even now, in spite of his broken leg;
he still looked dangerous. Besides, he would not have  
believed me.
After a day or two, though, a change came over him. He
began to complain that the plaster cast itched abominably
on his leg.  That is because it catches on the hairs of your
skin,  the doctor said.  Don't make such a fuss about it, 
everybody has to bear that with a cast. You'll just have to
put up with it. 
Nevertheless the boy,  I never did learn his name
cursed and screamed; he said the torture of the plaster was
worse than fire burning, worse than having his skin
stripped off, he could not stand the pain, it was not to be
endured.
 =Aha,   I thought,  now the box is really beginning to
work; now you begin to understand what you did to Mrs
=Polaner in your stupid carelessness.  And  I gloated as he
hobbled about, frantically rubbing the outside of the  
plaster, as if that would relieve the itching inside.
After another day or two he was not to be seen on deck
but lay in the men's cabin, and sometimes we could hear
him shrieking, a terrible sound it was, hardly human,
more like an animal being killed. Then  I felt sorry for
what  I had done and took the paper out of the box and
threw it in the sea.




told her firmly, one more
bite and we're both in trouble.
With a sigh, she slid off the stool
and took her plate to the sink.
On the way she stopped by her
brother =Scott, who had  
concentrated all through breakfast on
the history text propped in front
of him.
With a corner of her napkin,
she maneuvered the other strip
of bacon onto his plate.  
 Untouched by human hands,  she
assured him.
She wasn't sure he even
heard until he fumbled for the
bacon and popped it into his
mouth.
=Tracy went to brush her
teeth and get her books. Her
mother was still talking to her
father when she took her lunch
sack out of the refrigerator. At
her soft good-by, her mother
wiggled her fingers, but she
wasn't paying attention to  
anything but the voice on the phone.
=Scott didn't look up from his
book.
Outside =Tracy shivered for a
moment in the crisp air. Well, it
was too late now to change to
something else, and her blue
sweater didn't match the blue in
this dress. She walked quickly
down the block, watching a man
and a small plump boy jog down



You don't have to be told that there is motion in
sports, sometimes a lot of it. Think of the runner  
rounding the bases after hitting a home run. Think of the
bobsled whizzing down the run. Think of basketball  
players leaping and running. Even chess involves the motion
of moving a piece from one square to another on the
board.
Motion is the passing of a body from one place to
another in a certain amount of time, whether that body is
living or nonliving. Motion can be measured by changes of
position in a given period. To measure it, you must know
where the body started, where it ended, and how much
time it took.

=Newton's Laws of Motion.

The person who taught us most about motion was  =Isaac
=Newton. This =English mathematician lived from =1642 to
=1727. He explored the physics of motion and formulated
laws that tell us how motion works.
One of =Newton's laws of motion tells us that every body
at rest tends to remain at rest. And every body which is in
motion tends to remain in constant motion in a straight
line unless acted upon by an outside force.
If this were not true, you would have trouble at the
bowling alley. The pins might not stand up long enough to
be hit by the ball, they would not stay at rest. And you
might never be able to bowl a straight ball to pick up a
spare, the ball's motion might not continue in a straight
line.



 How can that be?   I asked. I knew what a falling star
was, but  I had never heard of showers of them at that
time, and  I don't think my father had either. Yet with a
woodsman's observations, he knew that the =Orionids,
which were the ones we were seeing now, always came in
mid-October, and that the =Deminids would come in  
=December, and that in =April you could count on the =Lyrids. He
knew neither their names nor their origins, but had come
to accept and expect them at their appointed times.
 Maybe,  he promised,   I'll show you something even
prettier in the morning, if you don't mind getting up
early. 
 What, =Father?   I asked. But instead of giving in, he
put his finger beside his nose and smiled.
The next morning a touch awoke me. The fire was dim,
burned down to glowing coals, and dawn was only a  
promise in the eastern sky.
 What? 



 I was asked many times myself. No,  I would say,  I
didn't want to grow up to be =President. My mother was
present during one of these interrogations. An elderly
uncle, having posed the usual question and exposed my
lack of interest in the =Presidency, asked,  Well, what do
you want to be when you grow up? 
 I loved to pick through trash piles and collect empty
bottles, tin cans with pretty labels, and discarded  
magazines. The most desirable job on earth sprang instantly to
mind.  I want to be a garbage man,   I said.
My uncle smiled, but my mother had seen the first
distressing evidence of a bump budding on a log.  Have a
little gumption, =Russell,  she said. Her calling me =Russell
was a signal of unhappiness. When she approved of me  I
was always  =Buddy.                   
When  I turned eight years old she decided that the job
of starting me on the road toward making something of
myself could no longer be safely delayed.  =Buddy,  she said
one day,   I want you to come home right after school this
afternoon. Somebody's coming and  I want you to meet
him. 
When  I burst in that afternoon she was in conference in
the parlor with an executive of the =Curtis =Publishing  
=Company. She introduced me. He bent low from the waist and
shook my hand. Was it true as my mother had told him, he
asked, that  I longed for the opportunity to conquer the
world of business?
My mother replied that  I was blessed with a rare  
determination to make something of myself.
 That's right,   I whispered.
 But have you got the grit, the character, the  
neversay-quit spirit it takes to succeed in business? 
My mother said  I certainly did.
 That's right,   I said.
He eyed me silently for a long pause, as though  
weighing whether  I could be trusted to keep his confidence, then
spoke man-to-man. Before taking a crucial step, he said, he



system. So, before they start to drink, they splash water with
their agile trunks over their giant earlobes. The ears are
crisscrossed by blood vessels. As the blood vessels cool off, so
does the body. The body heat thus
reduced, the elephants begin to
drink earnestly. Their thirst
quenched, they lie down in the
pool to cool and clean their  
entire bodies. The young elephants
splash and play and shake their
tiny trunks merrily, never  
leaving the proximity of mother and
nanny. What always amazes me
is how the young often stays
under the belly of its mother so
as to be shaded from the hot sun,
and neither the mother nor the
nanny ever steps on a baby, or
even bumps it, as though they
have eyes or sonar or radar in
every part of their magnificent
bodies.
Actually, the elephants most
important sensory organ is the
trunk, with its =millions of  
olfactory receptors. Elephants can, in
a manner of speaking, read with
their noses. When an elephant
rejoins the herd, the others can
tell by the scent molecules on its
body where that elephant has
been, what kind of trees it has
passed, whether it was near
water and whether it has met



tiny  because after all, how big could a bottle be?  It was
called =Tinyland, =Tinyland =City. I remember seeing a huge
bright red pony floating between the buildings and the
clear blue sky. Then it seemed that after that  I lived in
=Tinyland.
I became sort of one of the leaders. However, someone
called =Zelda was right there next to me, fighting to outdo
all of us and in particular me. She was from the  
underground part of the city where the citizens did not know
how to act right. Her worst habit was trying to steal my
boyfriends. I had a lot of them in that place, and  I had no
intention of sharing them with anyone. =Zelda and  I got into
a fight the second day after  I arrived, because  I was with
=Garred and she came and told me  I had to go. =Garred said
he used to see her a long time ago, but that was long
past, would she please leave and not make a nuisance of
herself? We called a cab and told the driver to take her
anywhere as long as it was far away from there.
By that time, in the real world, the doctor had finished.
 She's very good,  the doctor said.  Some of our patients we
have to hold down. 
 Oh, yes, she takes vitamin injections and blood tests
very well,  =Mother said. I gave them a half smile.
We waited for a while.
Finally the doctor came back.  Mrs =Johnson? She's
coming along fine. Her tests are very good. She won't need
anything else but these iron pills. I think what has  
happened is that she has outgrown the murmur. 
 Does that mean  I don't have to come here anymore?   I
said.
 Well, one more visit in six months and after that, no
more. 
=Hallelujah!

The next day before lunch, our teacher, =Miss =Robinson,
said,  Will the following students please remain for a few
minutes after the rest of the class leaves: =Lorraine =Brown,



particular interest that summer
was in the penguin's ability to
handle its enemies, especially
the leopard seal. Other seals eat
only fish and krill, but the  
leopards attack penguins.
Early in the season, when the
penguins are swimming toward
the rookery, a group of leopard
seals will lurk along the waters.
As the penguins come close, 
leaping like dolphins out of the
water, then diving under the
surface, the seals sink  
underwater like submarines and go
after the unsuspecting birds.
This is a dangerous time for the
penguins. Some researchers  
believe that the seals catch and eat
about five percent of the whole
breeding population.
Penguin parents are very
protective. Males and females
take turns sitting on the eggs for
about five weeks, until they
hatch. While one partner goes
out to sea in search of food, the
other sits on the eggs.
When the chicks hatch in
early =December, the parents
take turns feeding them and
guarding them from birds called
skuas. Sometimes a nest will be
attacked by a pair of skuas, one
trying to distract the parent
penguin while the other grabs
the unguarded chick. 


 I've lived in the =Forty =Mile country of =Alaska for a longtime,
but even now, every so often when  I'm not
rock-hunting or looking for fossils,  I get lost. Sometimes  I'll
have to wander around for a while before  I get my bearings.
That's what happened to me when  I first started to think
about telling this story. I wasn't sure which direction to
take, then  I realized that the only way to tell it was the way
 I might have told it when  I first came to =Alaska.
That was back in =1927, when  I was a young lady of
nineteen. From the time I'd been a girl  I'd been thrilled with
the idea of living on a frontier, so when  I was offered the job
of teaching school in a gold mining settlement called
=Chicken  I accepted right away.
The first time  I heard the name =Chicken  I laughed. I
didn't believe there could really be such a place. Sure
enough, though, when  I looked at a map of =Alaska there it
was  and still is , right up near the =Yukon =Territory.
All that was =forty-eight years ago, yet  I can still
remember my excitement on the day  I set off for =Chicken by
pack train. For me it was the final leg of a long journey,
and the pack train left from a village called =Eagle .
&&000 SCRIBNER  (Macmillan)  (1987)  8TH GRADE   SCR9878T.ASC
TOUGH THE SKY  by Jack Cassidy et al
Scribner Reading Series Level 16 
Source: SUNY Cortland xerox, scan, edit by DPH 12-26-92

&&111 

Something there is that doesn't love a wall
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made.
But at spring mending-time we find them there
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;

And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
Stay where you are until our backs are turned! 
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:

He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says,  =Good fences make good neighbors. 
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out
And to whom I was like to give offense.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.  I could say  =Elves  to him
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there,
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again,  Good fences make good neighbors. 


We came to the only town with an inn. When I climbed down
from the cart, he began to search his pockets, empty them, turn
them inside out, nervous, anxious, holding me with his eyes:  What
shall I give you? What can it be? I want to give you something. 
He looked all around, hopefully, searched the sky, the fields. He
poked again through his poor clothes, through his pants stiff with
mud, through the much used coat molded to his body, to find
some gift. He looked above with a glance that took in the whole
universe. The world remained remote, far away, indifferent. And
suddenly the wrinkles of his swarthy face, all the furrows etched
from sun to sun, smiled at me. All the cock crows of the world
awakened lights on his brow. He bashfully took a little piece of
paper out of I don't know where, and seating himself again on his
cart and supporting his calloused hand on his knee, told me:

Now I know. I'll give you the gift of my name. 



ACT TWO
SCENE =1. Police station at night
 It's a bare receiving room with a police captain at a desk. A
long bench on one side of the room is occupied by sad  
miscreants awaiting disposition. There is a line of three or four
men standing in front of the desk with several policemen in
evidence. One holds on to =Corrigan, who has a bruise over his
eye and whose coat is quite disheveled. The police captain
looks up at him from a list. 

CAPTAIN: NOW, what's this one done?  He peers up over his
glasses and eyes =Corrigan up and down  =Fancy =Dan with
too much money in his pockets, =huh?
=CORRIGAN: While you are sitting here, you're going to lose a
President! The captain looks inquiringly toward the policeman 
POLICEMAN: That's what he's been yelling all the way over to
the station. And that's what the doorman at =Ford's =Theater
popped him on the head for.  He nods toward =Corrigan 
Tried to pound his way right through the stage door. Yelling
some kind of crazy things about =President =Lincoln going to
get shot.
=CORRIGAN: President =Lincoln will be shot! Tonight. In the
theater. A man named =Booth.



=Long's =Peak,  the =American  
=Matterhorn,  as some call it, was ascended five
years ago for the first time. I thought I
should like to attempt it, but up to
Monday, when =Evans left for =Denver,
cold water was thrown upon the  
project. It was too late in the season, the
winds were likely to be strong, etc.; but
just before leaving, =Evans said that the
weather was looking more settled, and
if I did not get farther than the timber
line it would be worth going.
Soon after he left,  =Mountain =Jim 
came in, and he would go up as guide,
and the two youths who rode here with
me from =Longmount and I caught at
the proposal. Mrs =Edwards at once
baked bread for three days, steaks were
cut from the steer which hangs up  
conveniently, and tea, sugar, and butter
were benevolently added. Behind my
saddle I carried three pairs of camping
blankets and a quilt, which reached to
my shoulders =My own boots were so
much worn that it was painful to walk,
even about the park, in them, so =Evans
had lent me a pair of his hunting boots,
which hung to the horn of my saddle.
The horses of the two young men were
equally loaded, for we had to prepare
for many degrees of frost.
=Jim was a shocking figure. He had
on an old pair of high boots, and a
baggy pair of old trousers made of deer



I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white
sail's shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the
sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the sea again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
=To'the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's
like a whetted knife;
=And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow rover,
=And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trips over.




=Rollo, and stared .silently at the robot as though seeing him for
the first time.
=Rollo got to his feet.
The =Maestro let his fingers rest on the keys, strangely  
foreign now.
 Music!  he breathed.  I may have heard it that way in my
soul. I know =Beethoven did! 
He looked up at tt-e robot, a growing excitement in his
face.
=Rollo,  he said, his voice straining to remain calm.  You
and I have some work to do tomorrow on your memory banks. 
Sleep did not come again that night.
He strode briskly into the studio the next morning.  =Rollo
was vacuuming the carpet. The =Maestro preferred carpets to the
new dust-free plastics, which felt somehow profane to his feet.
The =Maestro's house was, in fact, an oasis of anachronism.s
in a desert of contemporary antiseptic efficiency.
 Well, are you ready for work, =Rollo?  he asked.  We have
a lot to do, you and I. I have such plans for you, =Rollo great
plans! 
=Rollo, for once, did not reply.
 I have asked them all to come here this afternoon,  the
=Maestro went on.  Conductors, concert pianists, composers, my
manager. All the giants of music, =Rollo. Wait until they hear you
play. 
=Rollo switched off the vacuum and stood quietly.
 You'll play for them right here this afternoon.  =The  
=Maestro's voice was high-pitched, breathle.ss.  The =Appassionata
again, I think. Yes, that's it. I must see their faces!
 Then we'll arrange a recital to introduce you to the public
and the critics and then a major concerto with one of the big
orchestras. We'll have it telecast around the world, =Rollo. It can
be arranged.
 Think of it, =Rollo, just think of it! The greatest piano
virtuoso of all time .   a robot! It's completely fantastic and



Today when girls play =LittleLeague ball and women drive in the
=Indianapolis =500, it's hard to believe
that at one time being a girl meant
that you had little chance to  
participate in athletics. But when =Babe  
=Didrikson was growing up, many  
people even believed that it was
unhealthy for girls to develop athletic
skills. Fortunately, =Babe was happily
unaware of what she should or
shouldn't do and thoroughly enjoyed
doing what she could. She worked
out on the backyard gym set her
father had rigged for his children out
of a broomstick and his wife's  
discarded flatirons. She raced her sister
=Lillie down the block, hurdling the
hedges that divided every yard from
its neighbor, while =Lillie ran the flat
course of the sidewalk. Though she
was two years younger than =Lillie,
=Babe always won those matches. She
was physically gifted and she was
fiercely competitive, traits that
weren't admired in girl children.
Born in =Port =Arthur, a small
=Texas town, on =June =16, =1911,
=Mildred =Didriksen was the sixth of
seven children of =Ole and =Hannah
=Didriksen, both =Norwegian  
immigrants. =As a girl in =Norway, her
mother had been an accomplished
skater and skier. Her father, a ship's
carpenter, had settled his family in
=Texas several years before =Mildred's
birth.
When =Mildred was just four years
old, a violent hurricane destroyed the
=Didriksen home in =Port =Arthur. And
the family moved to nearby  
=Beaumont. There in the =South =End of that
raw =Texas town, the young  
=Didriksens grew up in an environment that
was to have a profound effect on
=Mildred's attitudes and abilities. The
=South =End was a tough  
neighborhood where youngsters learned to
compete early. To survive, to  
succeed, one learned to be aggressive, to
be competitive. =Mildred =Didriksen
learned well.
The family was poor, but so was
everyone else they knew, and young
=Mildred never thought of herself as
 deprived.  Her beloved =Mama and
=Poppa provided for all her needs, and
she earned extra spending money
with part-time jobs such as mowing
lawns and sewing gunny sacks for a
penny a sack. Though never an apt
student, she stood out in every sport
she turned to. As a second grader she
became the marbles champion of
=Magnolia =Elementary =School, besting
a sixth grade boy in the final round.


Never content to compete against
girls, who seemed to her to care little
about proving themselves, she played
with the boys. And it was the boys

ing it after studying for less than two
minutes. His secret: as a devoted
cross-country runner, he often relates
groups of figures to various running
times already fixed in his memory. To
=Donatelli, the last three digits above
represent nine minutes and  
twentyeight seconds, which he associates
with a good time for a two-mile run.
By stringing together racing times, or
even the dates of famous races, he
finds he can remember long series of
unrelated digits.
For those who want to improve
their memory in other ways, here are
a few techniques that experts  
recommend:
Use mnemonics, special cues that
work by adding meaning and context
to hard-to-remember information.
One simple example: to remember
how to spell the word  arithmetic, 
think of the first letters of the words
in the sentence  =A rat in the house
may eat the ice cream.  =Probably the
most popular mnemonic helps to  
recall the number of days in a month:
 =Thirty days hath =September, =April,
=June, and =November.    
=Create mnemonics that use  
imaginative and concrete visual images.
Successful party-goers know that the
best way to remember the names of
people they meet is to incorporate
them into simple mental pictures that
focus on some outstanding feature of
the person in question, such as long
sideburns or green eyes. To  
remember the name of a man named =Pincus,
for example, imagine him with a  
pincushion instead of a nose.  Whether
the image is absurd or normal is  
unimportant,  says =Chase.  The fact
that it is somehow related to the
name makes it work. 
Break hard-to-remember  
information down into more easily stored
chunks. That is what =Donatelli was
doing by separating a string of  
=seventy-three digits into a series of  
racing times.
Add words or numbers to otherwise
meaningless information to give it
some sort of context. To remember
the license plate =350KML, for  
example, think of a herd of =350 camels.
To remember a series of unrelated
facts or names, weave them into a
story. The more unusual the plot, the
easier it will be to remember. To  
remember to make trips to the  
hardware store, dry cleaner, and nursery,
imagine a detective who discovers the
murder weapon, a hammer  
hardware store , underneath a pile of
clothes  the cleaners  hidden in a
compost heap  the nursery . This
trick is especially effective when  
several different lists of words have to
be memorized.


in front of her nose =She groped sadly along past trees and tarns
and wild animals lairs and at last, quite lost and half-frozen from
the cold, she crawled into a little cave and cried herself to
sleep.
When she woke up in the middle of the night  or so she imagined,
for one could no longer tell night from day , she recalled, between
sobs, that there was some sort of poem she was supposed to say
when she felt very depressed, but try as she might she could not
recall what it was.  Something stupid,  she thought.  l remember
it failed to rhyme.  Then she said,  Well, stiff upper lip, l
always say .
To her great surprise a voice said,  That's a very brave thing
to say. It's very moving 
 Who are you?  said =Chimorra  I'm working for the =Lady of
the =North =Star  =But the voice said nothing, apparently no more
impressed than the boardinghouse lady had been, which shows
you exactly how terrible things were, so =Chimorra said more  
timidly,  =Who are you? 
No one,  said the voice. It came closer now, but she was not
alarmed, for the voice seemed kindly.  That is to say, I'm no one
anymore. l used to be a prince, and l came out here hunting, but
now in all this darkness I've lost my dogs and horses and things,


not really very hungry at the moment, only curious; otherwise
he would have grabbed first and whispered afterwards.
I am Mr =Bilbo =Baggins. l have lost the dwarves and I
have lost the wizard, and I don't know where I am; and I don't
want to know, if only I can get away. 
What's he got in his handses?  said =Gollum, looking at
the sword, which he did not quite like.
 A sword, a blade which came out of =Gondolin! 
=Sssss  said =Golum, and he became quite polite.  Perhaps you sit
here and chat with it a bit, my precious. It like
riddles, praps it does, does, it?  He was anxious to appear
friendly, at any rate for the moment, and until he found out
more about the sword and the hobbit, whether he was quite
alone really, whether he was good to eat, and whether =Gollum
was really hungry. Riddles were all he could think of. Asking
them, and sometimes guessing them, had been the only game
he had ever played with other funny creatures sitting in their
holes in the long, long ago, before he lost all his friends and
was driven away, alone, and crept down, down, into the dark
under the mountains.
 Very well,  said =Bilbo, who was anxious to agree, until
he found out more about the creature, whether he was quite
alone, whether he was fierce or hungry, and whether he was a
friend of the goblins.
 You ask first,  he said, because he had not had time to
think of a riddle.
So =Gollum hissed:

What has roots as nobody sees,
Is taller than trees,
Up, up it goes,
And yet never grows?

 Easy!  said =Bilbo.  Mountain, I suppose. 
Does it guess easy? It must have a competition with us,
my precious! If precious asks, and it doesn't answer, we eats
&&000  SCOTT, FORESMAN  (1981)  8TH GRADE          SF19818T.ASC
LEVEL 13  BATTER UP!  by Ira E. Aaron et al
Source: Hobart WS  xerox scan edit by DPH   February 12, 1993

&&111 


soon as we lowered the carcass they all rushed at the meat and
spent the night gorging. By morning there was nothing left but a
few bones; this meant that we must again drive outside the
=Serengeti and go hunting for them.
When we retumed to the cubs feeding place with our  kill, 
we found =Jespah and =Gopa doing acrobatics along the branches of
the acacia tree above their dinner and =Little =Elsa hiding nearby.
Suddenly =Gopa listened in her direction, and began to scramble
down. When he had nearly reached the ground he jumped and fell
heavily; then he got to his feet, looking rather foolish, and
trotted
over to his sister. =Jespah remained on his branch till I showed
him
the pie dish, then he, too, came down and almost toppled over in
his eagerness to get at the cod-liver oil.
When it was quite dark =Little =Elsa came to the meat, but she
seemed terribly nervous so I tried to reassure her by calling her
name. Later we did our best to scare off the wild lions and
hyenas, but in spite of this the cubs left and did not return.
During the next three nights the cubs failed to turn up, but
hungry predators were very active. A leopard climbed the acacia
tree in an attempt to get at the meat; a bold hyena also tried his
luck, and several lions came to investigate the  kill.  In
particular,
the dark-maned lion and his pride remained close and were
plainly prepared to prevent the cubs from taking over their
territory.
This made us realize that we must establish a new feeding
place for the cubs, but first we had to find them. Our knowledge
of the territorial habits of lions was based on what happened in
the =NFD  Northern =Frontier =District . In every case the lions of
the =NFD had been conservative in their habits and territorial
claims. But here, with such a quantity of lions and such a wealth
of game, territorial rights were difficult to assess.
We were told that during the season of the migration many
lions simply followed the column of moving animals, since they
found it easier to kill stragglers than to hunt in the usual way.
All we could hope to do was to discover where the more conservative
prides had established their rights and remove our cubs to another
area. We spent the next days scouring the country, but the long
grass and dry ground made spooring difficult. Besides this, there
were so many lions in the valley that it was impossible to identify
the cubs pug marks.



There was once a dragon who kept a museum and did quite
well from it. He had become  at some point during the several
=thousand years of his life  rather bored with just eating people,
and
the museum made a nice change and a new interest. He charged
tenpence entry fee, and instead of requests to the public not to
climb over the guard ropes and touch the exhibits, there were
simply
signs saying,  If you do not behave yourself properly the dragon
will eat you. 
You'd think such signs might have stopped people from being
very keen to visit the museum. Not a bit of it; there was a kind of
daredevil fascination about going there. People simply flocked.
Maybe it was from the excitement of not knowing quite what the
dragon would consider proper behavior, maybe, human nature
being what it is, because everyone had a sneaking hope of seeing
somebody else misbehave and get swallowed. But quite apart from
these reasons, the museum was a particularly nice and unusual one,
everything in it being made of glass. In the main hall stood
=Cinderella's glass coach and slippers, on the first floor was a
glass
doll's house all complete with furniture, lovely music was played
all
day long on a glass harmonica, and in smaller rooms there were
collections of glass fruit from =Venice  every colour of the
rainbow ,
glass animals, and a whole aviary full of birds with spun-glass
tails.
For that matter the dragon himself was made of glass: stretched
out in the sun or coiled round the great ilex tree in front of his
museum he made a stunning spectacle, each feather and scale
flashing like a frozen waterfall, his three heads keeping a sharp
lookout for customers in every direction. It was due to his three
heads, in fact, that the dragon had given up his regular habit of
eating people, since, either because of old age or greed or just
general cantankerousness, the heads could never come to an
agreement over whose turn it was to swallow the next victim. And
all this fuss before meals gave the dragon indigestion and hiccups,
so, on the whole, he had found it simpler not to swallow anybody.
Of course the public did not know this.



peas and beans, oatmeal mush
with syrup, or a pot of fried bread.
Just as =Rene =La =Salle's
group had known fatigue, so
did =La =Salle II.
The members set a brisk
pace of =58'60 paddle strokes a
minute. They paddled for one
hour and rested ten minutes.
It was estimated that each
person paddled about =15'000
strokes a day.
 The only way we kept
going was to let our minds
wander,  one said. Of course,
songs, like  =Alouette,  helped
pass the time and keep the
paddlers in unison. In earlier
times the singing was so
important for keeping the
paddlers in rhythm that the
song leader was paid more
than the rest of the crew.
=La =Salle II also braved the
vagaries of the weather, the
heat in summer and the cold
in winter.
The winter of =1976 was one
of the worst on record.l =Yet
even in subzero weather the
group slept in sleeping bags
under the canoes. The team
credited wool clothing with
being its major means of
keeping warm and found that
the body adapts to the
weather.
 The only time we caught
cold,  one voyageur said,
 was when we went indoors
to talk to people. 



=Wyoming had been newly proclaimed a territory, and that fall it
was to hold its first territorial election. Although =Wyoming
claimed a
vast spread of land, its population was only nine =thousand. There
were few women in the territory. The men had reason to know the
courage of the women, their endurance, their determination.
=Esther =Morris was determined that these women would  
someday have the ballot, and she had a plan. After careful thought,
=Esther decided to give a tea party. First to be asked were the two
men who 
had been nominated by their parties to serve as representatives to
the new territorial legislature: her friends =William =Bright and
=Hermar =Nickerson. When the =Brights and the =Nickersons had
accepted, =Esther gave thought to her other guests, the kind who
would make intelligent voters. On =September =2, =1869, twenty
guests assembled for the tea party. Although there was new snow on
the mountains, =Esther's garden was still a glory of pink, purple,
and lavender fall asters. Inside, the shack was bright with flowers
too.  =Esther served the tea , the homemade bread, and the cakes
she
had frosted. Then, when


If you are not looking for a particular book but are trying to find
information on a particular subject, you should look for subject
cards for that subject. The top line of a subject card tells what
subject the book is about.

The cards in the card catalog give other important information
about a book besides the author, title, and subject. You can see
that
each also shows the name and city of the publisher, the publication
date, the number of pages in the book, and whether or not the
book is illustrated. The publication date of an informational book
is
important. A book with a recent publication date will probably have
newer information than one published many years ago.

Notice the number =534 and the letter =G with =843 after it in the
upper
left-hand corner of each card. The number is the call number. The
letter is the first letter of the author's last name, and the =843
is a
number associated with this author. Some libraries use the first
three
letters of the author's last name instead of a number like =843.
For
example, for the author =Jerry =Grey, the letters =GRE would be
used.
The spine of the book has the same number and letter followed by
=843. Every nonfiction book has its own call number and is placed
on
the shelf in numerical order.

Cards for fiction books and individual biographies do not usually
have call numbers. Fiction books may be marked =F  for fiction  or
=IF  for juvenile fiction  or in some other way. The cards for
biographies
are marked with a =B. Fiction books are shelved alphabetically
according to the author's last name. Biographies are shelved
alphabetically by the last name of the person the book is about.
The
biography =Abe =Lincoln =Grows =Up by =Carl =Sandburg would be
shelved in the =L's for =Lincoln and not under =S for =Sandburg.

To find a book like the one named on the title card on page =363,
write down the call number, the title of the book, and the author's
name. Then go to the stacks and look for the books whose spines
are marked with the call number you are looking for. Look among



The prince who attended the meeting in =Iowa dreams of
hauling icebergs up from =Antarctica to irrigate the dusty deserts
of the =Middle =East. His ambitious plan has two stages. The first
=berg or =bergs will be brought to islands in the Indian =Ocean and
allowed to melt in the hot sun. Surging streams of rushing water
from the melting bergs will generate hydroelectric power in the
course of the runoff. Then the water will be pumped into tankers
and shipped to the =Middle =East. Eventually =billion-ton bergs
will
be towed directly there and moored offshore. It could take as long
as three years for a large berg to melt away. During that time,
=hundreds of =thousands of gallons of fresh water could be drawn
off daily. It would pour new life into once barren, waterless
wastelands.
And there would be an important extra. Such a  captive  berg
could serve as a massive floating freezer to preserve perishable
foods. The prince says that, for most of its three-year life, this
natural refrigerator could store his country's entire food supply.
Then another =billion-ton =berg would be brought up from
=Antarctica.
There is even talk that properly placed weatherbergs might
ultirnately help control our weather patterns. Specifically, in
hot,
storm-prone tropical areas the icy chill of an iceberg could cool
down a raging hurricane or typhoon by reducing the heat of the
surrounding atmosphere.
All this might sound a bit fanciful if it were not that some of it
has already started. In northern waters ships are actually towing
icebergs that may weigh two to four =million tons or more. The tow
ships pull the mighty mountains of ice away from offshore oil rigs
that would otherwise be destroyed.

 Iceberg Alley .


For some time, drillers have been probing deep undersea off
the =Newfoundland-Labrador coast. At least one platform has been
built, gas has been found, and =Newfoundland expects oil soon.
But the trouble is that all this drilling and eventual pumping lie
smack in the middle of  Iceberg =Alley.  This famous ice chute is
a =1'000-mile stretch of sea where the big bergs drift south from
=Greenland glaciers. In =1974, =3'000 bergs plowed down the
=Labrador =Current in a terrifying parade. The next year there were
=2'000. If even a little =50'000-ton growler should hit an oil rig,
it would be a disaster.



Suppose that you are working on a report. The facts, or data, that
you have collected are related and can be expressed by numbers. A
good way to present these facts is by using graphs. Many kinds of
graphs can be used to picture data. They all make it easy for you
to present your data in a clear and interesting way. People can use
your graphs to understand quickly what your facts are and how they
are related.

Bar graphs, like the one below, are often used to compare related
things. They can be made to show infommation with the bars drawn
across the page horizontally or with the bars drawn vertically  up
and down . The graph below is a horizontal bar graph. The title at
the top of the graph tells you what kind of information it shows.
What information does it show? The names of the selected teams
are found at the left side of the graph. The number of people
attending the games is expressed by the numerals at the bottom of
the graph. Notice that each vertical line stands for one-tenth  ='1

of a =million people. The line for five-tenths  ='5  stands for
half a =million people. Find the line for one and one-half  =1'5 
=million people. Now =rey compare the number of people attending
the =Kansas =City =Royals' home games with the number attending the
=Texas =Rangers' home games. For which team was the attendance
larger? 



 Will you bring it?  she said, solving his problem.  My father
will be glad to see you. 
Of course. I'll bring it tomorrow evening. 
=Again she gravely inclined her head, and tuming, was gone,
though whether by the door or window he could not be sure.
He crossed to the window and stood for some time staring up
at the black bulk of the castle on the =thom covered hill, before
returning to his desk and the unfinished sentence. He left the
curtains open.
Next morning, if it had not been for the prescription lying on
his desk, he would have thought that the incident had been a
dream. Even as he took the slip along to =Boots to have the
medicine made up he wondered if the white-coated woman there
would suddenly tell him that he was mad.
That evening, dusk was falling as the last of his surgery
patients departed. He went down and locked the large gates and
then started the long climb up the steps to the castle. It was
lighter up on the side of the knoll. The thorns and brambles
grew so high that he could see nothing but the narrow stairway
in front of him. When he reached the top he looked down and
saw his own house below, and the town with its crooked roofs
running to the foot of the hill, and the river wriggling away to
the sea. Then he turned and walked under the arch into the great
hall of the castle.
The first thing he noticed was the scent of lime. There was a
big lime tree which, in the daytime, grew in the middle of the
grass carpeting the great hall. He could not see the tree, but why
was a lime tree blossoming in =October?
It was dark inside, and he stood hesitating, afraid to step
forward into the gloom, when he felt a hand slipped into his. It
was a thin hand, very cool; it gave him a gentle tug and he moved
forward, straining his eyes to try and make out who was leading
him. Then, as if the pattem in a kaleidoscope had cleared, his
eyes flickered and he began to see.
There were lights grouped round the walls in pale clusters,
and below them, down the length of the hall, sat a large and
shadowy assembly; he could see the glint of light here and there
on armour, or on a gold buckle or the jewel in a headdress as
somebody moved.
At the top of the hall, on a dais, sat a royal figure, cloaked and
stately, but the shadows lay so thick in between that he could see



One night Isabel =Torres and her parents were sitting before
their =Vista-vision set with its six-foot-wide screen. They were
watching a historical movie about life four =hundred years
earlier. It was about pioneers in covered wagons. Some of the
characters were riding across great plains covered with waving
grasses. Others were watering their horses at a real stream of
gurgling water, and they were standing under real trees with
green leaves on them. In the background were towering  
mountains and wide blue skies and a golden sun shining down.
 Father,  said Isabel,  do you think it was really like that four
=hundred years ago, back in the =1800s? 
 I suppose so,  answered her father.  Life was very primitive.
It wasn't at all like the clean, modern, safe life we have in our
=Life =Domes underground here. At that time there were dirt and
disease and hunger. Now that we live in this sterile atmosphere,
we don't get sick, and we age very little after we grow up. We
should be grateful for our safe, underground, plastic domes, our
hydroponic plants that feed us, and our life-sustaining gear. 
=Isabel's father was a quiet, mild-mannered person, as were
most humans. Now, in the year =AD =2200, there simply wasn't
enough oxygen in the air for vigorous activity. The old  
airtunnels leading down from the surface of the earth had been
blocked not long after the survivors from the surface had settled
underground.
 Those were dangerous days,  said =Isabel's father.
 I guess it was dangerous,  said =Isabel. To herself she was
saying,  =Yes, and exciting too! I'd love to live in a world like
that, with grass and trees and mountains and real animals all
around. I must have had great-great-great-grandparents who
pioneered the =Wild =West. I'm like them, not like my father and
mother.  She looked at her parents lovingly, but felt sorry for
them at the same time.
&&000 SCOTT, FORESMAN  (1985)  1ST GRADE         SF19858T.ASC
SIGHTS AND SOUNDS by Richard L. Allington et al
Focus series
Source: Elmira College  xerox, scan edit by DPH January 18, 1993

&&111



friend joined the children's group
of a ballet company.  When I
started, nobody questioned it,
even though other boys didn't
dance. I had the same friends
throughout junior high. They
knew I liked to dance and that
was okay with them. 
As any excellent athlete in
high school would, =Greg applied
for a scholarship to college and he
won. Even then he wasn't sure he
wanted to dance for a career. He
studied dance, but planned on
majoring in business.
His experiences in college
changed dancing from something
that was  just fun  to a genuine
love. He's been dancing ever since.
Like athletes, a dancer's career
is short. Unlike athletes, even the
best dancers do not earn much
money. =Greg teaches to earn extra
money.
Even with these problems,
=Greg says he's happy with his
choice.  I'm doing what I want to
do,  he says. The people who
flock to see the =Hubbard =Street
=Dance =Company are happy with
=Greg's choice too.



from The =Odyssey of =Homer

Retold by =Pat =Motto

Part I: Queen =Penelope
The waves of the crystal sea washed up onto the
shore where the boy had built his fortress of sand.
The fortress lasted until suddenly a large wave broke
over it and carried it out with the tide. Without
hesitating or shedding a tear, the boy began to
reconstruct the fort.
=Telemachus, his mother called to him,  come
back here now. I have to interrupt your important
work,  she said smiling.  Let me clean you up a bit
before your father arrives to pick us up. 
In fact, the boy's father had already arrived. He
stood at a distance, not wanting to disrupt the
tranquil scene. He wanted to fix this loving encounter
firmly in his mind so it would never disappear, for he
knew he would have to be gone for a long time.
=Penelope, he beckoned to his wife.
Startled, she turned quickly and faced him.
Although they had been married for several years,
each time she focused her gaze upon his face she was
struck again with the fineness of his features and her
love for him continued to grow.
She took his face into her hands and began to
gently kiss him, but something in his look stopped
her.  What is it, =Ulysses? she asked, frightened



Put a cement lid over our beautiful river? Never! 
=Emily =Edwards, an artist and schoolteacher in =San
=Antonio, =Texas, was angry. The city council was
planning to cover the =San =Antonio =River in the
downtown part of the city with cement, which was
needed to control flooding. This solution, though,
meant destroying the most beautiful and historic
places along the river.
=Emily =Edwards was determined to stop this. She
gathered some of her friends and they formed the
=San =Antonio =Conservation =Society to save the river
and the historic buildings along its banks. It was
=Emily's feeling that if she and her friends talked to
city officers and business leaders, they would support
her efforts.
But just talking did not seem to be enough. =Emily
=Edwards decided to make a more dramatic appeal.
She wrote a clever puppet show called  =The =Goose
=That =Lays the =Golden =Eggs  and put it on for the
mayor and city commissioners at the city hall. It told
a lively story of how Mrs =San =Antonio saved the life
of her old =Goose =That =Lays the =Golden =Eggs, the
river. She argued that the =Goose must be saved so
that future citizens could enjoy its =Golden =Eggs, the
trees, parks, old buildings, that were the river's
treasures.
The mayor and the commissioners enjoyed the
play, but they were impressed too. They became



There was =Sean, the one she'd called too little. I
wouldn't have said  little  exactly. I'd have said
tiny.  He looked like a refugee from kindergarten.
There was my beloved sister, =Sam, who had started
this, plus two of her pals.
Those were the quiet ones. Then there were the
not-so-quiet ones: the pair hanging from the monkey
bars, the boy in the tree who was bombarding =Lenny
with acorns, and the tangle of jeans and elbows
squirming on the ground, shoving burrs down each
other's shirts. My team. It was up to me, =Carol
=Alexandra =Kincaid, to make order out of this chaos.
Hey, you three,  I barked in the general direction
of the boys,  get down and come here. We're going to
play soccer. 
Eventually all the kids were sitting around me. I
clutched the soccer ball and spoke in the firmest voice I
could muster.  The first thing you've got to learn in
soccer,  I announced,  is ball control and teamwork.    



=Mafatu eyed it uncertalnly. He knew what he ought
to do. He should dive and retrieve it. To make
another knife so fine would take days. Without it he
was seriously handicapped. He must get his knife!
The reef-wall looked dark and forbidding in the
fading light. Its black holes were the home of the
giant octopus.    The boy drew back in sudden
panic. He had never had to dive as deep as this.
The boy gazed down at the knife longingly. He
remembered the morning he had found the whale's
skeleton washed up on the beach. It was the first one
he had ever seen. The long hours that had gone into
the making of the knife from the whale bone.    It
had saved =Uri's life too, when the shark had attacked
the dog. And now =Uri, in the bow of the canoe, was
looking at his master with puzzled eyes.
=Mafatu drew a deep breath. How could he
abandon his knife? Was he still =Mafatu,  The Boy
Who Was Afraid ?
He leaped to his feet and, taking a coral weight
that lay in the canoe, he was over the side in the
water. With a deep breath he descended feet-first,
allowing the weight to pull him downward. At about
=twenty feet he released the weight, turned over, and
swam for the bottom.
Here the water was cool and green. The sunlight
filtered from above in long, waving bands. Painted
fishes fled before him. He saw a giant clam shell, five
feet across and taller than he. Its open lips were



Take a dollar bill or a strip of paper from your
pocket and fold it into a zigzag shape. Clip on the
two paper-clip chains, each on opposite ends.
 Would you each hold an end of the bill?  you
ask.  Now, with a touch of magic, I will link the
chains together. On the count of three, pull the ends
of the bill apart quickly and watch the chains link
together. One     Two     Three! 
Here's how to perform this trick. First, study the
illustration to see how to fold the dollar bill or strip
of paper. Be sure both ends stick out some.
Second, clip one chain on the front of the fold
with one end going inside. Third, clip the other chain
on the back of the fold with one end going inside.
Follow the illustration closely.
Next, pull the ends of the bill in opposite
directions so it straightens out. Almost immediately,
the chains will slide together, linking into a chain.
To become =Mysto the =Magician, you must practice
these tricks over and over. And, since a magician
must entertain an audience, it helps to have some
lively talk going on while you perform your tricks.
You may even want to design a costume for yourself.
Then, when you know the tricks thoroughly, you can
go on to amaze your friends and classmates.



Have you ever pictured yourself as a famous
performer? Can you hear the applause as you walk
across the stage to receive your reward for an
outstanding performance? Fame and fortune are all
yours.
But being famous isn't all award and applause.
Famous people have pressures and problems just like
you, because they are people too.


Recognizing Connotations.

Notice what each girl is saying about the people.
What word does each girl use to describe them?
The girls used the words crowd and mob to
describe the people. Both of these words have the
simple meaning,  a large number of people.  But the
word mob has an added meaning that suggests the
people are angry and unruly.  Words can have 
meanings in addition to their simple meanings. 
A connotation of a word is a
favorable or unfavorable meaning. It is a meaning a
word has in addition to its simple meaning.
When you read, it is important to notice
connotations. Writers often use them on purpose, to
suggest a meaning that is favorable or unfavorable.


In those long ago days, =Riverview  =Amusement
Park in =Chicago was in a class by itself. It was
world's largest, with more than a =hundred rides  
concessions.
=Riverview was for those who were willing to lay
their lives on the line for a few cheap thrills. Even
the hot dogs had to be approached with caution, the
sesame seeds on the buns tended to walk around.
Although =Riverview was called an  amusement 
park, many people thought of it as a  terror  park.
=Riverview's rides had been put there not for
enjoyment, but for testing one's bravery.
So there I was at =Riverview on a date with =Sarah.
I discovered that =Sarah was a thrill freak. We were
walking by the =Shoot the =Chute, which was a boat
ride down a big slide into a small lagoon. On a terror
meter, the ride would have hardly nudged the needle.
=Shoot the =Chute was one of the few rides in
=Riverview that didn't scare me or my  yellow belly. 
&&000 HOLT, RINEHART & WINSTON (1983) 8th grade     WIN9838T.ASC
GREAT WAVES BREAKING Level 17 Grade 8
By Bernard J. Weiss, Peter S. Rosenbaum, Ann M. Shaw & Millicent
Tolbert 
Source: SUNY Cortland, xeroxed, scanned and edited by DPH 12-15-92

&&111
Please, please, please, =Mister. Let me go home to my mother. I
won't do it again. I promise! 
It was no use. He was sent to the =Colored =Waifs =Home for =Boys.
=Louis was terribly lonely during those early days at the home. The
other boys were not the least bit friendly at first. He missed his
mother, 
=Mayann. Her red beans and rice were so delicious; he had none
here. He missed his younger sister, =Beatrice, whom they called
=Mama =Lucy. But most of all, he missed freedom.
He used to roam through all those =New =Orleans streets at will. He
used to dance lightheartedly behind those brass bands that played
at picnics, funerals, and carnivals. He missed the exciting music
that poured out of the open doors of the rough-and-tumble cabarets.
He missed the slow blues, the fast stomps, and the stirring, 
syncopated marches. He loved this music as much as life itself.
But he did find a happiness at the home. It was in listening to the

rehearsals of the =Waifs' =Home =Band. If only Mr =Peter =Davis,
the music teacher, would invite him to join! If only he would teach
him how to blow that golden cornet! Louis felt if he could just get
his hands on that horn, he might one day learn its secret and blow
it like the great men of =New =Orleans: =Bunk =Johnson, =Freddie
=Keppard, and his idol, the one and only =Joe =Oliver,  =Papa =Joe.

=One day, as the boy sat in the rear of the hall wistfully
listening to the young musicians, =Peter =Davis ambled up beside
him.  =Armstrong, is that all you do? Spy at our rehearsals? 
The boy looked up, frightened. The man smiled.  How would you
like to play in our band?  =Louis was so overwhelmed he couldn't
speak. The man repeated the question. Finally the lad stammered, 
Sure, Mr =Davis. I sure would.  And so =Louis =Armstrong became a
member of the =Waifs' =Home =Band. Instead of a cornet, he was
handed the lowly tamborine. Oh, well, he didn't mind. He was part
of a band! That's all that mattered. In no time he was promoted to
the drums.  =Peter =Davis sensed the boy's vigor and joy, his
natural feeling for the beat.
Quite suddenly the day he had been patiently awaiting came. The
boy who regularly blew the bugle was called for by his parents and
taken home. Who would now blow reveille and taps and mess call?
=Louis crossed his fingers. =Peter =Davis knew this. Immediately he
made a decision.  =Shoving the departed boy's bugle into =Louis's
hands, he said, The job is yours. Practice. 


=pirogues one red and one white. =Lewis was pleased to be
starting, as he wrote in his diary, and thought that his
little fleet would weather the trip without trouble,  
although it was not quite as respectable as that of =Columbus
or Captain =Cook. 
The men's armament consisted of short rifles made  
especially for the expedition, pistols, fusils  light flintlock  
muskets, blunderbusses, a swivel cannon, and an air gun.
They also had knives, axes, and spontoons, the last a  
combination short pike and ax. To the =Indians the swivel gun
and the air gun were the big medicine  of the expedition.
=York was also of endless interest to the =Indians. He  
entertained them with feats of strength and permitted them
to try rubbing off his  black paint.  When this pastime
became monotonous, he pretended to be ferocious and  
untamed. =Indian women thought that he was a spectacular
warrior.
=Scannon, =Lewis's =Newfoundland dog, who weighed =64
kilogams about =140 pounds  was useful to have along for
a trip upriver, for he was a water dog. Still, he must have
been weighty baggage for a canoe. On the journey he
frequently distinguished himself, sometimes for bravery,
sometimes for foolishness. He was big enough to kill an
antelope swimming in the river and haul it in. Yet when he
first met a harmless-looking beaver, he was badly bitten.
On this well-equipped expedition a few items were  
included that were not ordinarily found on a wilderness
journey, among them =Cruzatte's violin and the captains
writing desks. The violin survived the journey and made
music for dancing around many a campfire. Some of the
=Indians even said politely that they enjoyed violin music.
=Clark's desk lasted until =September =15, =1805, when one of
the pack horses slipped on the perilous =Lolo =Trail from
=Montana to =Idaho, fell down an embankment, rolled on the
desk and smashed it. That was only one of many accidents.
=Lewis's desk was cached before the expedition crossed the
mountains .
  One can imagine that =Sacajawea was excited by the trip.
She was no longer a prisoner of the =Hidatsa tribe that had
taken her captive five or six years earlier. 

woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find
=hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the
delicate symmetry
a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver
birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the
branches
of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening
Nature
after the winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of
a flower,
and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the
miracle
of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate,
I place
in my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a
bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool waters of a
brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine
needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious
=Persian rug. To me the pageant
of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which
streams through my fingertips.
At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things.
If I can
get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must
be revealed by sight? Yet those who have eyes apparently see
little. The
panorama of color and action that fills the world is taken for
granted. It is
human, perhaps, to appreciate little of that which we have and to
long
for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the
world of light
the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as
a
means of adding fullness to life.
If I were the president of a university, I should establish a
compulsory
course in  =How to =Use =Your =Eyes.  The professor would try to
show
the pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing
what
passes unnoticed before them. He or she would try to awake their  
dormant and sluggish faculties.
Perhaps I can best illustrate by imagining what I should most like
to
see if I were given the use of my eyes, say, for just three days.
And while
I am imagining, suppose you, too, set your mind to work on the
problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three
more days to see. If with the oncoming darkness of the third night
you
knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you
spend
those three precious intervening days? What would you most want to
let
our gaze rest upon?

I, naturally, should want most to see the things that have become
dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to
let 0ur eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you
so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night
that loomed before you.


=Annie =Dodge =Waunekais a =Navajo. The =Navajos are the
largest tribe in the country. Their vast reservation sprawls over
=65'000 =km2  =25'000 square miles  in =New =Mexico, =Arizona,
=Utah,
and
=Colorado. There are mountain peaks capped with crowns of
snow, towering =3'600 m  =12'000 feet  above the land. There are
strange, centuries-old rock formations, deep red, orange, and
yellow. There are long stretches of desert and shadowy
canyons. There are pine forests, grazing lands, and areas of
planted fields.
Since the coming of the =Spaniards many years ago, the  
=Navajos have been shepherds and horsemen. The women weave
beautiful rugs from the wool of their sheep and have developed
weaving to a fine art. The men are skilled in silver work,  
producinq some of the finest jewelry found anywhere.
Although they have taken on a good deal in the way of  
=American customs, the =Navajos still follow much of their
traditional
way of life. Ancient ceremonies are kept alive, and Indian
clothes are worn, especially by the women. Many of the people
prefer to live in the =Navajo-style house, a low round building of
log walls plastered with mud. There is a smokehole at the top of
the roof and a fire in the center of the floor. There are no
windows
and no furniture, or very little. The house, which looks something
like a beehive, is called a hogan.
It was in such a house that =Annie was born on an =April day in
=1910. The hogan belonged to her mother.
Annie's father was the noted =Henry =Chee =Dodge.


It starts with a raw crackling on the radios in the tractors that
grind across the field. Instinctively, the
drivers glance toward the west.
Soon most eastbound cars have
their headlights on, despite the
midafternoon sunshine. Quickly,
however, the sky turns a dull gray
as the silently swirling clouds scud
across the prairies.
A cold wind blasts through the
trees. The fields are cleared of  
humans. A flash from above bleaches
the landscape. A deep, tearing
sound barrels across the  
countryside, shaking windows and  
scattering chickens.
Another thunderstorm has
struck the =Middle =West.

Picnics Canceled

The midwestern thunderstorm, a
churning mass of violent air drafts
sometimes seething up to =24  
kilometers  =15 miles  above the earth,
is far more frequent, dangerous,
and violent than the rare one that
injured seven persons in =Brooklyn
on =June =6, =1976. But in the nation's
midsection, such a storm, one of
=1'500 thunderheads roaming the
globe's atmosphere at any one  
moment, is much more than a mere
picnic-canceling spectacle.
Here thunderstorms bring life,
shape life, end life. From spring
through summer, they rumble
across the heartland, depositing
life-giving moisture on what had
become the world's most  
productive agricultural area.
If the storms fail to come, come
too strongly, or arrive at the wrong
time in the growing season, as they
have in some years, the corn,  
soybean, and other crops will fail, the
nation's balance of payments will
suffer, food prices will rise, and
farm-family spending will wither.
When the storms do come, they
bring water  sometimes several
inches in one hour , cooler air, fear,
and death. Each year, lightning and
thunderstorms kill about =400
=Americans. Tornadoes, those
whirling, fickle fingers of wind that
drop from the belly of giant  
thunderstorms to turn thriving  
communities into splinters in seconds
, claim the lives of a few =hundred
more humans annually. At least
three people died in one month
when a tornado ripped through
parts of =Omaha.


Thunderstorms are so much a part of life in
the Midwest that they
are regularly included in  
youngsters early training. In the cities,
parents may instruct children on
what to do if approached by a
stranger with candy; in the country,
toddlers are taught never to stand
under trees, in open fields, or on
hilltops during a thunderstorm.
The inevitable summer  
newspaple article about the young
pitcher who defied a thunderstorm
for one last inning of baseball and
died in a flash of lightning is often
used as an informal family text on
what not to do.


=Georgia =O'Keeffe is a painter who has challenged tradition all
her life. In =1915, at the age of twenty-eight, deciding that her
art was too heavily influenced by others, she destroyed all of it,
and started fresh. l realized that I had a lot of things in my head
that didn't have,  she once recalled. A native of =Sun =Prairie,
=Wisconsin, she began drawing at a young age and decided to become
a serious artist. Even in those early she was determined to paint
in her own way. In =1908, she =zzzz to give up painting rather than
copy her teachers. She did =zzzz again until =1912.
Her recognition as a major, innovative artist came soon after. In
=li she sent some abstract drawings to her friend =Anita =Pollitzer
in =NewYork. Acting as intermediary, but against =O'Keeffe's
wishes, =Pollitzer gave the drawings to =Alfred =Stieglitz, the
famous photographer, whom she knew =O'Keeffe admired. =Stieglitz
was so impressed by the drawings that he included them in a show at
his gallery. =O'Keeffe, furious, insisted that he take them down,
but he refused. Despite this difficulty, the two fell in love and
were
married in =1924. Shortly after their marriage, =Stieglitz and
=O'Keeffe bought an old house in the =New =Mexico desert. The arid
landscape, the broad skies of the desert greatly appealed to the
artist, and over the =forty years she found there the subject
matter of her art. The contours of the land, its bleached animal
bones and brilliant
&&000 HOLT RINEHART WINSTON   (1986)  8TH GRADE   WIN9868T.ASC
LEVEL 17  GREAT WAVES BREAKING by Bernard J. Weiss et al
Source: SUNY Cortland  xerox, scan edit by DPH February 3, 1993

&&111



he'd arrive in an old =Model =T, probably with writing on the
body. We were sitting in the dining room just finishing lunch,
when a new, =1925 =Packard roadster-pulled into the driveway.
There was no writing on it, except for the initials =AL, in  
six-inch letters on the doors. Behind the wheel, wearing the most
luxurious raccoon coat we had ever seen, was =Al.
 That coat,  =Martlla whistled,  cost six =hundred dollars if it
cost a nickel. And goodness knows what a =Packard costs. 
 Don't you ask him what it cost, either!  =Ernestine warned.
 You can count on me to act civilized,  =Frank told =Ernestine.
 If you can land him, none of us will ever have to work. 
 Get away from those windows,  begged =Ernestine, who  
herself was peeking from behind a curtain.  Golly, look at that
classy car! 
 Everybody sit down,  =Mother ordered.  Where are your
manners? 
We came back to the table and heard =Tom go to answer the
doorbell.  A moment later he opened the door from the front
hall into the dining room and stuck in his head.
 It's for you, =Princess,  he announced.  And from the coat
he's wearing, it's a good thing nobody ain't out hunting today in
the royal woods. 
 That will do, =Tom,  =Mother said sternly.
 =Henc, =henc,  =Tom wheezed.  I seen him before at  
=Nantucket.  =Ernestine glared at him and put her forefinger to her
lips, but tried to laugh gaily.  When he came in,  said =Tom,  I
asked him for six cans of peas. Hejumped and said, Yes, sir,
anything else? =Henc, =henc. 



three days later, the =Corps of =Discovery had further  
excitement. =Clark narrowly escaped being bitten by a  
rattlesnake, and that night their campfire set a large tree ablaze.
The trunk burned partly through, and a high wind brought
the tree crashing down among the tents. No one was  
injured.
On =May =20, =Sacajawea received her first formal  
recognition: A river was named in her honor. The name,  
unfortunately, did not endure. As =Ordway's journal notes,  With
less gallantry, the present generation calls it =Crooked
=Creek.  
Although the expedition had not yet encountered any
=Indians, and was not to see any until it reached the  
headwaters of the =Missouri, there was evidence of =Indians here
and there, a recently occupied camp, an =Indian ball, a
moccasin. =Sacajawea, who studied the moccasin, said that
it did not belong to the =Shoshoni.
On the morning of =May =29, the party reached the mouth
of the =Judith =River. In the flats around the mouth of the
river they found remnants of =126 Indian lodges, but no  
=Indians. Along the bluffs beyond the mouth of the =Judith
were  buffalo leaps,  places where the =Indians stampeded
buffalo off the cliffs to their deaths. =Lewis wrote of the
cliffs. The wolves around the carcasses were so tame that
=Captain =Clark was able to kill one with his spontoon.
Next to come in sight along the =Missouri were high  
limestone cliffs that reminded =Lewis of elegant ranges of lofty
freestone buildings, having their parapets well stocked
with statuary; columns of various sculpture, both grooved
and plain. 
On =June =3, the expedition reached the mouth of a river
flowing from the north. The men stopped there for nine
days, while scouting parties went up both branches in an
effort to determine which river would lead them to the
=Rocky =Mountains. They named the newfound river the
=Marias. The =Missouri had been uniformly silty, and the
=Marias looked a good deal like it, but the river coming in
from the south  the =Missouri, as it proved  ran rapidly and
had transparent waters. The captains decided that this
branch came from the mountains and was therefore the



Since the cowhands have learned that an infantry division
can't budge these critters, they were bypassed, and later
counted from a helicopter. The  cooperative  buffalo were
then convinced to move into a series of ten fenced pastures
that gradually narrowed into corrals.
After the young were vaccinated and branded, most of
this group were freed to live out their twenty-to-thirty-year
life-span just as their ancestors did in Indian days. Of the
remaining group, =47 two-year-olds were either sold for
=$235 each to ranchers and breeders or given to nonprofit
institutions. Then, =150 surplus bulls and cows were
butchered and sold to parties who had applied in advance.
Although the refuge was created to save the bison, its
manager must still get rid of about =200 of them each year.
 The range can only graze a =thousand head,  said =Howard.
 Our problem, in effect, is having too many buffalo. 
Similar fall roundups, made necessary by  
overpopulation, are held at =Fort =Niobrara =National =Wildlife
Refuge in
=Nebraska. They also take place at =National =Bison =Range in
=Montana, =Sully's =Hill =National =Game =Preserve and
Theodore =Roosevelt =National =Memorial =Park in =North
=Dakota, and =Custer =State =Park in =South =Dakota. In =Canada,
there is a yearly roundup at =Alberta's =Elk Island =National
=Park, which has a herd of =800 buffalo. As long as the  king
of the range  causes  problems  like this, we can be
assured that the buffalo will always roam.



however. They and =Liza removed leg braces and spinal
supports from patients who supposedly  had to  have them,
and gradually they began to walk better without them. Her
hot and cold sprays greatly improved circulation, in a country
where central heating was considered unhealthy and patients
were often ill from poor circulation. She paid closer
attention to patients day-to-day progress than anyone had
considered necessary. More and more the hospitals therapists
were won over. They also felt that they understood her goals
better than did the doctors who never stayed long.

On =New =Year's =Day, =1938, she was in =Melbourne. She had
waited twenty-six months for the crucial report of the
=Queensland =Royal =Commission. The premier of =Queensland
was the first to inform her that it was out. He phoned her
from =Brisbane and said only that he was sending her a copy
by special delivery.
It arrived the next morning, it condemned her. Half an
inch thick, =130 pages, all disapproving, it said that she had
failed to make good on several of her claims. Of =forty-seven
cases studied, the majority  showed no effective improvement,
a few were worse, and a few improved.  Those who became
deformed would not have done so under orthodox treatment.
Established treatment was better, and immobilization, with
no movement whatsoever for three weeks, was still essential.
Her abandonment of it was  a grievous error,  certain to lead
to  a harvest of spinal deformities.  Her numerous treatments
were unnecessary; her early muscle treatment could not
possibly minimize paralysis. It was true enough that she could not
restore the muscles of most of the chronic paralytics; objective
testing often showed little or no change in muscle strength. But
several of her patients were nonetheless leading more active,
useful lives, if only more useful to themselves and to their
families. 


the things that cannot be and yet are,  and the years
went on.
A good many years had passed, and one day I was trying
to get some work out of the way while my three-year-old
insistently whined her desire to  go park and see ducks. 
 I can't go!   My reasonableness was wearing thin.   I
have this and this and this to do first, and when I'm through,
I'll be too tired to walk that far. My mother, who was visiting us,
looked up from the peas she was shelling.  It's a wonderful day, 
she offered,  really warm, yet there's a fine, fresh breeze. It
reminds me of that day we flew the kites.   I stopped in my dash
between stove and sink. So she remembered! The locked door flew
open, and with it a gush of memories, and the application
of her little parable. There had been much to do on that
long-ago =Saturday.
I pulled off my apron.  Come on,  I told my little girl.
 You're right, it's too good a day to miss. 
Another decade passed. We were in the uneasy after
math of a great war. All evening we had been asking our
returned soldier, the youngest =Patrick boy, about his experiences
as a prisoner of war. He had talked freely, but not for a long time
he had been silent, watching his cigarette smoke curl upward into
the summer darkness. The silence seemed suddenly to throb. What was
he thinking of.  What dark and dreadful things? What was he going
to tell. Say!  A smile twitched his lips. He looked like the little
boy he used to be, the very little boy always tagging behind 
us others.  Say, do you remember     no, of course you
wouldn't. It probably didn't make the impression on you
did on me. It was the first time I'd seen them. 
I hardly dared speak.  Remember what? 
 I used to think of that day a lot in =PW camp, what
things weren't too good. Do you remember the day we flew the kites?
Winter came, and the sad duty of a call of condolence Mrs =Patrick,
recently widowed. Her family had moved away many years before, but
she had brought back her husband's body to our town for burial. I
dreaded the call couldn't imagine how Mrs =Patrick would face life
along.  


It would also help to take some business courses so that you will
be able to handle the financial end of the business.
Some small businesses provide the same services that big
corporations do. However, because of their size, they can get to
know the people they serve, and many customers prefer this
personal service. For example, this is an insurance office. The
agents work directly with their customers and make sure that they
have the best, least expensive coverage. The owner of the
business hires other people to work for him or her. These people
enjoy the benefits of a small, intimate office where they know
everyone and can learn about all the different aspects of the
business.
Many small businesses are actually small parts of a large
company. This flower shop is an example. The owner has a
franchise with a large corporation that lets him or her offer
customers the products and services of the large corporation.
But the store still has a personal atmosphere of a small
business, and the owner still faces its challenges and reaps its
rewards.



boys, it was a good idea that gradually spread to other
northeastern states after =World =War =II.
Conceived as a summertime diversion for boys, it has never
had any problem attracting =millions of applicants for its more
than =100'000 teams in the =United =States and =thirty-one foreign
countries. After all, where else Can a kid get to play baseball in
a uniform and in a ballpark that with a little imagination can be
seen as just one step removed from the major leagues? Winning
was definitely not supposed to be the name of the game, but
according to the legion of =Little =League critics, it too often
became exactly that.  By the time =Maria played her third game as
a =Young =Democrat, even her parents were being subjected to abuse
and scorn by a vocal minority of =Little =League fans. Mrs =Pepe,
who attended all of =Maria's games, was frequently asked why her
daughter  wasn't home learning to sew or cook  or why =Angie
 was letting her nice little girl play basehall with all those
filthy boys. 
=Maria's abbreviated career was marked by escalating
unpleasantness, but it got really ugly only after the edict from
=Williamsport. From that point on, she was more than just a
trend-setting girl in a formerly all-boys world. =Maria was
publicly made the cause for the disenfranchisement of the city's
entire league.  The calculatedly severe action taken by the
corporation's board of directors had exactly the desired effect.
The pressure on =Maria and her parents for her to quit the team
built enormously.
Where once she could count her coaches and teammates on the
=Young =Democrats as ardent supporters of her right to play, most
now began to waver, and finally became polite opponents of that
right. But it was the grown-ups who really let her have it. When
she was outdoors, she would be stopped hy adults she scarcely
knew or didn't know at all.
 Little girl, because of you, my son =Johnny can't play baseball
anymore. Now, how does that make you feel? 
 =Maria, do you think it's right for you to spoil the summer for
two hundred other children?'
 =Maria, just because of your pride, all the other kids are going
to have a rotten time. 



loop all the way around, a third of the way in from the edge. If
you want to try this yourself, cut one-third of an inch in from
the edge of a one-inch =Mobius loop. Can you see why this
seemed magical?
The =Mobius loop is only one of many figures that are  
studied by a special group of mathematicians known as topologists.
Topology is very different from ordinary geometry. Instead of
keeping the same length, width, height, or other  measurements,
figures in topology can be greatly changed or distorted,
yet still remain the same figures. For example, as long as you
did not cut across the loop, you could cut a =Mobius loop in half,
as you just did, =thousands or =millions of times, but it would
still have the same properties. In topology, a doughnut is  
equivalent to a soda straw! Besides being fun and interesting to
study, the =Mobius loop has its uses for industry as well. Machine
belts are often made as =Mobius loops because they take twice as
long to wear out. Many science fiction authors deal with the
concept of the =Mobius loop because they are interested in the
idea of being able to go from one time or place to another
without crossing any boundaries.  After seeing the amazing =Mobius
loop, perhaps you will find it easier to imagine a subway system so
complicated that it has even stranger properties!



this one, =Pot =Belly, this one, =Little =Blush =Bottom, and this
one =Manuela,
because it reminds me so much of my youngest daughter. 
And the poor old man started weeping like a child.
 That is all very well,  said the inspector,  but it is not enough
for the
law that you recognize your pumpkins. You must identify them with 

incontrovertible proof. Gentlemen, this is no laughing matter, I am
a   lawyer! 
 Then you'll soon see me prove to everyone's satisfacffon, without
stirring from this spot, that these pumpkins were raised in my
garden,  said =Tio =Buscabeatas.
And throwing on the ground a sack he was holding in his hand, he
kneeled, and quietly began to untie it. The curiosity of those
around him was overwhelming.
 What's he going to pull out of there?  they all wondered.
At the same time another person came to see what was going on in
the group and when the vendor saw him, he exclaimed:
 I'm glad you have come, =Tio =Fulano. This man says that the  
pumpkins you sold me last night were stolen. Answer .   
The newcomer turned yellower than wax and tried to escape, but the
others prevented him, and the inspector himself ordered him to
stay. As for =Tio =Buscabeatas, he had already faced the supposed
thief, saying:
 Now you will see something good! 
=Tio =Fulano, recovering his presence of mind, replied:  You are
the one who should be careful about what you say, 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:
 Gentlemen, 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


It showed a criminal in the dock immediately after the judge
had pronounced sentence.  The man was fat, enormously fat.
The flesh hung in rolls about his chin, it creased his huge stumpy
neck.  He was clean-shaven, perhaps, I should say a few days before
he must have been clean shaven, and almosty bald.

I believe that I set out with the idea of calling upon =Trenton,
for I remember walking along =Lytton =Street and turning to the
right along =Gilchrist =Road at the bottom of the hill where the
men were at work on the new tram lines.
From there onward I have only the vaguest recollections of
where I went. The one thing of which I was fully concious was
the awful heat that came up from the dusty asphalt pavement
as an almost palpable wave. I longed for the thunder promised
by the great banks of copper-colored cloud that hung low over
the western sky.
I must have walked five or six miles, when a small boy roused
me from my reverie by asking the time.
It was twenty minutes to seven.
When he left me I began to take stock of my bearings. I
found myself stancling before a gate that led into a yard  
bordered by a strip of thirsty earth, where there were flowers,  
purple stock and scarlet geranium. Above the entrance was a board
with the inscription,