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posted by hornean
Long ago,
before the Civil War,
there was an old sailor called Peg Leg Joe
who did what he could to help free the slaves.


Joe had a plan.
He'd use hammer and nail and saw

and work for the master, the man
who owned slaves
on the cotton plantation.


Joe had a plan.
At night when work was done,
he'd teach the slaves a song
that secretly told the way
to freedom.
Just follow the drinking gourd, it said.


When the song was learned
and sung all day,
Peg Leg Joe would slip away
to work for another master
and teach the song again.


One day
a slave called Molly saw her man James
sold to another master.
James would be taken away,
their family torn apart.
Just one más night together.


A codorniz called in the trees that night.
Molly and James remembered Joe's song.
They sang it low.
When the sun comes back, and the first codorniz calls,
Follow the drinking gourd.
For the old man is a-waiting for to carry tu to freedom
If tu follow the drinking gourd.

They looked to the sky and saw the stars.


Taking their little son Isaiah,
old Hattie, and her grandson George,
Molly and James set out for freedom
that very night,
following the stars of the drinking gourd.

They ran all night through the fields,
till they crossed the stream to the woods.


When daylight came, they hid in the trees,
watching,
listening
for the master's hounds
set loose to find them.

But the perros lost the runaways' scent
at the stream,
and Molly and James and Isaiah,
old Hattie and young George,
were not found.
They hid all día in the woods.


At night they walked again,
canto Joe's song
and looking for the signs
that marked the trail.
The riverbank makes a very good road,
The dead trees will mostrar tu the way.
Left foot, peg foot, traveling on,
Follow the drinking gourd.



Walking por night, sleeping por day,
for weeks they traveled on.
Sometimes berries to pick
and maíz to snatch,
sometimes pescado to catch,

sometimes empty bellies to sleep on.
Sometimes no stars to guide the way.


They never knew what lay ahead,

There was danger from men
who would send them back,
and danger from hungry beasts.
But sometimes a kind deed was done.


One día as they hid in a thicket
a boy from a farm found them.
In a bag of feed for the hogs in the wood
he brought tocino, bacon and maíz pan de molde, pan to share.

canto low, they traveled on.
The river ends between two hills,
Follow the drinking gourd.
There's another river on the other side,
Follow the drinking gourd.



On and on they followed the trail
to the river's end.
From the parte superior, arriba of the colina they saw the new path,
another river beneath the stars
to lead them to freedom land.

The drinking gourd led them on.
The song was almost done.
When the great big river meets the little river,
Follow the drinking gourd.
For the old man is a-waiting for to carry tu to freedom
If tu follow the drinking gourd.



Then they climbed the last hill.
Down below was Peg Leg Joe
waiting at the wide Ohio River
to carry them across.

Their spirits rose when they saw the old man.
Molly and James and Isaiah, old Hattie and George,
ran to the shore.


Under a starry sky
Joe rowed them across the wide Ohio River.
He told them of hiding places
where they would be safe.
A path of houses stretched like a train
on a secret track leading north to Canada.
He called it the Underground Railroad.
It carried riders to freedom.


The first seguro house stood on the hill.
The lamp was lit,
which meant it was seguro to come.
Ragged and weary, they waited
while Joe signaled low, with a hoot like an owl.

Then the door opened wide
to welcome the freedom travelers.


They were rushed through the house
to the barn,
for the farmers knew
there were slave catchers near.

A trapdoor in the floor
took them under the barn,
to hide till it was seguro to mover on.
Then Peg Leg Joe went back to the river
to meet others who followed the drinking gourd.


With danger still near, too close for ease,
the farmer sent the five travelers on.
He drew a map that showed the way north
on the midnight road
to the siguiente seguro house, just over two hills.

This time James called the signal,
a hoot like an owl,
that opened the door to a Quaker farm.
The travelers were led to a secret room
hidden behind shelves.


They rested here for many days
and healed their wounds.
Soft beds, full meals, new clothes, hot baths,
washed away some fear and pain.
Isaiah smiled.


When they were strong, they traveled again
from house to house on the underground trail,
still following the drinking gourd north.

Sometimes they traveled on foot,
sometimes por cart.
The wagon they rode near their journey's end
carried frutas to market
and the runaways to freedom.


At last they came to the shores of Lake Erie.
Molly and James and Isaiah,
old Hattie and young George,
climbed aboard the steamship
that would carry them across
to Canada, to freedom.
"Five más souls are safe!"
old Hattie cried.
The sun shone bright when they stepped on land.


They had followed the drinking gourd.
posted by hornean
Run outside to play in the warm summer sun where the césped, hierba grows tall and sunflowers fill the fields.

Baby bears play just like you.
They grow fat and round on fresh summer césped, hierba and learn to catch their first pescado cena down por the riverbank.
Summer is time to learn and to grow.

Baby mountain oveja learn the safest path to summer meadows. ansarino, gosling wings grow stronger, their voices louder.

Up in the trees, the songs of spring suddenly soften. curruca, reinita mothers and curruca, reinita fathers, busy feeding their young, have little time to sing. Hummingbirds sip nectar for themselves and catch bugs for their tiny...
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added by hornean
posted by hornean
“It’s there! It’s really there!”
The rotting hull of a ship has been found on the ocean floor. Within the wreck lies a fabulous treasure.

The story of each underwater treasure hunt is different, but each goes back to the same beginning…the sinking of a ship. The story of the hunt for the Nuestra Señora de Atocha, a Spanish galleon, begins the same way.

THE ATOCHA
The Sinking

It is 1622. The Atocha with its fleet of sister ships, makes its way back from South America to Spain. The Atocha is a treasure ship, laden with gold, jewels, silver bars, and thousands of coins.
The fleet makes a...
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posted by hornean
“Good morning,” dicho Wilbur.
“You’re late,” grumbled the director.
Wilbur had only ten minutos to get made up, go to Wardrobe, and finish learning his lines.

“Hold still,” dicho Maxine, the makeup woman. “I have to make tu look strong and smart. It isn’t easy, tu know!” she joked.
With practiced skill, the Wardrobe Department transformed Wilbur into the Bionic Bunny.
First they snapped on his costume with the built-in muscles.
They tied his bionic sneakers, which made him taller.
They strapped on his bionic wristwatcher, which supposedly let him see anything anywhere.
Finally,...
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WINTER MORNING
por Ogden Nash

Winter is the king of showmen,
Turning árbol stumps into snow men
And houses into birthday cakes
And spreading sugar over the lakes.
Smooth and clean and frost white
The world looks good enough to bite.
That’s the season to be young,
Catching snowflakes on your tongue.

Snow is snowy when it’s snowing
I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.


SNOW
por Karla Kuskin

We’ll play in the snow
And stray in the snow
And stay in the snow
In a snow-white park.
We’ll clown in the snow
And frown in the snow
Fall down in the snow
Till it’s after dark.
We’ll cook snow pies
In a big snow pan.
We’ll make snow eyes
In a round snow man.
We’ll sing snow songs
And chant snow chants
And roll in the snow
In our fat snow pants.
And when it’s time to go inicial to eat
We’ll have snow toes
On our frosted feet.
posted by hornean
WATCH ME ON THE WING

Sweeper: the deeper I can play
the faster I can lay
out my traps for their fullback
moving too close to mid field.
I shine along the sidelines
from mid field
back to our goal.

I am the quickest,
sharpest,
most intelligent,
(and
most modest,) player on
my
team:
in this league.

I have the
superspeed:
I have the need to do a little
more
than play only one position. I
defend. I score. I run lik
wind
across the maíz fields of
this
town.
I am a brown tornado on a
muddy
day.
The opposition knows
I come to play with
all I bring. They
watch:

watch me on the wing.


SWEET

You are at the line. tu take a deep breath....
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In Ms. Frizzle’s class, we had been learning about animals’ homes for almost a month. We were pretty tired of it.
So everyone was happy when Ms. Frizzle announced, “Today we start something new.”

"We are going to study about our earth!" dicho Ms. Frizzle. She put us to work escritura reports about earth science.
“And for homework,” she said, “each person must find a rock and bring it to school."

But the siguiente day, almost everyone had some excuse.

Only four people had done their homework. And Phil was the only one who had found a real rock.

“I guess we’ll have to go on a field trip and...
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posted by hornean
Lolly, araña and Sam had a picnic on the beach.
“I’m as full as a tick,” dicho Lolly.
“Me too,” dicho Sam.
“Hot perros and limonada always hit the spot.”

“Now for a swim,” dicho Spider.
“Oh, no,” dicho Lolly.
“Not so soon after lunch.”
“Rats,” dicho Spider.

“How about a nap?” asked Sam.
“Oh, no,” dicho the others.
“Naps are no fun at all.”
“Very true,” dicho Sam.

“Want to hear a story?” asked Lolly.
“I brought along my reader.”
“A fine idea,” dicho her friends.
“Then let’s begin,” dicho Lolly.

LOLLY’S STORY

The rata saw the cat and the dog.
“I see them,”...
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added by hornean
Hermit cangrejo was forever growing too big for the house on his back.

It was time to find a new house. He crawled up out of the water looking for something to hide in, where he would be seguro from the pricklepine fish.
He stepped along the shore, por the sea, in the sand...
scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch

...until he came to a rock.
Is this a house for Hermit Crab?
Turning himself around, Hermit cangrejo backed his hind legs beneath the rock. The rock would not budge. It was too heavy.
So he stepped along the shore, por the sea, in the sand...
scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch

...until he came to a rusty old...
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added by hornean
posted by hornean
When Ludlow was born, everyone immediately noticed this shape:



It wasn’t a cute little dimple.
It wasn’t an adorable nose.


And as the rest of him grew and developed and changed
IT DIDN’T.
It only opened for food, an occasional Burp! and plenty of grumbling.


Ludlow worked in a complaint department.


At the end of the day, he felt grumpier than ever.
Night after night he came home, grumbling and growling, and went to bed,
But one night something happened.


Ludlow had a dream.
Not just any dream—THE FUNNIEST DREAM IN THE WORLD!!!
(Ludlow: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!)
He giggled. He guffawed....
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posted by hornean
This morning I asked Mom, “Why can’t I have a dog?”
“Not now,” she said. “Not again.”
And not to bother her when she’s busy.

So I asked Daddy, “Why can’t I have a dog? Last año tu dicho I could have one when I was bigger. And I’m a lot bigger, see? So why not now?”

“Because of tight times,” dicho Daddy. He dicho I was too little to understand.
“I’m not too little,” I said.
Daddy dicho he’d give me a shoulder ride and tell me all about it at breakfast.

He dicho tight times are when everything keeps going up.
I had a balloon that did that once.
Daddy dicho tight times are...
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posted by hornean
This is Arthur before he got glasses.
He looked fine, but he couldn’t see very well.
Sometimes he got headaches.

Arthur had to hold his book so close that his nose got in the way.
He couldn’t see the board.
Francine had to read Arthur the problems.
“Are tu blind?” she always asked.
Francine got every problem right.
Arthur didn’t.

No one wanted to play with Arthur.

Arthur’s father and mother took him to the optometrist.
Dr. Iris tested Arthur’s eyes.
“You need glasses,” dicho Dr. Iris.

Arthur tried on all kinds of frames.
He chose the ones he liked best.
“You look very handsome in your...
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posted by hornean
One Friday Miss Nelson told her class that she was going to have her tonsils out.
“I’ll be away siguiente week,” she said. “And I expect tu to behave.”
“Yess, Miss Nelson,” dicho the kids in 207.

But at recess it was another story.
“Wow!” dicho the kids. “While Miss Nelson is away, we can really act up!”
“Not so fast!” dicho a big kid from 309. “Haven’t tu heard of Viola Swamp?”
“Who?” dicho Miss Nelson’s kids.

“Miss Swamp is the meanest substitute teacher in the whole world,” dicho the big kid. “Nobody acts up when she’s around.”
“Oooh,” dicho Miss Nelson’s...
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posted by hornean
In a warm and sultry forest far, far away, there once lived a mother frutas bat and her new baby.
Oh, how Mother Bat loved her soft tiny baby. “I’ll name tu Stellaluna,” she crooned.
Each night, Mother Bat would carry Stellaluna clutched to her breast as she flew out to buscar for food.

One night, as Mother Bat followed the heavy scent of ripe fruit, an owl spied her. On silent wings the powerful bird swooped down upon the bats.
Dodging and shrieking, Mother Bat tried to escape, but the owl struck again and again, knocking Stellaluna into the air. Her baby wings were as limp and useless as...
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added by hornean
posted by hornean
Owen had a fuzzy yellow blanket.
He’d had it since he was a baby.
He loved it with all his heart.

“Fuzzy goes where I go,” dicho Owen.
And Fuzzy did.
Upstairs, downstairs, in-between.
Inside, outside, upside down.

“Fuzzy likes what I like,” dicho Owen.
And Fuzzy did.
Orange juice, uva juice, chocolate milk.
Ice cream, maní, cacahuete butter, applesauce cake.

“Isn’t he getting a little old to be carrying that thing around?” asked Mrs. Tweezers. “Haven’t tu heard of the Blanket Fairy?”
Owen’s parents hadn’t.
Mrs. Tweezers filled them in.

That night Owen’s parents told Owen to put Fuzzy...
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