Margaret Mahy's The Bridge Builder

"We played where bridges were being born, running around piles of sand and shingle, bags of cement and bars of reinforced steel. Concrete mixers would turn, winches would wind, piles would be driven and decking cast. Slowly, as we watched and played, a bridge would appear and people could cross over..."

This story is part of a short collection of 9 tales published by Delacorte Press and is a visitor to White Rabbit's book-shelf from the Berkeley Public Library.

Use your library card!

Margaret Mahy's Ultra-Voilet Catastrophe!

"Ultra violet catastrophe," murmured the great-uncle to himself.
"What does that mean?" Asked Sally boldly.
"It's the sound I say it for, not the meaning," Great-Uncle Magus explained. "Some people say 'Goodness Gracious.' That doesn't mean much--they say it for the sound. But I like to say something that sounds even better and more important."
"Words usually mean some real thing," said Sally carefuly. "For instance, I say 'Horrible Stumper' and it means tree pirate..."

Margaret Mahy's The Wind Between the Stars

"One day, when Phoebe was small, her old Granny came in shaking her head and saying,
"The wind's blowing from right between the stars tonight." Little Phoebe stopped playing
and listened to the wind. It sounded big enough to snatch up the hills in its right hand and
the moon in its left, and to carry them away for always...."




Stories love pictures.