Leprechaun in Late Winter Read online

  Here’s what kids have to say to

  Mary Pope Osborne, author of

  the Magic Tree House series:

  WOW! You have an imagination like no other.—Adam W.

  I love your books. If you stop writing books, it will be like losing a best friend.—Ben M.

  I think you are the real Morgan le Fay. There is always magic in your books.—Erica Y.

  One day I was really bored and I didn’t want to read … I looked in your book. I read a sentence, and it was interesting. So I read some more, until the book was done. It was so good I read more and more. Then I had read all of your books, and now I hope you write lots more.—Danai K.

  I always read [your books] over and over … 1 time, 2 times, 3 times, 4 times … —Yuan C.

  You are my best author in the world. I love your books. I read all the time. I read everywhere. My mom is like freaking out.—Ellen C.

  I hope you make these books for all yours and mine’s life.—Riki H.

  Teachers and librarians love

  Magic Tree House® books, too!

  Thank you for opening faraway places and times to my class through your books. They have given me the chance to bring in additional books, materials, and videos to share with the class.—J. Cameron

  It excites me to see how involved [my fourth-grade reading class] is in your books … I would do anything to get my students more involved, and this has done it.—C. Rutz

  I discovered your books last year … WOW! Our students have gone crazy over them. I can’t order enough copies! … Thanks for contributing so much to children’s literature!—C. Kendziora

  I first came across your Magic Tree House series when my son brought one home … I have since introduced this great series to my class. They have absolutely fallen in love with these books! … My students are now asking me for more independent reading time to read them. Your stories have inspired even my most struggling readers.—M. Payne

  I love how I can go beyond the [Magic Tree House] books and use them as springboards for other learning.—R. Gale

  We have enjoyed your books all year long. We check your Web site to find new information. We pull our map down to find the areas where the adventures take place. My class always chimes in at key parts of the story. It feels good to hear my students ask for a book and cheer when a new book comes out.—J. Korinek

  Our students have “Magic Tree House fever.” I can’t keep your books on the library shelf.—J. Rafferty

  Your books truly invite children into the pleasure of reading. Thanks for such terrific work.—S. Smith

  The children in the fourth grade even hide the [Magic Tree House] books in the library so that they will be able to find them when they are ready to check them out.—K. Mortensen

  My Magic Tree House books are never on the bookshelf because they are always being read by my students. Thank you for creating such a wonderful series.—K. Mahoney

  A few years ago I visited County Galway in Ireland. I traveled through seaside towns along the rocky coast and took a boat out to the lonely Aran Islands at the mouth of Galway Bay. I loved the lush green sheep meadows of the countryside, the smell of peat fires wafting through misty rain, the cozy pubs where we had gingerbread and strong tea. Ever since that visit, I’ve loved Irish music and literature—especially the folklore of leprechauns, fairies, and legendary Irish heroes and heroines.

  So now I want to share Ireland with you. Get ready for a journey to the enchanted countryside of Galway, to a time a hundred and fifty years ago, when mysterious creatures still hid in the forests and hills. Be careful not to let them see you, or you might be turned into a skunk or a weasel! But don’t be afraid—just have a great time with Jack and Annie.

  This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical and public figures, are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical or public figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2010 by Mary Pope Osborne

  Illustrations copyright © 2010 by Sal Murdocca

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc. Magic Tree House is a registered trademark of Mary Pope Osborne; used under license.

  Visit us on the Web!

  www.magictreehouse.com

  www.randomhouse.com/kids

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Osborne, Mary Pope.

  Leprechaun in late winter / by Mary Pope Osborne ; illustrated by Sal Murdocca — 1st ed.

  p. cm. — (Magic tree house ; #43)

  “A Merlin mission.”

  “A stepping stone book.”

  Summary: Jack and Annie travel back to nineteenth-century Ireland to inspire a young

  Augusta Gregory to share her love of Irish legends and folktales with the world.

  eISBN: 978-0-375-89466-4

  1. Time travel—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. Tree houses—Fiction.

  4. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 5. Gregory, Lady, 1852–1932—Fiction.

  6. Ireland—History—19th century—Fiction.

  I. Murdocca, Sal, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.O81167Le 2010 [Fic]—dc22 2009016591

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.0

  For Lillian Grogan Osborne Reynolds

  And with special thanks to Dan Ringuette

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dear Reader

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  1. A Beautiful Word

  2. The Big House

  3. Miss Augusta

  4. What Are You Good For?

  5. A Fireside Tale

  6. A Late–Winter’s Daydream

  7. Willy

  8. The Hollow Hill

  9. Skunks or Weasels?

  10. Fare-thee-wells

  11. Lady Gregory

  More Facts from Jack and Annie

  “They can grow small or grow large. They can

  take what shape they choose.… They go by us in a

  cloud of dust; they are as many as the blades of

  grass. They are everywhere.”

  —from Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland

  by Lady Gregory

  One summer day in Frog Creek, Pennsylvania, a mysterious tree house appeared in the woods. A brother and sister named Jack and Annie soon learned that the tree house was magic—it could take them to any time and any place in history. They also learned that the tree house belonged to Morgan le Fay, a magical librarian from the legendary realm of Camelot.

  After Jack and Annie traveled on many adventures for Morgan, Merlin the magician began sending them on “Merlin Missions” in the tree house. With help from two young sorcerers named Teddy and Kathleen, Jack and Annie traveled to places both mythical and real to do Merlin’s bidding.

  On their most recent missions, Jack and Annie found four secrets of happiness to help Merlin when he was in trouble.

  Now Merlin wants Jack and Annie to bring happiness to others—by helping four creative peo
ple give their special gifts to the world. They have already helped the first two; now they are ready to find the third.…

  It was a chilly afternoon in late winter. Annie was doing her homework on the computer in the living room. Jack sat on the couch and stared at a blank page in his small notebook. He heaved a sigh.

  “What’s wrong?” said Annie.

  “I have to write a story for school,” said Jack, “and I’m stuck.”

  “Well, you’d better get unstuck,” said Annie. “Mom and Dad said we have to get our homework done before we go to the theater with them tonight.”

  “I know,” said Jack. “But I can’t think of anything to write about.”

  “Why don’t you do what you love to do?” said Annie. “Go outside and write down some facts about what you see. Then turn them into a story.”

  “Hey, that’s a good idea,” said Jack. “Thanks.” He jumped up and grabbed his coat from the hall closet. Then, taking his pencil and notebook with him, he headed outdoors.

  The early March weather was sunny but cold and windy. Jack looked around. Then he wrote down some facts in his notebook:

  old snow in yard

  sun sparkling on sidewalk

  Jack looked up again. Treetops swayed in the March winds. Jack started to write about them. But when he looked down at his notebook, he nearly dropped his pencil. On the page were two large, fancy letters:

  T K

  “Oh, man!” whispered Jack. He dashed back in the house and into the living room. “Annie! Look!” Jack held up his notebook. “Look at this!”

  Annie stared at the page. “Old snow … sun sparkling … Nice.…”

  “No, not that!” said Jack. “The letters!”

  Annie looked at Jack like he was a little crazy. “Uh … what letters?” she said.

  Jack looked back at the page. “They’re gone!” he said. “A big, fancy T and K!”

  “T and K?” said Annie.

  “Yes! For Teddy and Kathleen!” said Jack. “The letters just appeared on the page when I was outside! They were there! Really!”

  “I believe you,” said Annie. She jumped up from the computer. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait, I have to get my backpack from upstairs,” said Jack.

  “Forget it! Come on! The tree house must be waiting for us!” said Annie.

  “Okay, okay,” said Jack. He quickly shoved his notebook and pencil into a pocket of his coat.

  Annie grabbed her jacket. “Mom! Dad! We’re going to take a little break from our homework!” she called.

  “Okay, but make it short! We have to leave for the theater by seven!” their dad called from the kitchen.

  “We will!” said Jack.

  Jack and Annie headed outside. They ran over the melting snow in their front yard and up the sun-sparkling sidewalk. They charged across the street and into the Frog Creek woods. They hurried between the windblown trees until they came to the tallest oak.

  High in the branches was the magic tree house. Their friends from Camelot, Teddy and Kathleen, were looking out the window.

  “Hello!” called Kathleen.

  “Hi!” shouted Annie, waving.

  “Good trick with the magic letters!” Jack called.

  “We thought you’d like that!” said Teddy. “I just learned how to do it!”

  Annie grabbed the rope ladder and started up. Jack followed her. They climbed into the tree house and hugged the young enchanters.

  “So what’s up today?” asked Jack.

  “Where does Merlin want us to go now?” asked Annie.

  “Merlin wants you to go to Galway, Ireland,” said Kathleen.

  “Ireland? Cool!” said Annie.

  “Morgan sent us to Ireland once before—to the ninth century,” said Jack.

  “Yes. Well, this time you will go to Ireland in the nineteenth century,” said Teddy. “To 1862, to be exact. Your mission is to find an imaginative and creative girl named Augusta.”

  “Augusta doesn’t know yet what her talents are,” said Kathleen. “She lives in a time when it is not easy for girls to explore their creativity. Your mission will be to inspire her, so she can give her gifts to the world.”

  “What does that word mean exactly?” asked Annie. “Inspire?”

  “’tis a beautiful word,” said Kathleen, her sea-blue eyes 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 the drizzle, 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 t
he 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 tired, rugged face pointed back up the hill.

  “Thanks!” said Jack.

  The large wooden wheels of the wagon rumbled past, splashing Jack and Annie with mud.

  “Yuck!” said Annie.

  “Now we’re cold and wet and dirty,” said Jack.

  “Yeah, we’re going to look great when we get to the Big House,” said Annie.

  “So what do we do when we get there?” asked Jack.

  “When we find Augusta, maybe we tell her that Teddy and Kathleen sent us,” said Annie, “like we told Louis Armstrong in New Orleans.”

  Just thinking about their adventure with Louis Armstrong made Jack smile. “I don’t know if that will work,” he said. “His world seemed so different from this world. There it was so noisy and busy. Here it feels lonely.”

  “Well, we won’t know until we find Augusta,” said Annie. “Let’s go.”

  Jack and Annie lowered their heads. They plodded up the lane, sloshing in and out of giant puddles. When they reached the top of the hill, they stopped. The muddy lane wound down, past more sheep meadows and some cottages, past a long stable and several barns.

  At the end of the lane was a large open gate that led onto the grounds of a white mansion. Gray smoke rose from the mansion’s chimneys.