Reading PassagesContentsJoe's Junk by Susan Russo 3 Meet a Model Scientist adapted from Owl Magazine 6 Islands by Anne Smythe 8 Tell Me About It by Don Hahn 11 The Trial of the Stone by Ricardo Keens-Douglas 13 CyberSurfer by Nyla Ahmad 17 The Camel Dances by Arnold Lobel 20 Growing Up by Sue Hendrickson 22 Fossils, Big and Small by Sue Hendrichson 25 The Day Gogo Went to Vote by Elinor Batezat Sisulu 31

My own brother, Alvie, was selling tickets to the World's Largest Indoor Dump. My room, of course.

Joe's Junkby Susan RussoMy name is Joe. All my life I have been a collector. I don't collect normal stuff like rocks or insects. I'm famous for my spectacular collection of junk.

"You trash it and I'll stash it!" That's my motto. I am also a great inventor. My room is a workshop. I have a huge box of wire and

some old bicycle parts. I have a ball of used string you wouldn't believe. I also have two enormous jars of nuts and bolts. And that's only the beginning.

Naturally, my room is my favourite place.

But Mother sighs when she walks by my room. My father says, "Unfit for human habitation," whatever that means.

I have made some really super inventions with my junk. I made a new kind of family pet. It did not shed or eat much. It just rolled around the room going, "Squeak, squeak!" My aunt was at the house when I wound it up. When she heard it, she suddenly said she had to run.

One day I needed my skateboard. All the kids were going to the park. I wanted to go too, but the kids got tired of waiting for me. I searched for three hours before I finally found my skateboard. It was in a box of "S" things with a Superman cape, metal springs, and 23 shoelaces. When I got through digging around, my room was in worse shape than before. Even I was disgusted!

Another day I came home and found a line of kids at the front door. My own brother, Alvie, was selling tickets to the World's Largest Indoor Dump. My room, of course.

My folks finally said, "Clear it up or clear out!" It took me some time to get around to the cleanup. One day I could hardly open

the door of my room. I couldn't find my homework, which upset my teacher. I couldn't find any clean clothes, which upset my parents. But worst of all, I couldn't find the parts I needed for my inventions, which upset me!

My parents were right. My collection of junk had to go. But where? And how? Then it hit me. A garage sale was the perfect solution to my problems. I would

have the Sale of the Century! So I began to work. There was a lot to do. But when the weekend came, I had the

greatest bunch of bargains that I had ever seen !

At first it was hard to see my treasures go. But when I took a good look at my customers, I felt better. Many people were pulling broken wagons, just like mine. They looked like collectors too. My junk was going to good homes. I could tell!

Well, I sold most of my terrific junk. I left the rest for the garbage collector. This pleased my folks. But I got a really creepy feeling when I went into my room. I mean, it was EMPTY. So when I saw that broken typewriter in the trash, I knew just where to put it. Likewise for the garden hose. And I have the best idea for a new invention.

"I want my dinosaur model to look as close as possible to the real thing."

Meet a Model Scientist              adapted from Owl MagazineGarfield Minott has been making dinosaur models since he was seven years old. Back then, he made dinosaurs just for fun. Today, his passion for making models has turned into a cool and unusual dinosaur job.When did you become interested in models? I've been making models ever since I was a kid growing up in Jamaica. My mom used to bake a lot and whenever she did, she would teach me how to mould things out of flour. In those days, I was crazy about lizards so that's mostly the kind of models I made.How do you make your models? Once I've researched in books and bones, I make a rough drawing. Then, I make a skeleton of the body out of welded steel. Next, I start layering on the muscles, which are made out of clay. When that's done, I start on the skin. If the dinosaur had scales, then I make the scales and layer them on one at a time. This could take three to five weeks. I want my dinosaur models to look as close as possible to the real thing.When did you get hooked on dinosaurs? When I was seven years old, my family moved to Canada. Because I was in a new country, I became a pretty shy kid. One day my teacher asked me what kinds of animals I liked. Of course I said "lizards." She said, "Well, if you like lizards you must like dinosaurs." I had no idea what a dinosaur was. She took me to the library, pulled a book off the

shelf, and showed me my first dinosaur. I went totally bananas!Did you ever imagine a career with dinosaurs? When I was a kid, I had a kit that came with tiny models of dinosaurs. I used these models to play "dinosaurs" with friends. But, after a while I learned about more kinds of dinosaurs than I had in my kit-- so I made the ones I didn't have out of Plasticine. And, if my T. rex got hungry and ate a whole herd of models, I had to make new dinosaurs very quickly! I did this so often that I became good at building models in no time at all. That's how I became a model expert.

She could hardly believe this was the same place she'd been swimming only a few months before.

Islands    by Anne Smythe

Laura dressed in her shiny purple parka, laced up her bright new skates. Perched on the rock where she always sat to catch minnows, she now saw that the warm water, which had tickled her feet in the hot summer sun, was frozen solid and clear as crystal. She could hardly believe this was the same place she'd been swimming only a few months before. Ribbons of snow shifted this way and that as she stared across to the islands in the distance.

I am going to skate to those islands, all the way to Swimming Rock, thought Laura, and she pulled her laces as tightly as she could, tied a double bow at the top of her skates, and stood up.

Swimming Rock was on the farthest of three islands that stood in the middle of this not-so-large oval lake. Laura remembered how the water had rippled and glittered as she'd paddled toward those islands with her father in the green canoe this past summer. It had seemed a long way away.

Laura pulled her soft new scarf up around her nose and skated in circles while she waited for her mom. Finally her mother stood.

Laura set off, her skates skirring over the ice. The sun shone like a soft, hazy globe above the trees on the far shore.

As she slid over thin cracks in the ice surface, she whispered, "Step on a crack, you break your mother's ..."

Oh, oh, she thought, that one did crack. Laura stopped and turned, waiting for her mom to catch up. Snap! There it went

again. "Mom?" she called, as her mother skated up beside her. "Is the ice thick enough?" "Twenty inches thick yesterday," said her mother. "How many centimetres is that?" asked Laura. Her mom laughed and put her hands up to show her just how thick the ice was. "That's thicker than a twenty-layer birthday cake," said Laura and, taking a deep

breath, she set out again. Laura watched for bumps, but the ice was as smooth as could be. The only marks

were those of other skaters who'd been there

before her. These made long thin curvy lines like spider webs cut deep into the blue-grey ice. As Laura listened to the sound her own skates made, she wondered what the fish might be hearing way down below. She could imagine them scared and scurrying away to another part of the lake, huddling together in the dark depths.

My feet are getting cold, she thought, but I'm not stopping now. Laura and her mother were more than halfway to the first island. Clouds covered

the sun. The air had become still and heavy. She kept going. The islands were her favourite place in the whole world. Sometimes sitting at her desk at school in the city, she could almost smell the pine trees. And even now, as she thought of that pungent scent in the soft summer breeze, her feet felt a little warmer.

But in animation, everyone who works on the film is a storyteller.

Tell Me About itby Don HahnPeople love to hear stories-- bedtime stories, news stories, sports stories, stories about people and places and things in the world around us. Some stories are about very real things and some are complete fantasies. Most often, stories are told by one person--an author, a newscaster, a film director. But in animation, everyone who works on the film is a storyteller.

On an animated film, the directors provide the vision for the type of story they want to tell. They work closely with the writers, story artists, and songwriters to create a story outline board. This outline usually consists of strips of paper pinned to a storyboard that describe, beat by beat, the plot of the film. Putting the entire film on an outline board keeps the plot clear and simple in everybody's minds. The writers and songwriters will begin writing scenes and songs for the film, always working with the director to find what is most interesting and entertaining about the story. Directors are careful not to have characters say what can be shown. It's much easier and stronger to show it than to tell it.

The story artists will take a small section of the script and begin to visualize it sketch by sketch on a storyboard. They'll look for ways to improve the script with new ideas for action or dialogue.

In story meetings with the directors, the storyboards are worked, reworked, and polished until they are a solid bit of storytelling. Lots of ideas develop in this stage and lots of ideas are thrown out too.

Some storyboards, like the wildebeest stampede in The Lion King, have very little dialogue and are based on action. Other sequences are based on fast-talking humour or on sensitive dialogue, as when Belle confesses her love to the dying Beast. Songs are often written and storyboarded early in the process because they provide the story "tent poles" for the whole movie. That's because in a musical, songs usually occur at critical turning points. If the songs are in the right places, they will provide good support for the rest of the story. Songwriters try to avoid "sitting duck" songs, which stop the story completely while the characters sing. No audience wants to sit through a song about something they don't care about.

The next time you go to an animated movie, watch closely as the credits roll by. Think about the director, writers, animators, and many others who worked together to bring the story to life.

"Arrest this stone .... It will stand trial for robbery."

The Trial of the Stone    by Ricardo Keens-DouglasA young boy called Matt had been walking on the road all day to visit his

grandfather in another village. Night was falling and he was tired, so he found a place by the side of the road where he could fall asleep, just outside a small town. He would continue his journey in the morning. In his pocket he carried a few coins. Worried that someone might come and take them while he slept, he hid the coins under a large stone. Then he lay down under the moonlit sky and fell asleep. But Matt was not alone.

The next morning, Matt woke up very hungry. He stretched and decided to wash in the nearby stream before going into town to buy a bit of breakfast. When he reached under the stone to find his little treasure, he felt only dry earth.

He pushed the stone aside with great difficulty and looked everywhere, his heart beating fast. These few coins were all the money he possessed in the world. Now Matt began to cry, for the money was gone. He looked under all the stones he could see, but found nothing.

He wailed so loudly that the townspeople came running to see what was wrong, the Chief and the Town Constable among them. So the boy told his story.

"Did you see anybody before you fell asleep?" asked the Chief. Matt shook his head.

"Where is this stone?" asked the Chief, and Matt pointed to the place where he had hidden his coins. The chief scratched his chin. Finally, he held up his hand.

"Arrest this stone," he said to the Constable. "It will stand trial for robbery."

No one moved, thinking they must have heard wrong. "Take it to the court," said the Chief. 'What are you waiting for?" It took three strong men to carry the accused to the court, which was already

overflowing with curious people. The Constable calmed the excited crowd, while the stone and the boy stood in front of the Chief.

But before things could get underway, a large family of geese noisily invaded the courtyard and had to be persuaded to leave.

"Stone, do you admit robbing this boy, Matt, of his money?" asked the Chief. There was no reply. The Chief then told the clerk to record that the stone refused to answer. A loud

laugh came from a man in a red shirt. The Constable gave him a stern look. "Stone, what were you doing at the edge of the road?" asked the Chief. The stone did not respond. There was more laughter from the crowd."Quiet in the court," said the Chief, and he looked serious. "Stone, what village

are you from?" he asked. The stone did not reply, but a woman in the crowd stuffed her scarf into her

mouth to muffle her giggles.

"Stone, who are your parents?" the Chief demanded next. When the stone remained silent once again, the Chief instructed the clerk to

record that the stone showed contempt of court and would be punished. The stone showed no emotion, but at this the crowd burst out laughing. The man in the red shirt

toppled right over, he was so amused. The chief stood up and shouted to the clerk, "Enter in the records that upon the

judgment, the crowd raised a huge commotion in disrespect of the court," and right then and there he fined each spectator one penny. The Constable collected the coins and the Chief turned them over to the delighted Matt, who was soon on his way to his grandfather's village, having first enjoyed a fine breakfast.

As for the stone, the man in the red shirt was ordered to take it back to the side of the road all by himself.

The Internet is like a spider's web except that, instead of silk, the Internet "weaves" telephone lines to create sections of linked computers.

CyberSurferby Nyla AhmadGet Set for the Net!

The Internet, or "Net" for short, is a worldwide network of computer networks. What's that? Think of a spider spinning its web. First the spider spins a few strands of silk joined in diamond-shaped sections. As the web grows, the sections are attached to more sections. On and on the spider goes, building more sections and attaching them to the rest until, finally, the web is complete. The Internet is like a spider's web except that, instead of silk, the Internet "weaves" telephone lines to create sections of linked computers. Computer experts began creating the Internet by linking a few computers together to form a group, or

network. Then they linked, or hooked up, this first network to other networks with cables, microwaves, satellites, and the other high-tech systems that carry electronic information around the world.

A spider's web houses one spider, but the Net's web of computers is home to more than 40 million scientists, teachers, journalists, librarians, business people, and kids like you. The Internet web is set up to catch information, not flies. All kinds of information--messages, books, photos, video, and sound--travel across the web in just a few seconds. And, just as a spider wanders around its web, walking along interconnected strands of silk, Internet users wander the worldwide web of computers to get at some incredible stuff.Cyberstories-Cyberpals Around the World. Some kids send and receive e-mail just for fun. Others use e-mail to save orangutans or to plan and build a new city.Going Ape. The kids at Pasir Ridge International School in Kalimantan, Indonesia, are using cyberspace to help save orangutans. These kids started an adopt-an- orangutan program to help the Orangutan Reintroduction Project in their area. The Pasir Ridge kids got students from other classrooms around the world to "adopt" orangutans by donating money to the project. In exchange, the kids at Pasir Ridge work closely with the people at the orangutan centre to make sure that the money is spent on giving the orangutans the care they need. Then they e-mail progress reports, via the Internet, to kids around the world.

City in Cyberspace. How did kids from cities at either end of North America work together to build a new city? Through e-mail! The CitySpace project involved students aged 9 to 16 from the Exploratorium in San Francisco and from the Ontario Science Centre in Toronto. These kids used e-mail to communicate as they planned the "construction" of a city on the Net. They formed roadwork crews, teams of engineers, and waterworks departments to decide everything about their new city--its exact size;all the road, bus, train, and subway systems needed to keep the citizens moving; the houses, schools, hospitals, and airports; the utilities; and all the other components of a working city. The buildings and other city pieces were constructed in 3D on computers at

school, home, or the project site, and then were added to the CitySpace model on a powerful computer. When their city was complete, the kids "flew" around it in cybercrafts called "HoverBoys," meeting up with their cyberpals from across the continent.

"You are not and never will be a ballet dancer!"

The Camel Dances    by Arnold Lobel

The Camel had her heart set on becoming a ballet dancer. "To make every movement a thing of grace and beauty," said the Camel. "That is

my one and only desire." Again and again she practised. She worked for long months under the hot desert

sun. Her feet were blistered, and her body ached with fatigue, but not once did she think of stopping.

At last the Camel said, "Now I am a dancer." She announced a recital and danced before an invited group of camel friends and critics. When her dance was over, she made a deep bow.

There was no applause. "I must tell you frankly," said a member of the audience, "as a critic and a

spokesperson for this group, that you are lumpy and humpy. You are baggy and bumpy. You are, like the rest of us, simply a camel. You are not and never will be a ballet dancer!"

Chuckling and laughing, the audience moved away across the sand. "How very wrong they are!" said the Camel. "I have worked hard. There can be no doubt that I am a splendid dancer. I will dance and dance just for myself."

That is what she did. It gave her many years of pleasure.MORAL: Satisfaction will come to those who please themselves.

People often ask me whether my interest in searching for buried items started in my childhood.  

Left: Sue at age nine. Right: The Hendrickson family at home in Munster, Indiana.

Growing Up          by Sue Hendrickson

To start at the beginning: I was born in Chicago, Illinois, on December 2, 1949, and grew up in the suburb of Munster, Indiana. I was the middle of three children, with an older brother and a younger sister.

I was a very shy little girl. When my mother would drop me off atbirthday parties, I'd simply sit on the doorstep for hours. Mom would come back to get me and find that I'd never even gone inside! When I was seven, I joined the Brownies and stayed with the Girl Scouts until junior high. I loved the challenge of earning badges and learning about the outdoors.

Sue as a Brownie (front row, left)

I enjoyed going to school and always wanted to know more. My love of learning earned me straight A's in all of my subjects. Not one for large groups, I was happiest when I escaped into my world of books. I read almost anything I could get my hands on, usually finishing a book a day.

People often ask me whether my interest in searching for buried items started in my childhood. The answer is yes.

My earliest memory of finding "treasure" is when I was around four years old. In those days, there was an alley near our house where people would burn their garbage. I loved wandering down that alley, poking through the wire bins that held the burnt ashes.

One day, I'll never forget it, I saw a shiny piece of metal winking at me from the dusty blackness. I reached between the wires and pulled out a small brass perfume bottle. It was perfect--smooth and bright, with a tiny, white heart on it.

I never found out who owned that bottle or who had been silly enough to throw it away. All I knew was that I had found it. I've kept it to this day. It is one of my most favourite discoveries.

In addition to reading, I also spent happy days just playing outdoors. Being a "city kid," I didn't often get to enjoy a lot of

the things nature had to offer. But when summers rolled around, I could hardly wait to get to Girl Scout camp. I felt truly at home out in the open with no walls or roofs. That's where I learned to love nature and the wild outdoors. As I grew older, my shy personality stayed with me. My mother wanted me to join the town swim team, where I would compete against other girls my age. I did as she asked and won all of my races. Though I loved swimming and being in the water, I hated every minute of the competition. Competing against others (and having people watch me!) was something I never wanted to do.

I quit the team after two summers. But my love of the water would serve me well in years to come.

By the time I was 15, I began to develop "itchy feet." I wanted to go somewhere, anywhere. I wanted to do something. Suddenly, the town of Munster seemed far too

small. I began to work various jobs--baby- sitting, working the cash register at a clothing store--to make money. Being able to pay my own way would mean independence and freedom.

Though I didn't know it at the time, I was about to get both of these things much sooner than I expected.

There, inside this fiery stone, was a perfect, ancient insect.

Fossils, Big and Smallby Sue HendricksonDominican Republic. In 1974, I travelled with a group of divers to work on a historical shipwreck off the coast of the Dominican Republic. Unfortunately, because we would have to wait two years for a proper permit, we never got to work on that wreck. Still, I will always be glad that I took the trip. It introduced me to one of my favourite places on Earth.

Bayahibe Beach, Dominican Republic

Large planthopper preserved in a drop of amber

The Dominican Republic lies about 1280 kilometres southeast of Florida. I remember thinking that I had found paradise when I arrived there. Calm breezes, beaches with fine sand and crystal blue water, and truly lovely people surrounded me. I fell in love with this country, and I returned every chance I got.

On one of these trips, I decided to go to the mountains with a group of friends. We had spent three weeks diving in different parts of the country, and we thought it would be fun to get out of the water for a change.Amber.

The mountains of the Dominican Republic are famous for their amber mines. You may have seen amber in pieces of jewellery or at museums. It is a clear, orange-yellow substance that comes from tree sap or resin.

When the resin hardens and becomes buried in the Earth's crust, it sometimes preserves the tiniest forms of prehistoric life. On the day of my visit to the amber mine, one of the miners showed me such a piece of amber. There, inside this fiery stone, was a perfect, ancient insect.

Seeing the insect was almost like looking at a photograph taken 23 million years ago. This perfectly preserved little creature represented an entire world captured inside a single piece of amber. The very thought amazed me, and I was hooked.

Primitive termiteNymph of a rare praying mantis

I began reading everything I could get my hands on about amber. I returned to the mines countless times, looking through the thousands of pieces of amber the miners had found for ones with insects inside them. I would buy the best ones and sell them, usually to museums. Looking back, I probably lost more money than I made! But finding those special pieces is what mattered most to me.Learning From Fossils. After a while, I became quite a good amateur entomologist, or person who studies insects. I began to recognize the different species of insects in the amber and to know which ones would be important to scientists. Over the years, I have provided many museums and universities with amber fossils. I have even found three of the six known examples of butterflies preserved in amber. The museum scientists study these fossils and are able to piece together what life was like

millions of years ago. I love that I can play a part in that incredible learning process! Though my introduction to fossils began with the tiniest of creatures, I soon moved on to

bigger life forms--much bigger life forms. While working with amber, I met a man named Kirby Siber.Josefina whale fossil found in Atacama Desert, PeruKirby is a paleontologist, a scientist who studies fossils. He asked me to join him on a dig for whale fossils in Peru, a country on the west coast of South America.

We would be searching for fossils in a desert that had been the bottom of the ocean millions of years ago. The work would

combine my two loves: the ocean and fossils. How could I resist? I worked six winters in the deserts of Peru. Our group uncovered enormous whale

fossils, as well as fossils of seals and dolphins. And it was in Peru that I met the man who would introduce me to my next fossil adventure-- dinosaurs!Large inchworm moth. This specimen, with a wingspan of nearly three inches (7.5 cm), is the largest fossil lepidopteran in amber.Glossary. amber. A hard clear orange-yellow substance used for making ornaments. entomologist.   A person who studies insects. fossil. The remains of a prehistoric plant or animal that has been in the ground a long time and become hardened in rock. paleontologist. A scientist who studies fossils. resin. A sticky substance that comes from plants.

"You want me to die not having voted ?" she asked.

The Day Gogo Went to Voteby Elinor Batezat SisuluMy gogo is very, very old. When I ask her how old she is, she says, "I am older than this township. When I was born, there were no cars or airplanes."

When I come home from school, my mother and father are still at work, so Gogo takes care of me. Gogo calls me her little tail because I follow her everywhere. She lets me carry her beautiful blue cloth bag, in which she keeps her important things.

Sometimes she tells me to open it, and I find sweets inside. When my front teeth fell out, he put them in the bag. The next morning she told me to look inside. My teeth had disappeared! Instead there was a two-rand coin inside. I took the money and bought a pair of pink earrings.

Because she was born in the olden days, Gogo knows a lot of things that happened long ago. She tells me many stories that her gogo told her about how our ancestors lived before the white people came. She also tells me about the place where our family came from and how we are all related to each other.

One day my father and mother came home very excited because all the main political parties had agreed to the election dates for a new government. Father explained that April 26, 1994, would be a special voting day for old people and those who were very sick.

Everyone else would vote on April 27 and April 28. Those two days would be holidays, and people would not have to go to work. "Good, I will vote with the other old people on April 26," announced Gogo. We were all shocked when Gogo said this, because she never goes out of the yard.

She will not even go to church. The priest has to come to our house to pray with her. That is why we were so surprised when Gogo said she wanted to vote. "We cannot take you to vote on April 26 because we will be at work," said Father.

"Then I will vote with you on April 27," said Gogo. "How will you go to the polling booth?" Father asked Gogo. "The same way you will go there," replied Gogo. "But we are going by bus. We cannot have you travelling on a crowded bus! The buses

may be too full on that day, and we may have to walk." "Besides," said Mother, "there will be long lines of people at the polling station. You will

not be able to stand in the lines!" Mother and Father asked my uncles and aunts to help them try to tell Gogo she could not

go to vote. But Gogo refused to listen. "You want me to die not having voted?" she asked. Our neighbor Ma Mlambo came to the fence to ask why all the family was gathered at

our house. While Father and Mother were talking to her, I asked Gogo why she wanted to vote so much. Gogo told me, "Thembi, black people in South Africa have fought for many years for the right to vote. This is the first time we have a chance to vote for our own leaders, and it might be my last. That is why I must vote, no matter how many miles I have to walk, no matter how long I have to stand in line!"