Indholdsfortegnelse for September 2021 i Cricket Magazine Fiction and Non-Fiction Stories for Children and Young Teens

“Back to School” cut paper, pastel, and colored pencil As far back as I remember, my favorite activity was drawing. I was lucky to be encouraged by always having plenty of paper and pencils available. I made paper villages and paper dolls. I let my imagination wander. I have continued those early activities as I grew up. I still make whimsical paper houses and I still love to sit and sketch. I use cut paper for my illustrations. I add details with colored pencils and pastels. After many years in Atlanta, I moved to Cape Cod, where the winters are not as mild but being by the ocean makes up for it.…

TOLIN CRAWLED FORWARD, staying alert. All around, the dense, wiry thickets of the hedge were strangely silent. That usually meant danger, when the green tangle of thorns should be cheery with the songs of finches, the dusky clucking of hedge hens. On hands and knees, Tolin eased beneath low branches. He was able to stand up in a clearing. Walls of briar encircled it, and several natural tunnels came together. He would find plenty here to fill his rucksack—herbs, mushrooms, gooseberries . . . The hedge provided for those willing to come into its shady, secret world, where the stems curled like tunnel walls. The knobby roots made stairways, and pools of sunlight revealed treasures for the stewpot in a land where hunger always lurked. In Tolin’s village, even the…

The air we breathe is mainly a mixture of nitrogen (79%) and oxygen (20%), along with a small percentage of other gases such as carbon dioxide (.03%). Although all these gases are invisible, they differ in their chemical composition and characteristics—including weight. Here’s a simple experiment to prove that pure carbon dioxide is heavier than ordinary air. You can perform it as a magic act for your family! What You’ll Need: 1 heaping teaspoon baking soda 1 tablespoon vinegar 2 tall water glasses candle and matches or lighter What to Do: 1. Line up two empty water glasses on one side of candle. Ask an adult to light candle. 2. Lift middle glass—the one nearest the candle—and carefully tilt over flame, showing your audience that nothing happens. Put glass back…

“WHAT! SERIOUSLY?” “Settle down, Martin,” said Ms. Phelps as she poured herself a second mug of coffee that morning. She sat down at the kitchen table, gently blowing on the steam. “Aunt Maud is so excited about her visit and really looking forward to spending time with us. She told me yesterday on the phone her bags were already packed.” Martin groaned. There was only one thing he wanted to do over fall break, and that was play the latest game, Warlocks, with his best friends, Robert and Jiang. But now that his great-aunt Maud was in town, he doubted his mom would let him stay confined to his room all day just to—“Wait a minute,” he said, struck with a thought. “Where will she sleep?” He narrowed one eye…

“NOW WHERE HAS Trevor gone?” asked Dad. Fern shrugged. Keeping track of Trevor was not on her agenda today. She’d been trying to decide on the perfect gift for Dad’s upcoming birthday. “This year, he’d requested something that couldn’t be bought at a store or ordered online.” “Daddy!” Trevor appeared at the far end of the aisle. His yell scattered Fern’s thoughts. Holding a dented cereal box aloft, he said, “This is nutritious and delicious! And it has a dragon inside. Let’s get it!” Fern wasn’t surprised when their father nodded and her brother grinned, hugged the box, and yelled, “Thanks!” She noticed at least four other shoppers staring at Trevor. “Stop that!” Fern longed to say. “It’s not his fault he’s older and bigger than I am but acts…

ONCE, LONG AGO, there lived dragons. They were wild, these dragons, and scaly and scary, breathing fire at every living creature they met and then gobbling them up. Why? Because they were hungry, of course. “Could we feed them?” someone finally asked. A dragon that was full wouldn’t have to gobble people up! So a number of brave souls got busy finding out what dragons would eat. Naturally, mistakes were made. A dragon’s displeasure at being served cabbage, for example, was truly terrifying to behold. It finally turned out that what dragons really needed, what they really flourished on if fed twice a day forever, were cherries, especially the sweet, pink-gold cherries from the dragoncherry tree. This was wonderful. The dragons relaxed. They grew tame and became family dragons. A…

TOBY STOOD UP next to his desk. He wore a purple shirt that showed his tummy when he raised his arms. His face was ruddy and always looked like he had just rushed to wherever he was. He wiped his hands on his shorts and said, “Hi, I’m Toby.” Everyone said, “Hi, Toby.” His face matched Ms. Wilson’s red pen. “Toby, why don’t you come up to the front of the classroom?” Ms. Wilson perched on the corner of her desk. Toby stood still for a moment and then inched his way to the front of the class. He was new to the school, and the class watched him expectantly. “Toby, what would you like to share about your summer?” Ms. Wilson crossed her ankles and tapped her shoes together.…

DID YOU EVER hold a helium balloon on a string and feel it tug toward the sky? Have you ever let go and watched the balloon fly away, growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared? Why should a helium balloon behave this way? Helium is lighter than air. While Earth’s gravity pulls on everything, the Earth pulls harder on the air above the balloon than it does on the helium inside. When you let go of the string, gravity pulls this air downward, and the balloon is pushed upward by the sinking air. You’ve felt the same thing if you’ve tried to hold a hollow plastic ball under water. Gravity pulls harder on the water than on the lighter ball. If you let go, the ball zooms up through…

Her skin paper-thin, Grandma’s hand’s cradle mine. She waves, not remembering all the love she gave. Her hands know. She doesn’t always remember me when I’m there. Her hands do. Her hands that play with my hair or trail over my face. Those hands with their brittle bones and veins that lift my fingers to her lips for a soft, loving kiss. They recall what her mind can’t—a long life filled with happiness and tears. Years that show on her hands. Those hands that clapped and cooked and carried and caressed. That toiled and shook and folded and molded. That bled and read and prayed and played. Now they cling and wring, Press and squeeze. These hands struggle to convey what words can’t. We know. Her love is in her…

It’s true I fried a knight or two—I left them lightly toasted. But dragons’ caves are private homes—We all have warnings posted. We dragons are a peaceful lot—You’ll often find us dancing. Those knights should take up violin And stop with all this lancing. I’d never roast a blacksmith, Judge, I’d never grill a farmer. Those knights attacked my humble lair With swords and suits of armor. They came at me with weapons drawn To slice me full of gashes, So what was I supposed to do But burn them all to ashes? It’s clear that this was self-defense. You know the knights conspired. You’ve got to say I’m innocent—Or else you might be fired!…