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Can you name these books? You could win $50!

August 15, 2000

Can you name these books? You could win $50!



Hey, middle-schoolers! Have you finished the books on your summer reading list yet?

School starts in less than two weeks, so get busy.

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Not just because you may have to write a book report, but because you might win $50!!!!!

How? Here are six passages. Identify the author and book title of each.

If there's a tie, names of the winners will be placed in a hat, and one will be drawn. If no one correctly identifies them all, the person with the most right answers will win.

Contest open to those in grade eight or lower. Employees of The Herald-Mail Co. and their family members are not eligible.

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Send your response in one of the following ways:

HEIGHT="6" ALT="* "> Drop it off at The Herald-Mail office, 100 Summit Ave., Hagerstown.

HEIGHT="6" ALT="* "> Mail it in care of Reading Contest, The Herald-Mail Co., P.O. Box 439, Hagerstown, Md. 21741.

HEIGHT="6" ALT="* "> E-mail it to katec@herald-mail.com.

HEIGHT="6" ALT="* "> Fax it to 301-714-0245.

Include a daytime telephone number. The deadline is 9 a.m., Monday, Aug. 21.

We'll publish the winner's name and photograph, along with the correct answers, Tuesday, Aug. 29.

- Kate Coleman, Staff Writer

1. "I had heard the old Indian legend about the red fern. How a little Indian boy and girl were lost in a blizzard and had frozen to death. In the spring, when they were found, a beautiful red fern had grown up between their two bodies. The story went on to say than only an angel could plant the seeds of a red fern, and that they never died; where one grew, that spot was sacred."




2. "Mrs. Whatsit continued to climb, her wings straining a littlle. Meg felt her heart racing; cold sweat began to gather on her face and her lips felt as though they were turning blue. She began to gasp.

'All right, children, use your flowers now,' Mrs. Whatsit said. 'The atmosphere will continue to get thinner from now on. Hold the flowers up to your face and breathe through them and they will give you enough oxygen. It won't be as much as you're used to, but it will be enough.' "




3. "Believe me, if you've been shut up for a year and a half, it can get to be too much for you sometimes. But feelings can't be ignored, no matter how unjust or ungrateful they seem. I long to ride a bike, dance, whistle, look at the world, feel young and know that I'm free, and yet I can't let it show. Just imagine what would happen if all eight of us were to feel sorry for ourselves or walk around with the discontent clearly visible on our faces. Where would that get us? I sometimes wonder if anyone will ever understand what I mean, if anyone will ever overlook my ingratitude and not worry about whether or not I'm Jewish and merely see me as a teenager badly in need of some good plain fun."




4. "It was almost as if I'd graduated from the survival course that Timothy had been putting me through since we had landed on the cay.

It rained that night, a very soft rain. Not even enough to drip through the palm frond roof. Timothy breathed softly beside me. I had now been with him every moment of the day and night for two months, but I had not seen him. I remembered that ugly welted face. But now, in my memory, it did not seem ugly at all. It seemed only kind and strong.

I asked, 'Timothy, are you still black?'

His laughter filled the hut.




5. " 'Jonas,' she said, speaking not to him alone but to the entire community of which he was a part, 'you will be trained to be our next Receiver of Memory. We thank you for your childhood.'

Then she turned and left the stage, left him there alone, standing and facing the crowd, which began spontaneously the collective murmur of his name.

'Jonas,' It was a whisper at first: hushed, barely audible. 'Jonas. Jonas.'

Then louder, faster. 'JONAS. JONAS. JONAS.'




6. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it."

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