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Franklin Is Lost, Franklin's Secret Club, and Franklin and Harriet




  Contents

  Franklin Is Lost

  Franklin’s Secret Club

  Franklin and Harriet

  For Wesley – P. B.

  With thanks to Lois Keddy and her family – B. C.

  Franklin is a trademark of Kids Can Press Ltd.

  Text © 1992 by Contextx Inc.

  Illustrations © 1992 Brenda Clark Illustrator Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without, the prior written permission of Kids Can Press Ltd. or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a license from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright license, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free to 1-800-893-5777.

  Kids Can Press acknowledges the financial support of the Ontario Arts Council, the Canada Council for the Arts and the Government of Canada, through the BPIDP, for our publishing activity.

  Published in Canada by

  Kids Can Press Ltd.

  25 Dockside Drive

  Toronto, ON M5A 0B5

  www.kidscanpress.com

  The hardcover edition of this book is smyth sewn casebound.

  The paperback edition of this book is limp sewn with a drawn-on cover.

  Manufactured in Buji, Shenzhen, China, in 10/2010 by WKT Company

  CM 92 0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3

  CDN PA 92 20 19 28 17 16

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Bourgeois, Paulette

  Franklin is lost/ written by Paulette Bourgeois ; illustrated by Brenda Clark.

  eISBN 978-1-4532-1871-6

  ISBN 978-1-55453-735-8

  1. Franklin (Fictitious character: Bourgeois) – Juvenile fiction. I. Clark, Brenda II. Title.

  PS8553.O85477F53 2011 jC813’.54 C2010-906682-0

  Kids Can Press is a Corus™ Entertainment Company

  Franklin Is Lost

  Written by Paulette Bourgeois

  Illustrated by Brenda Clark

  Kids Can Press

  FRANKLIN could slide down a river bank. He could count forwards and backwards. He could zip zippers and button buttons. He could even walk to Bear’s house all by himself. But Franklin was not allowed to go into the woods alone.

  One day Franklin said, “I’m going to play at Bear’s house.”

  “All right,” said Franklin’s mother. “But be home for dinner by six o’clock.” She showed him the time with the hands of the clock. “And Franklin,” she warned, “don’t go into the woods alone.”

  Franklin raced down the path, over the bridge and across the berry patch.

  Bear was there. Fox was there. Goose and Otter were there.

  “I’m here,” huffed Franklin. “What are you playing?”

  “Hide and seek,” shouted his friends. “And you’re It.”

  Franklin started counting. Hide and seek was his favourite game. He wasn’t very fast but he was very clever. He knew Bear always hid in the berry patch.

  Franklin looked around. He saw a shaggy paw swipe at a branch of berries.

  “I see you, Bear,” he called.

  Franklin spotted feathers and fur under the bridge.

  “I see you, Goose. I see you, Otter,” he called.

  Only Fox was left to find. Franklin walked this way and that. He looked into bushes and searched under logs. He walked along the path and over the bridge and without even thinking, he walked right into the woods.

  He looked into burrows and all around trees. Franklin searched everywhere but he couldn’t find Fox.

  Fox wasn’t in the woods at all. He was hiding inside Bear’s house. After awhile he shouted, “Can’t catch me!”

  But Franklin couldn’t hear him. He was too far away.

  “Where’s Franklin?” asked Fox.

  Nobody knew.

  They waited a long time. Bear’s tummy grumbled. Finally, Goose said, “It’s almost six o’clock. Franklin must have hurried home for supper.”

  “Of course,” they said, and off they went.

  At Franklin’s house, the clock struck six. Franklin’s parents were annoyed. Their supper was ready.

  By half-past six, they were worried and went looking for Franklin.

  Franklin’s father searched along the path.

  “Franklin,” he called. “Where are you?”

  Franklin’s mother talked to his friends.

  “Where’s Franklin?” she asked Bear.

  “Where’s Franklin?” she asked Otter and Goose.

  “Where’s Franklin?” she asked Fox.

  Nobody knew. Now they were worried, too.

  It was getting dark. Franklin turned one way and then another. Every tree looked the same. Every rock looked the same. He couldn’t find the path.

  “I’m lost,” said Franklin in a tiny little voice.

  He couldn’t remember which way he had come. He didn’t know which way to go. He was tired and frightened and all alone. Franklin curled up in his small dark shell and waited. Somebody would come. Sometime. Wouldn’t they?

  Dark shadows flitted across the rocks.

  “Who’s there?” whispered Franklin. But no one answered because it was the clouds blowing across the face of the moon.

  “Whoo. Whoo.”

  “Who’s there?” whispered Franklin. But no one answered because it was Owl far, far away.

  “Whewwww. Whewwww.”

  “Who’s there?” whispered Franklin. But no one answered because it was the wind whistling through the trees.

  Franklin tried to sleep, but every sound made him jump.

  He was humming himself a little tune when he heard: “Crick, crack, crick, crack, crick, crack, squish.”

  “Who’s there?” whispered Franklin. But no one answered.

  Then Franklin heard a new sound. It sounded like someone calling his name.

  He heard it again.

  “Here I am! Here I am!” Franklin shouted over and over.

  CRICK CRACK, CRICK CRACK, CRICK CRACK, SQUISH. Franklin’s parents came over the knoll.

  “There you are!” They hugged him and kissed him and held him tight.

  “We were so worried,” said Franklin’s father.

  “You were told not to go into the woods alone,” scolded his mother.

  “It wasn’t on purpose,” sniffled Franklin. “I was looking for Fox and I forgot.”

  “Well, thank goodness you’re safe,” said Franklin’s parents.

  They found the path and walked all the way home. Their supper was still warm in the oven. After two helpings of everything, Franklin had something important to say.

  “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never go into the woods alone again.”

  “Even if Fox hides there?” asked his mother.

  “Even if Bear hides there?” asked his father.

  “Even if everybody hides there!” said Franklin.

  It was half-past bedtime. Franklin crawled into his warm, safe shell.

  “Good night, dear,” said his parents.

  But no one answered because Franklin had fallen fast asleep.

  For Mira – P. B.

  For Robin and his friends – B. C.

  Franklin is a trademark of Kids Can Press Ltd.

  Text © 1998 by P.B. Creations Inc.

  Illustrations © 1998 Brenda Clark Illustrator Inc.

  Interior illustrations prepared with the assistance of Shelley Southern.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval sy
stem or transmitted, in any form or by any means without, the prior written permission of Kids Can Press Ltd. or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from CANCOPY (Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency), 1 Yonge Street, Suite 1900, Toronto, ON, M5E 1E5.

  Kids Can Press Ltd.

  29 Birch Avenue

  Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  Printed in Hong Kong by Wing King Tong Co. Ltd.

  CDN PA 98 0 9 8 7 6 5

  Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Bourgeois, Paulette

  Franklin’s secret club

  ISBN 1-55074-474-7 (bound) ISBN 1-55074-476-3 (pbk.)

  I. Clark, Brenda. II. Title.

  PS8553.O85477F72 1998 jC813’.54 C97-932649-4

  PZ7.B68Fr 1998

  Kids Can Press is a Nelvana company

  Franklin’s Secret Club

  Written by Paulette Bourgeois

  Illustrated by Brenda Clark

  Kids Can Press

  FRANKLIN could count by twos and tie his shoes. He liked to play on teams and join in games. Franklin belonged to the school choir and the arts and crafts club. He liked belonging and that’s why Franklin decided to start his own club.

  One day Franklin discovered a hideaway near his house. It was the perfect place for a club.

  “We can have a secret password and a secret handshake,” Franklin told Bear.

  “And secret snacks?” asked Bear hopefully.

  “With secret ingredients,” Franklin laughed.

  The hideaway was very snug. It was too small for a big club.

  “I know,” said Franklin. “Snail and Rabbit will fit. Let’s ask them to join.”

  Together, Snail, Rabbit, Franklin and Bear fixed up the clubhouse.

  They called themselves the Secret Club.

  The club members met every day after school. They ate blueberry muffins and made tin-can telephones. They made macaroni bracelets and gave them to one another.

  Franklin was so busy doing secret things with the other club members that he almost forgot about the rest of his friends.

  At school, everyone was being very nice to Franklin. Especially Beaver.

  She saved Franklin a seat on the bus for three days in a row. She offered him the best part of her lunch. She even helped Franklin tidy up after art.

  “Thank you, Beaver,” said Franklin.

  Beaver smiled. “Now can I join your club?”

  Franklin was surprised. He didn’t know that others wanted to join his club.

  “Sorry Beaver,” said Franklin. ‘But we can’t fit anyone else in the clubhouse.”

  “That’s not a good reason,” muttered Beaver. “And it’s not fair. I’m going to start my own club.”

  “But …” Franklin began, as Beaver left in a huff.

  After school, Franklin’s club had a treasure hunt.

  Franklin didn’t find a thing. He was upset because Beaver had been so angry.

  “I told Beaver there just isn’t room for more members,” Franklin explained to Snail, Bear and Rabbit.

  They nodded sadly.

  The next day Franklin and Bear did their secret handshake – two slaps and a tickle – and whispered the password, “Blueberries.”

  Bear flapped his arms, wiggled his fingers, wrinkled his nose and said, “Fizzle-Fazzle, Diddle-Daddle, Ding-Dong-Bop!”

  “What was that?” asked Franklin.

  “The handshake and the password for Beaver’s Adventure Club. Fox showed me.”

  “Oh,” said Franklin.

  The Secret Club members kept busy playing games.

  Franklin had fun, but he’d heard that Beaver’s club was even more fun.

  “Today the adventurers are digging for dinosaurs,” said Snail.

  “The Adventure Club sure is amazing,” sighed Bear.

  “Sure is,” said Franklin.

  Franklin tried hard to think of secret things that were more exciting. The Secret Club members learned to write invisible letters with lemon juice, and one day they made a secret code.

  But that very same day, the adventurers planned a trip to the moon.

  Soon after, Franklin and his club members went to see Beaver’s adventure headquarters.

  There was a tree house to climb up to, a tire to swing from, a tent to play in and a big sign that said, “Members Only.”

  Franklin itched to join the Adventure Club.

  “Now I know how Beaver felt,” he said sadly. “Left out.”

  Suddenly, Franklin had an idea.

  “Let’s invite all the adventurers to join our club so nobody feels left out,” he announced.

  “But there’s not enough room for everyone,” said Bear.

  “We can always meet outside,” said Franklin. “Then there’ll be plenty of room.”

  So Franklin invited Beaver to meet with him.

  “I’m sorry I left you out,” said Franklin.

  Beaver accepted the apology. “I’m sorry that I left you out, too.”

  “The Adventure Club is a good club,” said Franklin. “So is the Secret Club. But if we join together, we could have the best club.”

  Beaver agreed, and the two clubs became one.

  Everybody was excited. Beaver’s club members wanted to learn secret things. Franklin’s club members were ready to explore.

  The new club was called the Secret Adventure Club. Its password was Fizzle-Fazzle, Diddle-Daddle, Ding-Dong-Blueberry-Bop!

  When the members greeted one another, they flapped their arms, wiggled their fingers, wrinkled their noses and did two slaps and a tickle.

  Beaver made a sign for their club headquarters. It said, “Secret Adventure Club.”

  Franklin made another sign. It said, “Everyone Welcome.”

  He didn’t want anybody to feel left out.

  For Shane and Keeley, brother and sister – P.B.

  To Derek, who knows all about baby sisters – B.C.

  Franklin is a trademark of Kids Can Press Ltd.

  Text © 2001 by Contextx Inc.

  Illustrations © 2001 Brenda Clark Illustrator Inc.

  Interior illustrations prepared with the assistance of Shelley Southern.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without, the prior written permission of Kids Can Press Ltd. or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from CANCOPY (Canadia Copyright Licensing Agency), 1 Yonge Street, Suite 1900, Toronto, ON, M5E 1E5.

  Kids Can Press acknowledges the financial support of the Ontario Arts Council, the Canada Council for the Arts and the Government of Canada, through the BPIDP, for our publishing activity.

  Kids Can Press Ltd.

  29 Birch Avenue

  Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  M4V 1E2

  Printed in Hong Kong by Wing King Tong Company Limited

  CDN 01 0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  CDN PA 01 0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

  Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Bourgeois, Paulette

  Franklin and Harriet

  ISBN 1-55074-874-2 (bound) ISBN 1-55074-873-4 (pbk.)

  I. Clark, Brenda. II. Title.

  PS8553.O85477F856 2001 jC813’.54 C00-931636-1

  PZ7.B68Fr 1998

  Kids Can Press is a Nelvana company

  Franklin and Harriet

  Written by Paulette Bourgeois

  Illustrated by Brenda Clark

  Kids Can Press

  FRANKLIN could count by twos and tie his shoes. He helped his little sister, Harriet, zip zippers and button buttons. He showed her how to play peekaboo and pat-a-cake. He read stories and sang songs to her. Franklin loved his little sister, and he liked being a big brother … most of the time.

  One day, Franklin took Harriet outside to play.

  He pushed Harriet in her swing.

  He held her hand as she went down the slide.

  But he didn’t see the puddle
at the bottom.

  “Oh, no!” cried Franklin.

  Harriet was covered in mud.

  Franklin looked around. Maybe he could clean her up before his father noticed.

  Harriet rubbed her face, and it got muddy, too.

  Then she started to cry.

  “Please don’t cry,” begged Franklin.

  He gave Harriet her blanket. He made funny faces. But nothing stopped her sobbing.

  Then Franklin had an idea. He pretended that his stuffed dog, Sam, was a puppet.

  Franklin barked. Harriet smiled.

  “Bad mud puddle!” said Franklin.

  Harriet giggled. She reached out to Sam and gave him a hug.

  “Whew!” said Franklin.

  Franklin’s father laughed when he saw Harriet. “I think a bubble bath is in order.”

  Franklin was relieved. “Sam needs one, too.”

  “Two baths coming up,” said Franklin’s father.

  Franklin helped fill the tub and stir up the bubbles. He checked to make sure the water was not too hot and not too cold.

  Just before bedtime, Franklin couldn’t find Sam anywhere.

  Finally, he spotted Sam in Harriet’s crib.

  Franklin wanted Sam back, but his mother didn’t want to wake Harriet.