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Authors: Bonnie Bryant
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moved up the coast and will be passing through New York. I want you to wear your raincoats, and you might want to bring warm sweaters.”
Half an hour later the class met again in the lobby. They were wearing slickers and sweaters and were toting umbrellas. They looked as if they were ready for a gale. Since it wasn’t raining yet, other hotel guests smiled at them with amusement.
“Today we’re going to see an exhibit on the history ofCentral Park,” Mrs. Martin said. “I want you to see if you can connect your object with the history of the park. I think most of you will find that you can. Some of you do not yet have an object.” She looked significantly at Stevie. “This is your last chance.”
Stevie resolved that she would find the best, most educational object on earth.
As they entered Central Park, the sky turned gray and heavy. Stevie shivered, remembering how cold it could get this time of year.
“Do you have an idea for your object?” Ms. Dodge asked Stevie.
“Sure,” Stevie said. “I’m loaded with ideas. Choosing is the hard part.”
Ms. Dodge looked at her reproachfully. “You haven’t narrowed it down at all, have you?”
“No,” said Stevie.
“I can’t believe that there isn’t anything in New York City that’s caught your fancy,” Ms. Dodge said.
“Yeah,” Stevie said, digging her hands into the pocket of her slicker. “It’s just that I don’t like museums.”
“You don’t give them a chance,” said Ms. Dodge.
Stevie knew this was true.
As the class entered the exhibit on the history of Central Park, which was at the Dairy, Stevie resolved to really look and really care. She saw pictures of the way the park looked before it was a park. It had been aswampy dump, dotted with pig farms, slaughterhouses, and shantytowns. In those days the area was famous for its terrible smell. Later it was turned into a new kind of park—not a place with flower beds and formal walks, but a place where people could ramble and roam.
The rest of the class was madly taking notes. But the words
ramble and roam
stuck in Stevie’s mind. She wasn’t going to ramble and roam, of course, but she felt that old itch.
Stevie came to an exhibit about the carousel. It was built in 1908. She knew that! The horses were made of basswood, which was soft and easy to carve. There was a picture of the carousel with Ralph in the center, his coat gleaming black.
Stevie thought of Ralph spending all those years in the carousel with the seasons passing and new kids coming to ride him every year. Ralph wasn’t a living thing, of course, but she felt as if he were. She wanted to see Ralph one more time and say good-bye. She knew that they were very close to the carousel.
But she wasn’t going to do that. It was wrong, and it was dangerous.
Ms. Dodge came over to Stevie. “You look like you’re really interested in something,” she said.
“It’s the carousel,” Stevie said.
Ms. Dodge read an exhibit label, “ ‘The carousel was made at the turn of the century by the Artistic CarouselCompany in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.’ ” She turned to Stevie. “It’s amazing the horses have lasted so well.”
“See that one?” said Stevie, pointing to Ralph. She wanted more than anything to tell Ms. Dodge about Ralph and what a great horse he was. But she couldn’t do that. “I think he looks great,” Stevie said.
“You really do love horses,” Ms. Dodge said. “It’s too bad you’ve never actually seen him. Otherwise that horse would make a perfect topic for your paper.”
“For real?” said Stevie.
“He was made at the turn of the century,” Ms. Dodge said. “And he seems to be of special interest to you.”
“Ho boy,” Stevie said. “Just my luck. There’s an object that would have been perfect for me, and I never saw it.”
“I’m sorry, Stevie,” Ms. Dodge said. “It’s too bad.”
When all the note-taking was done, the class gathered near the door. Stevie spotted a
Half an hour later the class met again in the lobby. They were wearing slickers and sweaters and were toting umbrellas. They looked as if they were ready for a gale. Since it wasn’t raining yet, other hotel guests smiled at them with amusement.
“Today we’re going to see an exhibit on the history ofCentral Park,” Mrs. Martin said. “I want you to see if you can connect your object with the history of the park. I think most of you will find that you can. Some of you do not yet have an object.” She looked significantly at Stevie. “This is your last chance.”
Stevie resolved that she would find the best, most educational object on earth.
As they entered Central Park, the sky turned gray and heavy. Stevie shivered, remembering how cold it could get this time of year.
“Do you have an idea for your object?” Ms. Dodge asked Stevie.
“Sure,” Stevie said. “I’m loaded with ideas. Choosing is the hard part.”
Ms. Dodge looked at her reproachfully. “You haven’t narrowed it down at all, have you?”
“No,” said Stevie.
“I can’t believe that there isn’t anything in New York City that’s caught your fancy,” Ms. Dodge said.
“Yeah,” Stevie said, digging her hands into the pocket of her slicker. “It’s just that I don’t like museums.”
“You don’t give them a chance,” said Ms. Dodge.
Stevie knew this was true.
As the class entered the exhibit on the history of Central Park, which was at the Dairy, Stevie resolved to really look and really care. She saw pictures of the way the park looked before it was a park. It had been aswampy dump, dotted with pig farms, slaughterhouses, and shantytowns. In those days the area was famous for its terrible smell. Later it was turned into a new kind of park—not a place with flower beds and formal walks, but a place where people could ramble and roam.
The rest of the class was madly taking notes. But the words
ramble and roam
stuck in Stevie’s mind. She wasn’t going to ramble and roam, of course, but she felt that old itch.
Stevie came to an exhibit about the carousel. It was built in 1908. She knew that! The horses were made of basswood, which was soft and easy to carve. There was a picture of the carousel with Ralph in the center, his coat gleaming black.
Stevie thought of Ralph spending all those years in the carousel with the seasons passing and new kids coming to ride him every year. Ralph wasn’t a living thing, of course, but she felt as if he were. She wanted to see Ralph one more time and say good-bye. She knew that they were very close to the carousel.
But she wasn’t going to do that. It was wrong, and it was dangerous.
Ms. Dodge came over to Stevie. “You look like you’re really interested in something,” she said.
“It’s the carousel,” Stevie said.
Ms. Dodge read an exhibit label, “ ‘The carousel was made at the turn of the century by the Artistic CarouselCompany in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.’ ” She turned to Stevie. “It’s amazing the horses have lasted so well.”
“See that one?” said Stevie, pointing to Ralph. She wanted more than anything to tell Ms. Dodge about Ralph and what a great horse he was. But she couldn’t do that. “I think he looks great,” Stevie said.
“You really do love horses,” Ms. Dodge said. “It’s too bad you’ve never actually seen him. Otherwise that horse would make a perfect topic for your paper.”
“For real?” said Stevie.
“He was made at the turn of the century,” Ms. Dodge said. “And he seems to be of special interest to you.”
“Ho boy,” Stevie said. “Just my luck. There’s an object that would have been perfect for me, and I never saw it.”
“I’m sorry, Stevie,” Ms. Dodge said. “It’s too bad.”
When all the note-taking was done, the class gathered near the door. Stevie spotted a
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