“Why can’t I put cookies in this cookie jar?” Keesha’s mother asked.
“Because of the goblin,” said the storekeeper. “He’s asleep now, but if you put cookies in his cookie jar, you’ll wake him – and then you’ll never get another moment’s peace.”
Poor Mrs. Huddle. None of her new neighbours welcomed her to Tangletree Forest; none of them would even talk to her! But Mrs. Huddle was a determined troll. She rolled up her sleeves and got to work turning the badgers’ abandoned den into an inn.
Of all the girls in the kingdom of Once-Upon-a-Time, Rivka is the bravest! But what will happen when she meets the King of the Trolls?
Someone has stolen the King’s plum pudding!
The King and his companions followed the trail of crumbs, out of the castle and across the countryside. As they went, more people joined the procession. Mile after mile they marched – until they spied a mountain in the distance . . .
Thorin Thistlebottom had everything an elf could want: a little house in the roots of an oak tree, a soft little bed, even a set of dishes made from acorn caps. But more than anything, Thorin loved his fancy waistcoat, with buttons in every colour of the rainbow.
There were once four sisters who got along very well – until Winter decided she wasn’t going to let Spring have her turn. Poor Spring! She tried to wake the sleeping bears, but when they peeked out and felt the icy wind – when they saw how much snow still covered the ground – they just shivered, and went back to sleep.
Every summer, teams of brave marmoteers go up into the mountains to help the endangered marmots of Vancouver Island. Special thanks go to Kevin Gourlay and the Marmot Recovery Foundation for helping me tell this real-life adventure!
Photo credit: Marmot Recovery Foundation
One by one, the children of Juniper Lane found their way into the secret garden. They had picnics on the grass, and played games, and made flower crowns for the stone lion’s head. And though the stone lion’s expression never changed, somehow it seemed pleased to have the children’s company.
The two children felt themselves being transformed. Instead of clothes, they had blubber and fur. Instead of hands and feet, they had flippers. Their ears got smaller, their eyes got bigger, and whiskers sprouted on either side of their new, flat noses.
Anika patted her snow pony goodbye, and turned to go inside. But just as she had her hand on the door, she heard something behind her. It sounded like a whinny, like a real pony.