Innholdsfortegnelse for January 2023 i Cricket Magazine Fiction and Non-Fiction Stories for Children and Young Teens

“In the Buginning” digital Kyle Reed is an illustrator based in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. His digital and traditional collage work has appeared in children’s book publishing, magazine publishing, and advertising. Cricket is very pleased to have Kyle illustrate our cover, “In the Buginning,” as we enter the celebration of our 50th-anniversary year. Fifty years may seem like ancient history, but Cricket and all the bugs seem as young as ever—and are still making us laugh! If you look closely on the next page, you will see children enjoying the first ever Cricket. Is it time to renew? shop.cricketmedia.com 1-800-821-0115…

When I was so small that my head barely touched the windowsill,we lived in the evergreen forests of Vermont.Our home was far, far away from any town or city,but that was the way we liked it. Some winters, it got so cold that the river would freeze,which was unusual for water like that, water which ran so fast and deep.It felt as though time had stopped near the river,and so it had decided to become solid,settling in to wait for spring. We liked to skate on that river, my grandfather and I,even though the ice was bumpy,my skates shiny whiteand his brown leather, so old that they had belonged to his father before him. One night, in the most frigid winter my young mind could recall,(long after I should have…

I made the birds a tasty treat With bagel, seeds, and string And peanut butter thickly spread To make the bird seeds cling. But before the backyard birds could sup Upon this wintry feast From far below came darting up A different kind of beast. He nimbly balanced on a branch And stuffed his cheeks with seeds Then swinging like an acrobat He ate the whole trapeze! And when he’d finally had his fill Of my sticky birdseed ring He scurried back from whence he came Leaving only crumbs and string.…

Solution on page 47 Across1. Ensemble of musicians4. Electric or acoustic six-stringed instrument8. Short for amplifier10. Musical term that means “slowly, leisurely”12. Country singer Johnny16. Belonging to us17. Big music was popular in the 1930s19. Leader of a symphony orchestra22. Double-reed woodwind instrument24. Short for I owe you27. Rock-’n’-28. Rates of speed in a musical composition32. Short for popular music34. Vocalist 35. music is printed on unbound pieces of paper Down1. Rock band’s engagement2. Keyboard instrument used in churches3. Johann Sebastian Bach is often called pa Bach5. Opposite of do6. , you’re it!7. de Janeiro9. Do, re,11. Small hotel13. Trumpet14. Rock-band fan15. A disc jockey plays music on the17. What a ghost says18. Ringo’s instrument20. Lyric poem21. Band’s concert trek23. Honey maker 25. but goodie26. Musical sound or tone28. “My…

WHEN CANDACE MOONEY walked into space station Courage’s Penguin Research Lab, Dejario Reynas had a penguin in his lap and two at his knees. “What are you doing?” she exclaimed. Dejario stood up quickly, sliding the penguin to the floor. “I’m not playing with them,” he said, a guilty look on his face. “I’m collecting data.” The PRL was an inner ring lab of Courage. Emperors were adapted to extreme temperatures and pressures, and scientists studied how they could go from deep ocean water to the surface like little submarines. Finding out how emperors stored oxygen in muscle tissue and survived sudden pressure drops might keep people alive longer during loss-of-pressure emergencies. Candace rolled her eyes. “What kind of data?” “Um, how wing length can be used to predict diving…

ALMA FELT HER way in the darkness toward the back of the cave. The reed in her mouth felt dry and woody, and the pouch of ochre around her neck swung from side to side as she crawled. The tunnel opened into a bright room, lit by an opening in the ceiling. She was in a part of the cave that her band called their worship room. Here, Alma’s people prayed to the spirits of the earth and the sky, the waters and the wind. Alma stood, adjusted her fur leggings, then walked to the far end of the chamber, which was littered with stones. Stained, empty seashells and sharpened bones lay at her feet. There, on the wall, were Oman’s paintings: hunters with spears, bulls and deer, boars, and…

THE HOLLOW OF the oak tree wasn’t dark enough. Zoia squeezed her head between her knees, letting her wool dress mute the sunlight, the sounds of the forest, and the angry knife of grief that found her heart every time she thought about last night. Zoia’s mother had taught her how to calm the chaos in her mind. Noises and bright lights overwhelmed her, making it hard to focus or think. It was even more difficult when she was feeling big emotions at the same time. By focusing on the little things in the world around her, she could slow her racing heartbeat and ease the ache in her head. Zoia had done it last night as she’d watched the Scythian slavers drag her brother away. Now, in her oak…

JAMIE RICE INCHED his chair closer to the fire that struggled to warm the Old Stone House. A surefooted skater, he had spent the morning zipping up and down the temporary ponds that last autumn’s rains had created in the frozen fields bordering the Gowanus Canal. Yet here, in the clubhouse of the Brooklyn Atlantics Base Ball Club, all he could think of was spring. At sixteen, he hoped to break into the Atlantics lineup. It wouldn’t be easy. The Atlantics would enter the 1861 season as one of the most successful teams in the country. The door burst open and Jamie’s Uncle Charlie, the Atlantics star second baseman, charged in, a wooden cigar box tucked under one arm. “Wait until you see this, Jamie,” he said, lifting the lid.…