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Authors: Mary Pope Osborne
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shining. “It means to breathe life into a person’s heart, to make her feel joyful to be alive.”
“That
is
beautiful,” said Annie.
“You may need some magic to help you,” said Teddy. From the corner of the tree house, he picked up the magic trumpet that had helped them on their last journey. “Only this time …”
Teddy handed the trumpet to Kathleen. She held the shiny brass instrument for a moment. Then she tossed it into the air. The trumpet spun like a whirlwind. There was a flash of blue light—and the trumpet was gone! In its place was a thin silver pipe with six holes.
“What’s that?” breathed Jack.
“An Irish whistle,” said Kathleen. She plucked the instrument from the air. “When you face great danger, one of you must play it. It will make magical music. And anything the other one sings will come true.”
“But remember,” said Teddy, “its magic will work only once.”
“Right,” said Annie.
“Thanks,” said Jack. He took the Irish whistle from Kathleen and put it into his pocket. “And did Morgan send a research book to give us information?”
“Not this time,” said Teddy. “Morgan wants you to draw upon your own experiences in life to help you on this journey.”
“No problem,” said Annie.
Jack wasn’t sure about that. He liked having a book of facts to help them.
“So how do we find Augusta?” said Annie.
“It should be easy to find her,” said Teddy. “When you land in the county of Galway, Ireland, just ask anyone for directions to the Big House.”
“Hold on.” Jack pulled out his notebook and wrote:
County of Galway, Ireland
Augusta
Big House
“Got it,” said Jack. “But how do we get to Ireland in the first place if we don’t have a research book?”
“Point to the notes you just made and make your wish,” said Kathleen.
“And when you are ready to come home,” said Teddy, “use the Pennsylvania book as you usually do.”
“Got it,” said Jack.
“Go now, and help Augusta,” said Kathleen. “She needs you.”
Jack pointed to the words
Galway, Ireland
in his notebook. “I wish we could go there!” he said.
“Bye!” Annie said to Teddy and Kathleen.
“Farewell!” said Kathleen.
“Good luck!” said Teddy.
The wind started to blow.
The tree house started to spin.
It spun faster and faster.
Then everything was still.
Absolutely still.
A cold wind blew rain into the tree house. Jack shivered. He was wearing an old overcoat and ragged trousers. Annie wore a scarf, a shawl, and a long red wool dress. They both wore scuffed, worn boots.
“So where are we?” said Jack. He and Annie looked out the window.
The tree house had landed in a tree at the edge of a green meadow dotted with woolly white sheep. Next to the meadow was a narrow lane. It ran uphill between low stone walls. Through thedrizzle, Jack could see mist-covered mountains in the distance and a flash of silver sea.
“It looks like a scene in a fairy tale,” said Annie.
“Yeah, a fairy tale with bad weather,” said Jack.
“I wonder where the Big House is,” said Annie.
“I don’t know, but I’d like to get inside it now,” said Jack.
“Me too,” said Annie, shivering. “Let’s go.”
Jack crammed his cold hands into the pockets of his torn coat. In one pocket, he felt his notebook and pencil. In the other, he felt the Irish whistle. “I’ve got the whistle,” he said.
“Good,” said Annie. She held her red skirt and started down the rope ladder. Jack climbed down after her.
Annie pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders. Jack turned up the collar of his coat. As they tramped through the wet meadow, he felt cold water seeping through holes in his boots.
Jack and Annie climbed over a stone wall onto the muddy lane. A horse-drawn wagon was rattling toward them down the hill. The wagon was filled with squealing pigs.
“Excuse me!” Annie called to the driver. “Can you tell us where the Big House is?”
An old man with a
“That
is
beautiful,” said Annie.
“You may need some magic to help you,” said Teddy. From the corner of the tree house, he picked up the magic trumpet that had helped them on their last journey. “Only this time …”
Teddy handed the trumpet to Kathleen. She held the shiny brass instrument for a moment. Then she tossed it into the air. The trumpet spun like a whirlwind. There was a flash of blue light—and the trumpet was gone! In its place was a thin silver pipe with six holes.
“What’s that?” breathed Jack.
“An Irish whistle,” said Kathleen. She plucked the instrument from the air. “When you face great danger, one of you must play it. It will make magical music. And anything the other one sings will come true.”
“But remember,” said Teddy, “its magic will work only once.”
“Right,” said Annie.
“Thanks,” said Jack. He took the Irish whistle from Kathleen and put it into his pocket. “And did Morgan send a research book to give us information?”
“Not this time,” said Teddy. “Morgan wants you to draw upon your own experiences in life to help you on this journey.”
“No problem,” said Annie.
Jack wasn’t sure about that. He liked having a book of facts to help them.
“So how do we find Augusta?” said Annie.
“It should be easy to find her,” said Teddy. “When you land in the county of Galway, Ireland, just ask anyone for directions to the Big House.”
“Hold on.” Jack pulled out his notebook and wrote:
County of Galway, Ireland
Augusta
Big House
“Got it,” said Jack. “But how do we get to Ireland in the first place if we don’t have a research book?”
“Point to the notes you just made and make your wish,” said Kathleen.
“And when you are ready to come home,” said Teddy, “use the Pennsylvania book as you usually do.”
“Got it,” said Jack.
“Go now, and help Augusta,” said Kathleen. “She needs you.”
Jack pointed to the words
Galway, Ireland
in his notebook. “I wish we could go there!” he said.
“Bye!” Annie said to Teddy and Kathleen.
“Farewell!” said Kathleen.
“Good luck!” said Teddy.
The wind started to blow.
The tree house started to spin.
It spun faster and faster.
Then everything was still.
Absolutely still.
A cold wind blew rain into the tree house. Jack shivered. He was wearing an old overcoat and ragged trousers. Annie wore a scarf, a shawl, and a long red wool dress. They both wore scuffed, worn boots.
“So where are we?” said Jack. He and Annie looked out the window.
The tree house had landed in a tree at the edge of a green meadow dotted with woolly white sheep. Next to the meadow was a narrow lane. It ran uphill between low stone walls. Through thedrizzle, Jack could see mist-covered mountains in the distance and a flash of silver sea.
“It looks like a scene in a fairy tale,” said Annie.
“Yeah, a fairy tale with bad weather,” said Jack.
“I wonder where the Big House is,” said Annie.
“I don’t know, but I’d like to get inside it now,” said Jack.
“Me too,” said Annie, shivering. “Let’s go.”
Jack crammed his cold hands into the pockets of his torn coat. In one pocket, he felt his notebook and pencil. In the other, he felt the Irish whistle. “I’ve got the whistle,” he said.
“Good,” said Annie. She held her red skirt and started down the rope ladder. Jack climbed down after her.
Annie pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders. Jack turned up the collar of his coat. As they tramped through the wet meadow, he felt cold water seeping through holes in his boots.
Jack and Annie climbed over a stone wall onto the muddy lane. A horse-drawn wagon was rattling toward them down the hill. The wagon was filled with squealing pigs.
“Excuse me!” Annie called to the driver. “Can you tell us where the Big House is?”
An old man with a
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