A Year of Mini Mysteries. Kathy Passero

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Charlotte exclaimed. “It’s too bad that Brooklyn had to miss this

      for practice.”

       “We’ll bring her some cider,” suggested Ms. DeRose. The plan was to buy

      apples and help Brooklyn make some pies for her soccer team’s upcoming

      bake sale.

       Alex and Charlotte each took a basket, then boarded a horse-drawn

      wagon for a short ride to the orchard. As they jostled along, Charlotte read the

      farm’s apple fact sheet. “It says Granny Smiths are great for pies.”

       “Let’s get the kind for applesauce, too,” Alex suggested. “Mom and I made

      some last year. Mmm!”

       Charlotte scanned the page. “They recommend Golden Delicious for

      applesauce. And McIntosh apples are for snacks. We could take those to

      school for lunch.”

       The wagon drew to a stop, and the girls scrambled down. They followed

      a sign marked “Golden Delicious” to a row of trees full of butter-colored

      apples with tiny freckles. After filling half of Alex’s basket, they found the

      McIntoshes. When Charlotte’s basket was half full of the rosy red apples, they

      moved on to Granny Smiths.

       “It takes three whole apples to make two cups of peeled, sliced apples.

      And you need six cups for a pie,” said Charlotte. “That’s nine apples per pie.”

       “Brainiac,” teased Alex.

       “So we’ll need twenty-seven Granny Smiths for three pies,” Charlotte

      calculated as they plucked bright green apples from the branches. Once both

      baskets were full, Ms. DeRose helped them lug the fruit to the barn to be

      weighed. Then she treated them to cider and doughnuts.

       “Look, they have farm animals!” Charlotte exclaimed. “Let’s go see.”

       As they neared the fence, a goat stretched its head up toward Charlotte.

       “He likes you,” said Alex.

      “Think so?” asked Charlotte. Delighted,

      she leaned over the fence. The next thing

      she knew, the goat grabbed one of her

      braids in its mouth.

      “Hey! My hair!” she exclaimed,

      trying to tug her thick, dark tresses

      away.

      “Sweetie Pie!” cried a boy in a

      Whitmore Farm T-shirt, hurrying

      toward them.

      Charlotte thought the boy was

      talking to her until he scooped

      up the goat and eased the animal’s

      mouth open.

      “Sorry about that,” said the boy, as

      Charlotte surveyed the soggy strands of

      hair and Alex fought back giggles. “He loves

      long hair.”

      Sweetie Pie rubbed his head against the boy’s

      shoulder affectionately, then stretched it out toward Charlotte.

      “Aw, he’s cute,” said Charlotte. The words had barely left her lips when the

      goat chomped down on her other braid.

      “Oh, no! Bad goat!” scolded the boy as he repeated the rescue operation.

      Giving in to laughter, Alex threw her arm around her friend’s shoulders

      and led her back to the car. By the time they got home, Charlotte was chuck-

      ling, too. Both girls were eager to tell Brooklyn, who was waiting on the front

      steps of Alex’s house.

      “Sweetie Pie must be really sick of apples if he’d rather eat people’s

      braids!” Brooklyn laughed. “Speaking of apples, did you get pie crust?”

       “Whoops. With all the excitement, we forgot to buy the other ingredi-

      ents,” Ms. DeRose apologized. “I’ll run to the store now. We can start peeling

      and baking as soon as I get back. In the meantime, you girls wash the apples.”

       Brooklyn hoisted the bags onto Alex’s kitchen counter and began remov-

      ing the fruit. “Why’d you get three kinds?” she asked.

       “One’s good for pies. Another is for applesauce,” Alex explained.

      “The third kind is for snacks.”

       “Cool,” said Brooklyn. “Which one’s which?”

       “Um . . .,” Alex hesitated. “I guess ingredients

      aren’t the only thing we forgot.”

       “The red ones are not for applesauce,” said

      Charlotte. “That’s all I remember.”

      How can the girls figure

      out which apple is best

      for which purpose?

      (TAP HERE for answer.)

      How to Scare

      a Zombie

      “WANT . . . BRAINS,” moaned Charlotte in her zombie voice, stomping

      stiff-legged across Brooklyn’s bedroom.

       “People don’t usually give those СКАЧАТЬ