Twister on Tuesday
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
Dear Readers,
After I finished Magic Tree House® #22, Revolutionary War on Wednesday, I decided I wanted to write about pioneer times on the prairie frontier. As I always do, I went to the library for research. I read many nonfiction books about prairie pioneers. One day, I found a collection of true stories about women who had lived on the Kansas frontier in the late 1800s. When I read a passage about a tornado roaring toward a prairie schoolhouse, I got very excited. I’d always wanted to write about a tornado—and I’d been thinking about setting my new book in a prairie schoolhouse! Now I could combine these two ideas—and be true to real life.
I hope you’ll enjoy your journey with Jack and Annie to the Kansas frontier. But when the wind starts to blow—watch out!
All my best,
Text copyright © 2001 by Mary Pope Osborne
Illustrations copyright © 2001 by Sal Murdocca
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
www.randomhouse.com/magictreehouse
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Osborne, Mary Pope.
Twister on Tuesday / by Mary Pope Osborne ;
illustrated by Sal Murdocca.
p. cm. — (Magic tree house ; #23) “A Stepping stone book.”
SUMMARY: When Jack and Annie travel back to the Kansas prairie in search of “something to learn,” they gain an understanding of how hard life was for pioneers and they experience the terror of a tornado.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89480-0
[1. Time travel—Fiction. 2. Frontier and pioneer life—Kansas—Fiction. 3. Tornadoes—Fiction. 4. Kansas—Fiction. 5. Magic—Fiction. 6. Tree houses—Fiction.] I. Murdocca, Sal, ill. II. Title. PZ7.O81167 Tw 2001 [Fic]—dc21 00-044535
Random House, Inc. New York, Toronto, London, Sydney, Auckland
RANDOM HOUSE and colophon are registered trademarks and A STEPPING STONE BOOK and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc. MAGIC TREE HOUSE is a registered trademark of Mary Pope Osborne; used under license.
v3.0
Cover
Dear Readers
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
1. Tuesday!
2. Signs of Life
3. One-Room Schoolhouse
4. Reading Lesson
5. Bully
6. Grasshopper Attack?
7. Twister!
8. Get Below!
9. All Clear
10. The Third Writing
More Facts
Special Preview of Magic Tree House #24: Earthquake in Early Morning
For Peter Boyce,
who likes to read about twisters
One summer day in Frog Creek, Pennsylvania, a mysterious tree house appeared in the woods.
Eight-year-old Jack and his seven-year-old sister, Annie, climbed into the tree house. They found that it was filled with books.
Jack and Annie soon discovered that the tree house was magic. It could take them to the places in the books. All they had to do was point to a picture and wish to go there.
Along the way, Jack and Annie discovered that the tree house belongs to Morgan le Fay. Morgan is a magical librarian from Camelot, the long-ago kingdom of King Arthur. She travels through time and space, gathering books.
In Magic Tree House Books #5–8, Jack and Annie helped free Morgan from a spell. In Books #9–12, they solved four ancient riddles and became Master Librarians.
In Magic Tree House Books #13–16, Jack and Annie had to save four ancient stories from being lost forever.
In Magic Tree House Books #17–20, Jack and Annie freed a mysterious little dog from a magic spell.
In Magic Tree House Books #21–24, Jack and Annie have a new challenge. They must find four special kinds of writing for Morgan’s library to help save Camelot. They are about to set off to find the third of these.…
Jack opened his eyes. Sunlight streamed through his window.
“Tuesday!” he whispered. Morgan’s note had told him and Annie to come back to the magic tree house on Tuesday. He could hardly wait to find out where she was sending them today!
Jack scrambled out of bed. He threw on his clothes. He packed his notebook and pencil into his backpack. Then he headed into the hall.
Jack bumped into Annie. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.
“Tuesday!” they both whispered.
Together, they hurried down the stairs.
“Mom, Dad, we’re going out for a few minutes!” Jack shouted.
“Don’t you want breakfast first?” his dad called from the kitchen.
“When we get back!” sa
id Annie.
They rushed out the front door. They ran down their street in the bright summer sunlight.
A warm wind gently shook the trees as Jack and Annie headed into the Frog Creek woods. Soon they came to the tallest tree in the woods. The magic tree house waited for them in the high branches. Jack and Annie grabbed the rope ladder and climbed up.
Inside the shady tree house, the note from Morgan was still on the floor:
Dear Jack and Annie,
Camelot is in trouble. To save the kingdom, please find these four special kinds of writing for my library:
Something to follow
Something to send
Something to learn
Something to lend
Thank you,
Morgan
“Okay,” said Jack. “We have the first writing: something to follow.” He picked up a list from the Civil War.
“And we have the second,” said Annie, “something to send.” She picked up a letter from the Revolutionary War.
“Now we need the third,” said Jack, “something to learn.”
“No problem,” said Annie. She grabbed a book lying in the corner. “I hope we’re not going to another war.”
Jack and Annie looked at the cover. It showed a field of tall green grass.
The title was Life on the Prairie.
“The prairie?” said Annie. “We already went to the prairie the time we met Black Hawk.”
“Yeah,” said Jack, remembering their adventure with the Native American boy.
He opened the book and turned to a picture of an old-fashioned train crossing the prairie.
“Oh,” he said. “I get it. Trains crossed the prairie after the pioneers came. When we went to the prairie before, Native Americans were the only people who lived there.”
“So we must be going to pioneer time,” said Annie.
“I think so,” said Jack.
He pointed at the picture that showed the train crossing the prairie.
“I wish we could go there,” he said.
The breeze picked up.
The wind started to blow.
The tree house started to spin.
It spun faster and faster.
Then everything was still.
Absolutely still.
Jack opened his eyes.
He was wearing pants with suspenders and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. In place of his backpack was a leather bag.
Annie was wearing a long dress and a sunbonnet.
“I like my hat,” she said. “It’ll keep the sun off my face.”
“Yeah, except the sun’s not shining,” said Jack.
He and Annie looked out the window.
The sky was cloudy.
The tree house had landed in a small grove of trees near a creek. Beyond the trees was a wide, open prairie. Green grass and wildflowers swayed in a chilly wind.
In the distance, a train puffed across the prairie. Sparks of fire came out of its smokestack. Huge clouds of black smoke billowed into the gray sky.
“Wow,” said Jack.
He looked at the picture of the train in their book and read:
After the Civil War, the U.S. government built railroads to link the eastern and western parts of the country. By the 1870s, steam engines carried people across the Kansas prairie.
Jack pulled out his notebook and wrote:
“Let’s get going,” said Annie. “We have to find that special writing for Morgan.”
She started down the ladder.
Jack packed his things in his leather bag and climbed down after her.
When he stepped onto the ground, Jack looked toward the west.
The train was gone. Only a thin trail of smoke floated across the sky.
“That train was cool,” said Jack.
“Yeah, and so is that,” said Annie. She pointed in the other direction.
Far away, in the distance, a line of covered wagons rolled through the rippling grass. Their white coverings billowed in the breeze.
Jack pulled out the research book. He found a picture of the wagon train. He read aloud:
Wagons were the most common way for families to travel west. They could carry clothes, tools, food, and water. A line of wagons was called a “wagon train.” The white cloth coverings over the wagons also made them look like sailing ships, or schooners. For this reason, covered wagons were sometimes called “prairie schooners.”
Jack looked at the wagons again. They did look like ships sailing across a rippling green sea.
He wrote in his notebook:
“Let’s get a closer look,” said Annie.
She took off across the grass.
Jack put away his things and ran after her. As they ran, the wind began to blow harder. The clouds overhead grew darker.
“Wait—wait!” Jack finally called to Annie. “We’ll never catch up to it!”
They both stopped running. Panting, they watched the wagon train vanish over the horizon.
Jack took a deep breath.
“What now?” he said.
They looked around.
All Jack could see was the distant grove of trees with the tree house.
With the train and wagon train gone, there were no signs of life anywhere—no pioneer cabins, no Native American tepees.
“How can we find the special writing?” said Jack. “There’s nothing out here.”
“Oh yeah?” said Annie. “What’s that?”
She pointed to a rusty pipe sticking out from the top of a small hill.
Streaming from the pipe was a column of black smoke.
“Oh, man,” said Jack, “that’s definitely a sign of life.”
“Let’s check it out,” said Annie.
She and Jack walked up the little hill. At the top, they saw that the rusty pipe was rising out of a wooden roof.
They walked around to the other side of the hill.
Beneath the wooden roof was a door. The door seemed to open into the hill itself.
“What is this?” said Annie.
“Let’s find out,” said Jack.
He studied their research book until he found a black-and-white photograph. The photograph showed the same hill with the door.
Jack read aloud:
Since the prairie did not have many trees, wood was hard to find. So pioneers often made their houses out of sod bricks, which were blocks of earth cut out of the prairie. Sometimes a sod house was dug out of the side of a hill. It was called a “dugout.”
Jack pulled out his notebook. He wrote:
Then Jack read more to Annie:
Tornados, or twisters, are common on the prairie, so many dugouts had storm cellars. A storm cellar was like a rough basement below the ground. During a twister, a storm cellar is the safest place to be.
“Wow, maybe we’ll see a twister,” said Annie.
“I hope not,” said Jack. Then he read on:
A pioneer family built this dugout for a home. When they moved, the dugout became a schoolhouse. The schoolhouse had only one room. It also had a storm cellar beneath it.
Jack quickly wrote:
“Hey! This is the place!” said Annie.
Jack looked up from his writing.
“What place?” he asked.
“Where’s the best place to find our special writing—something to learn?” asked Annie.
Jack smiled.
“A school,” he said.
Annie ran to the wooden door and knocked loudly.
A moment later, the door creaked open. A girl peeked out. Her hair was in a tight bun, as if she were a grownup. But she didn’t look more than sixteen or seventeen years old.
“Hi, I’m Annie,” said Annie. “This is my brother, Jack.”
The girl opened the door wider.
“Hello, Jack and Annie,” she said. “I’m your teacher, Miss Neely.”
“You’re the teacher?” said Jack. Miss Neely seemed way too young to be a teacher.
“Yes!” she said,
smiling. “Come in. You’re late.”
It was warm and dry inside the schoolhouse. Several oil lamps lit the darkness.
“Class, meet Annie and Jack,” the young teacher said.
What class? thought Jack.
There were only three kids.
On one bench sat a small boy and a girl. The boy looked about Annie’s age. The girl looked a little younger. On another bench sat a tall boy. He was tough-looking.
“Welcome to our first day of school,” said the young teacher.
“Today’s your very first day?” said Annie.
“Yes, and our first day in this dugout. The family who lived here left for California a week ago,” said Miss Neely.
Jack and Annie peered around the room. The walls were made of dirt. The floor was made of wood. It was covered by a worn rug.
Miss Neely’s desk was made from a barrel. A small coal stove was near her desk. A crate held a water jug, chalk, and two small blackboards.
“It’s a nice school,” Annie said politely.
“Thank you. We’re very grateful for it,” said Miss Neely. “And where do you live?”
“Well, we actually … ,” Jack started. Then he stopped—he wasn’t sure what to say.
“Actually, we don’t live around here,” Annie said. “We’re passing through.”
“You must be from the wagon train I saw this morning,” Miss Neely said.
Annie nodded.
Jack smiled.
Good work, Annie, he thought.
“We can only stay a little while,” he said.
“How exciting for you,” said Miss Neely. “Heading west on a wagon train. Where are you going?”