Sugar House (9780991192519)

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Authors: Jean Scheffler
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Joe said to his brother.
    "OK. Mine's faster!" Frank replied.
    Circling around a second time, Joe saw his
parents sitting on a wooden bench watching the boys. They were
holding hands and smiling, enjoying their sons' good time. When the
ride was over, Joe helped his little brother down and walked over
to their parents.
    "I won! I won!" called Frank. "My deer beat
Joe's horse!"
    "What a fine rider you are, son. Now let's
see how you do on a live animal, shall we?" Ojciec replied. "Next
stop… the pony rides!" Walking down the stone path they passed many
families strolling about the grounds. Children ran through the
fields playing made up games and throwing balls in games of catch.
Nearing the small stable, Joe looked at a group of children hitting
balls on the ground with wooden bats. "Look Ojciec!" he said
pointing at the well-dressed group. "What are those children
playing?"
    "That's called croquet, Joe. You hit a ball
through those wire hoops and the first person to reach the peg
wins," he replied.
    Matka sat on a bench under the shade of a
large hickory tree while Ojciec took the boys into the stable. The
stable hand found a small pony for Frank, but when Ojciec lifted
him up to set him on the pony's back, Frank started to cry and said
he did not want to ride the "real horse."
    "Just one then," Ojciec told the stable man.
Joe picked out a tall, handsome chestnut pony, and his father gave
him a boost. The man led the pony around a small ring a couple of
times while he explained to Joe how to hold the reins and how to
steer the pony with his feet. Then he told Joe he could take the
pony out for a trail ride for an hour if he promised to follow the
rules.
    "Stay clear of the bike track and the
baseball diamonds, young man," the caretaker instructed.
    "Yes sir, I will," Joe said.
    Leaving Frank and his parents, Joe trotted
off to explore the park. Joe headed south, the pony leading him
along the shore of the river. He was on the Canadian side of the
island and could look out over the water and see Amherstburg. It
was much quieter here. Blue jays and cardinals sang in the trees as
his pony clip-clopped along the sandy coast. As it was September,
no swimmers had been brave enough to enter the water, and he had
the beach to himself. Joe's small animal was gentle and obedient,
and he had no trouble directing her toward the lighthouse that
loomed ahead. The tower stood over forty feet in height and was
flanked on one side by the light keeper's house. Joe steered the
pony into a field of cornstalks and traveled down one of the rows
to the bottom of the tower.
    "Hey, you!" Joe heard a voice shouting at
him. "Hey, you! You can't bring that animal over here!"
    Joe turned toward the angry voice and saw a
young boy marching toward him. Dismounting from the pony, Joe faced
the hostile youth.
    "Gee, kid. I'm sorry. Didn't mean anything by
it. Didn't hurt anything either. I'll take off. Just wanted to take
a look at the lighthouse is all,"
    The boy neared. "That's our garden you just
rode through, dummy. We don't need a bunch of pony dung fouling up
our vegetables."
    "OK, I said sorry. You don't have to have a
fit. Here, I'll give you my best marble if you don't tell no one I
was here," Joe said and reached into his right pants pocket for one
of the glass marbles he always carried. Palming a green one, he
reached out to hand it to the boy.
    "Wow, that's a nice one. You sure?"
    "Yeah, don't want any trouble, and didn't
mean to cause any. Now take it and I'll leave," Joe replied.
    "Gee, thanks. Sorry I yelled at you. I just
get tired of people running around here like they own the place.
I'm not supposed to say anything, but by the end of the summer it
really wears on me. Name's Jimmy Hackett. My dad runs the
lighthouse and me and my ma live here."
    "I'm Joe. Do you live here all year long?
Don't you get lonesome in the winter?"
    "No, still gotta go to school. Take our boat
over to Amherstburg in the mornings and back again after. When

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