Cricket Magazine Fiction and Non-Fiction Stories for Children and Young Teens September 2015

Hello Dear Reader, I have been an artist for as long as I can remember. As a child I was encouraged by my parents to explore loads of different ways to be creative—decoupage, quilting, ceramics, woodworking, paper mache, and of course, drawing and painting. I studied at the Massachusetts College of Art and Design and, after graduating, worked in the travel industry. I lived in Europe, South America, and the Caribbean, soaking up foreign cultures and starting my enormous postcard collection. I have worked as an illustrator for many years, creating art for hundreds of magazines and newspapers. My work has been recognized in American Illustration, 3x3, Print, and Communication Arts, and is part of the permanent collection of the Museum of Transportation in New York. I live with my…

Dear Everybuggy, I know that you have heard this a billion times, but your mag rocks! This is the first time I’ve written to you. My sister Claire has done it many times, though. I have eight sisters, two brothers, and one dog. Our dog’s name is Polly, and she is four years old. We are homeschooled, but my sister and I might go to Oak Grove School this year. I really want to go there! I play piano and I really want to play the violin. I do gymnastics and play tennis. My favorite subjects in school are reading and drawing. I am learning Italian; it is really hard. I auditioned for Ojai’s Got Talent with my friend, and we got in! I am both excited and nervous. One…

THAT TUESDAY STARTED out just like any other summer day. Mom dropped me off with Gram and Gramps just before seven so she could make her breakfast shift at the diner. The morning was already as steamy and sticky as hot caramel. My T-shirt was damp against my back, and my hair clung to my neck and temples like moss to a tree. For the millionth time I wished Gram and Gramps had air conditioning. But if I complained, Gram would just poke out her chin and say, “Nonsense to pay an arm and leg for something people have survived thousands of years without.” “I’m burning up,” I moaned, swiping the back of my hand over my slick forehead. Gram stood at the sink looking cool as a cucumber as…

The big book beckons: Come.We sneak three berries, a ripe word plum.Round and sweet, they roll off my tongue:obdurate, obfuscate, robust, bun. We wander the pages. Pick and pick.Paparazzi puckers my lips.I feed you scintillate, you give me snick,bonhomie, bamboozle, radiant, prig. We cram our cheeks with ominous, nosh.Chew on goober, fluky, and floss.Crunch through crucible, gobble muffed,swallow sibilant. Now we’re stuffed!…

LUCY LARCOM WAS once one of the most famous and beloved poets in America. Today she is best remembered for her autobiography, A New England Girlhood, which tells about her growing-up years as a mill girl, toiling in the dusty and noisy cotton mills of Lowell, Massachusetts. Lucy was born in 1824, in the peaceful seaside village of Beverly, Massachusetts. She was the ninth of her family’s ten children, which included eight girls and two boys. As a young girl she enjoyed exploring the meadows and woods near her house and playing with her brothers and sisters. When Lucy was seven years old her father died unexpectedly, changing her life forever. Lucy’s mother struggled to find the money to feed and clothe her big family. Not many jobs were open…

EVERYONE KNOWS that “clothes make the man”—or woman, for that matter. So let’s examine what our glad rags, or fine clothes, are made of. Many fabrics are named after the places where they were first produced. Calico, for instance, originated in the Indian city of Calicut (not Calcutta), and damask was cloth from the ancient city of Damascus. Diaper cloth got its name from the Greek diaspros (shining white), which shows that this linen-like cloth was not put to the purpose it serves today! And while your argyle-patterned socks and cap are indeed named after a Scottish clan, your tweed suit did not get its name from the famous River Tweed. It goes back to the Old English twilic, literally meaning “having a double thread.” If the fabric is a…