Philadelphia Libraries to Remain Open After All

The good news is that Philadelphia libraries will not close. However, the good news comes with a price. The libraries won't close because state legislature passed a new sales tax that will last five years.

The link posted comes from BoingBoing. I recommend reading through some of the comments. They provide some perspective into the bigger picture, like this one from PhillyLibrarian.

Philadelphia libraries

If the Pennsylvania state legislature doesn't approve a new sales tax, all Philadelphia libraries will close. Below the Library Journal article is a list of "most popular pages" including this one:

How To Become a Librarian

Hmmmm.

When the Library System Shuts Down

From August 31--September 7, 2009, all Seattle Public Library branches will be closed due to budget cuts. No employees will be paid during this enforced furlough. Seattle is supposed to be one of the most literate cities in the United States. Library closures mock this claim.

While there used to be equal reciprocal borrowing between Seattle Public Library and King County Library System, that is no longer the case. Seattle residents may use KCLS databases and borrow KCLS materials when they go to a specific branch, but Seattle residents may not place holds on KCLS items. This change was implemented because more Seattle residents borrow from KCLS than KCLS borrows from SPL. This makes sense: KCLS has more money, and can purchase more materials. The reciprocal borrowing agreement states why Seattle residents can't buy KCLS library cards and why the two systems can't merge. KCLS gets much of its funding from property taxes while SPL gets its funding from the city's general fund.

The SPL website reciprocal agreement page says:

We deeply regret any inconvenience this change causes. Both KCLS and SPL look forward to continuing our long history of cooperation and commitment to excellent library service to all residents of King County, regardless of jurisdictional boundaries.

I am not interested in regrets unless they spur us on to fix what is broken. I want full reciprocal borrowing privileges reinstated. I want my elected officials to recognize libraries as providing core services relating to literacy and education. I want my libraries to remain open. If the current funding plan doesn't work (obviously it doesn't), then fix it. If KCLS can remain open by being funded by property taxes, then perhaps Seattle should get on board as well. As KCLS director Bill Ptacek said in 2004, "The primary thing a library does is be open." ("Libraries for All, Except When They're Closed" by Susan Byrnes)

School librarians reassigned to classrooms

From the Seattle Times article Reassigned school librarians get attention beyond Bellevue, by Katherine Long:

[Sandy] Livingston, the Sammamish librarian, echoed UW professor [Michael] Eisenberg's analysis: that a library without a librarian is just a depository of books. Among other things, school librarians help guide students to credible sources of information on the Internet, and teach them how to decide if a source they've found online is legitimate or not.

When I worked for King County Library System, I visited the Bellevue, Washington elementary public schools for summer-reading program visits. The librarians were knowledgable, in touch with their students, and maintained excellent library collections. Many of the students were avid readers. Had I gone the school librarian route, the Bellevue School District would have been a dream location.

Once upon a time.

Storytime Wrap-Up: Seattle Public Library

We finally have winners of the Children's Book Sequels contest! The fabulous Minh Le and I will announce them next week, along with honorable mentions and all the other entries as well.

Today, I performed at the Madrona-Sally Goldmark branch of Seattle Public Library. This was the performance that had been postponed from December due to snow.



We had a good turn-out (29 people) and there were a number of babies as well as toddlers and preschoolers. People seemed to have a good time. I know I did. I performed my new song, "May I Walk With You?" with felt-board pieces you can see here:



There's a daytime version of this song, and a nighttime version. Here is the main body of the daytime version:

I went for a walk in the fields one day,
And I met a duck who was going my way,
"Quack, quack," said the duck, "May I walk with you,
Quack, quack," said the duck, "May I walk with you?"

Repeat with different animals.

The final verse:

And when I stopped walking, I turned to see
A whole bunch of animals following me....

[call out all the animal sounds]

Then we sat in the meadow and we all had tea,
When the party was over, they said to me,
"So long, and thanks for your company,
So long and thanks for your company."

I plan to record it eventually so that you may hear what it sounds like.

In other news, storytelling student Jody Segal had kind things to say about my gig at Third Place Books yesterday, which you may read here.

Revving Reluctant Readers & Diversifying the Homeschool Plan: Two Posts

I've been using my available pockets of time to work on school auction projects, and with the exception of yesterday's voice lesson, I've neglected music and storytelling for the past two days. I will eventually show you what I've been working on, but I want everything to be completed first. Facebook has been a good outlet for me to post what I've been working on-- I can post a photo in the Things I've Made photo album and be done with it.

In the meantime, here are two literacy-related posts for you to check out:

Author Susan Stephenson of The Book Chook has a good post on Revving Up Reluctant Readers. The accompanying photo is fantastic, too.

Adrienne Furness of What Adrienne Thinks About That has an article on the Lee and Low Books website called Diversify Your Homeschool Plan With Vanishing Cultures. Adrienne is the author of Helping Homeschoolers in the Library, published by the American Library Association.

Pierce County Library Programs

Musical Storytime with Farida Dowler

Follow the link for my Pierce County Library programs this Fall!

Summer Reading and the Scourge of Beach-Balls

This post was inspired by Adrienne's post in her Unpopular Library-Related Opinions series called, “To the Left,” or How to Ditch Your Summer Reading Program and Find Something More Fulfilling:

As a child, I was completely unaware of my local library’s summer reading program. I was too busy trying to read all of the books in the children’s section to be aware of anything but the next book. I’m not exaggerating. My first exposure to the library’s summer reading program happened when I was 14 or 15. My mother, who was trained as a children’s librarian, started working at our local library as a shelver, then as a reference librarian, and finally as a children’s librarian when that position opened up. The schedule of the previous children’s librarian’s summer reading program with all its prizes was already in place. For some reason (probably having to do with staffing issues), my mom could not oversee the film showing of “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” and had a library staff person host the program. [Correction: She was not yet the children's librarian.] My mom The librarian asked me to help with the distribution of the prizes afterward: beach balls and Frisbees.

After the film was over, it became quite clear that almost everyone was there for the prizes. They swarmed up and loudly clamored for the beach balls. One boy said he’d forgotten his summer reading program sheet, but he had read all the books. I believed him, and gave him a beach ball. Soon after, the patrons started yelling at me. We had run out of beach balls, and only had Frisbees left. The parents said they had come for the beach balls, and I was ruining their child’s summer reading program experience. (No, I don’t think they actually said that, but they were quite whipped out of shape.) After scolding me, one of the moms told her daughter, “You don’t get a beach ball after all,” and radiated triumph when her daughter started to cry.

My mom will probably point out in the comments that I got parts of the story wrong [Yes indeed! Corrections are noted], but I definitely know that she was appalled by the behavior of the patrons. She said, “They watched a movie that addressed kindness and selfishness, and the message didn’t sink in at all. I can’t believe they came to the program just to get a 3 dollar plastic beach ball.” The next year, and all the years after that she was a children’s librarian at the local library, my mom had more mellow summer reading programs with books as prizes.

As the sole children’s librarian in a branch independent of the county library system, my mom was able to make those kinds of decisions without having to wrangle with a centralized system. When I myself became a children’s librarian, I worked in large systems where the themes, programs and prizes were already mandated. I do appreciate the benefits of large systems (being able to place holds on books that are then delivered to my home branch, online full-text periodicals databases), but I wish that the children’s librarians had more of a say in how they oversee their summer reading programs. Frankly, I wish they wouldn’t be run ragged by the intense schedules. When I worked in the libraries, I was always so grateful when the summer was over and the school schedules began. As busy and lively as the libraries were during the school year, it was nothing in comparison to the frenetic intensity of summer.

I'm happy to say that Seattle Public Library has a low-key, simple summer reading program. The reader writes down ten books read during the summer, and then gets to choose a free book and enter his or her name in the "Breakfast of Champions" drawing at the end of the summer. Subsequent groups of ten don't warrant more prizes, just more chances to enter the drawing. Lucia loves choosing a free book for her prize. The reward for her reading (i.e. being read to) is more reading.

Act!vated Storytellers at Crossroads Mall Today

Act!vated Storytellers are going to be at the Bellevue Crossroads Mall today at 4:30 presenting Quizzical Quests, sponsored by King County Library System. I'd meant to post a note earlier about this show, but at least you know before the end. El JoPe Magnifico chastised me (and rightly so) for writing about Captain Bogg & Salty after they had left the Seattle area.

You may read my interview with Act!vated Storytellers here.

Seven Tips for Satisfying Library Preschool Programs

Pictured: Chester, my storytime monkey. Every year, I'd celebrate Chester's birthday on my birthday. Every year, Chester turned 3 years old, and he baked cardamom sugar cookies for the children and their caregivers.

MotherReader would like you to submit tips related to children's books for her November 2007 Carnival of Children's Literature. I didn't have any tips specifically related to children's literature this year, so I made some new ones. Please add your own library program tips in the comments section.

Seven Tips for Satisfying Library Preschool Programs

1) Start the opening song late. Before I had a child, I was incredulous that these caregivers couldn’t get it together to bring their children to the storytime room at 10:30 am for a mere 30 minute storytime. After I had a child, I understood the reasons for the tardiness. My solution: I would pretend to start the program with a warm-up song. By the time the late-comers arrived, they thought the storytime had already begun. At 10:35, after the warm-up song, I’d make any general announcements that I needed to convey, and then start the official opening song.

2) I used to have a number of guidelines for the caregivers before I began my programs. Now, I have just one: turn cell phones and pagers off. Everything else (the rowdiness of the children, the nannies chatting away in the back, the toddler grabbing the cardboard and construction displays off the walls) is gravy. In the end, no one can truly control a child, but for thirty minutes, a grownup can control electronic noises.

3) You really don’t need a specific theme. If a unifying theme helps you prepare a storytime, that’s great, but don’t choose mediocre books just so you can read 5 books about frogs or fingernails. Choose books for their pacing, their ability to convey plot in a short amount of time, and how much you yourself enjoy the books. If you need something to unify them, there’s always “And now, for something completely different!”

4) Read your picture-books ahead of time. I cannot stress this enough. The one time you think, “Oh, I’m sure this book will be just fine” will be the one time you realize midway that the book is tedious, too long, or simply too weird for you at that juncture.

5) While some people are not comfortable with their singing voices, I prefer the storytime leader’s own natural voice, no matter how weak it may be, over playing recorded music. Whether you play an instrument or rely on your voice alone, when you lead the audience in a song, you are the one in charge. Besides, if you’re playing prerecorded music, there will always be the young toddler who persists in crawling behind you to unplug the player.

6) “Eensy Weensy Spider” often calms a fussy room. For slightly older kids, suddenly bursting into “Simon Says” will compel the room to order. I don’t know what it is about “Simon Says,” except that children don't want to be caught putting their hands on their heads if Simon didn’t Say for them to do it. The mortification is too much to bear.

7) Have a good ending song or rhyme. All flaws are forgiven with an ending that helps everyone walk out feeling good. I'm a fan of "Roly Poly" for the wee ones, and a song or poem in 3/4 time for the older ones.

A few of my favorite picture books for preschool storytimes:

Zzzing, Zzzng, Zzzng! --Phyllis Gershator
Chicken Chasing Queen of Lamar County--Janice N. Harrington (long)
Mama Don’t Allow—Thatcher Hurd
Round Trip—Ann Jonas
The Old Woman Who Lived in a Vinegar Bottle—Margaret Read MacDonald (long)
Flossie and the Fox-- Patricia McKissack
Guys From Space—Daniel Pinkwater
How to Make an Apple Pie and See the World—Marjorie Priceman
Saving Sweetness---Diane Stanley (long)
Twenty Four Robbers—Audrey Wood

Related post: Seven Tips for Successful Storytelling at Parties

The Long Way Around

When I was a little girl, I often thought about different career choices. I assumed I’d grow up to write children’s books, so I never mentioned “author” as an ambition. To me, it was self-evident. At different times, I wanted to be a ballet dancer, a psychiatrist, a psychologist, an Olympic cyclist, a biologist, an astronomer, and a a comedian. Here are the reasons:

1) Ballet dancer—I could dance in “The Sleeping Beauty” with Mikhail Baryshnikov
2) Psychiatrist—I could listen to other people’s stories all day long
3) Psychologist—I could listen to other people’s stories all day long without going to medical school
4) Olympic cyclist—I admired Connie Carpenter and Rebecca Twigg
5) Biologist—I thought that if nuclear war or environmental chaos happened, the scientists would be the ones who would rescue humanity
6) Astronomer—I could look at stars and planets all night long
7) Comedian—People would actually pay to hear my knock-knock jokes

In college, I majored in English so I could read books all day long. I wrote serious, angry poetry for publication and lighthearted verse to amuse my friends. I wrote chapters of novels and then abandoned them when I found them to be too depressing. Meanwhile, pressure was on for me to figure out a career in which I could support myself. “You won’t be able to make a living writing poetry,” my advisor told me. With much reluctance, I signed up for Introduction to Education instead of Shakespeare. After each class, I went home and cried because I didn’t want to be a teacher. In the second week of school, the Intro to Ed class watched a video that discussed mediocre teachers who shouldn’t be teaching. “Hey, I’m one of those people,” I thought. I walked out of class and headed toward my advisor’s office. I needed a plan.

The thought, “Why don’t you go to library school?” fell into my head. My mother was a children’s librarian, and I worked as a page (a.k.a. “shelver”) at my town library, but I hadn’t ever considered librarianship before those moments prior to my impromptu meeting with my advisor. Sometimes stress begats inspiration. By the time I reached my advisor’s office, I had a plan.

My advisor said, “That’s great! There are some really good academic libraries out there.”

“Actually, I want to be a children’s librarian,” I said.

My advisor visibly paused. “Do you really like kiddy-lit that much?” she said.

“Yes,” I replied.

I improved my grades (the Shakespeare class helped) but flubbed my GREs. I never tested well. I took a year off after college to do full-time voluntary service at a daycare center for homeless children, and then entered library school on a provisional status. The school lifted the provisional status after one semester, when I earned three As and one B+. I had a professor who appreciated children’s literature as a legitimate genre (she’d written her thesis on the St. Nicholas magazine). I wrote papers and read textbooks, but I still got to read children’s books for pleasure and write in-depth essays about them. I read all of the school library’s back issues of The Lion and the Unicorn and planned to use my independent study research on violence in 10 Grimms’ fairy tales for a future essay to submit to the literary journal. (I didn't.)

It was during graduate school that I took a class in storytelling and found that I was indeed a natural at the craft. All along, I had found other people’s stories compelling. While I made up stories of my own, they were always based on folktales and other people’s experiences. I graduated from library school, worked with The New York Public Library for two years, and kvelled to all of the storytelling opportunities available there.

Ten years later, here in Seattle, Washington, I am just now starting my storytelling business in earnest. Unlike my other ambitions, I am approaching the business with a series of small steps so that I don’t get discouraged by how slowly these ventures take. Fortunately, at this time I don’t have to make a living as a storyteller. I can hand out my business cards to a variety of small businesses and say, “If you ever need a storyteller, please think of me. Oh, and I do birthday parties, too.” It helps to have business cards that make people laugh.


Storytellers all: Bede, Alkelda, Lucia and Phil of the House of Glee
Photo by Phil's computer.

Library grrrl

Hey all,

If you're going to the ALA Midwinter Conference in Seattle, Washington this weekend, I'd love to see you, even if it's just a wave from across the exhibits hall. I've been looking forward to this particular conference ever since I moved away from New York City. I miss my old friends and colleagues from NYPL. Many of us have dispersed. It's a bit humbling to know that colleagues who have started their careers the same time I did are now managing branch librarians and award committee members. It's not as if my friends had pegged me "Least likely to pause her career in order to stay home with her child," but there are times when I am rueful about having left a 30 hour job with benefits and paid holidays. Truth be told (I get stomachaches when I lie), I quit my salaried job a year before I got pregnant. Officially, I quite because I believed I could make a steady living a substitute librarian while pursuing my writing career full-time. They say, "Don't quit your day job," and I did just that. It was the proverbial "jump off the cliff" into who-knows-where. Had I thrived as a freelance writer, people could say, "How inspiring, she followed her dreams, blah blah." Really, I wanted to see what would happen. If I didn't quit my job (which had a schedule that was leading to burn-out), I would have wondered what my life would have been had I not had the chutzpah to leave.

Did I make the right decision? In the short term, no. However, the long-term effects are still up for debate. After I gave birth, I was glad that I didn't have to think about leaving my child in someone else's care. I was relieved that I had made my decision to put my library career on hold before the era of multiple night-wakings and round the clock nursing. I would have gone back to work had there been need to do so, and yes, I know how extraordinarily lucky I was that the family could survive on one income. I was glad to know that my colleagues who had both children and full-time salaried jobs also had parents in the area who would take care of the grandchildren.

I don't miss my library work schedule, but I do miss my colleagues. I miss talking about children's books with patrons. I miss my colleagues and I trading wacky patron stories. Oh, whoops, we didn't actually do that last bit. Really!(Uh-oh, here comes the stomache-ache.)


Photo: Pre-pregnant Alkelda in her usual reference desk attire.

You'll be dancing in the stacks

From Cursor Miner's The Library:

"The library, the library,
It's the place where books are free.
The library, the library,
(Librarians are often sex-y)."

LIBRARIANS: the COPS version

I've not yet gotten tired of videos featuring librarians as tough-talking enforcers of the peace. This skit is brought to you by the folks from Almost Live (the origin of Bill Nye the Science Guy):

LIBRARIANS

ALA Midwinter Conference 2007

Ever since I left New York, I have been looking forward to the 2007 American Library Association Midwinter Conference. I was never much of a conference goer in general, and the last time I went to ALA was in my last semester of library school. In January 2007, the conference will be in Seattle, Washington. I won't have to travel anywhere further than a short bus or car ride Downtown. I'm hoping to see friends and colleagues with whom I've lost touch, as well as fellow bloggers who happen to be traveling librarian types. I'm not an ALA member, but I'm planning on registering early. I've not decided for sure yet, but since I am currently unafilliated with a library system (yeah, I substitute, but I'm not considered a staff member), I may have "Saints and Spinners" on my badge.

[Note to potential stalkers reading this post: Back off. Now. And forever.]

The rest of you have an open invitation to hang out, eat cupcakes and gush about Stephen Colbert. Whatever else floats your boat in our drizzly little city is fine, too.

I'll bet you didn't know I had my own celebrity READ poster. Then again, neither does ALA!

Lull

This blog may be quiet for the next few days. I start guitar lessons again this week, Lucia starts preschool next week, and I want to do some research into what it would take to launch Mitzi. I'm not yet confident enough that I can use the guitar in storytimes, but I'm going to do it anyway when I go to my next library gig. I'll be doing both toddler and preschool storytimes at the end of the month. Right now, I'm just taking enough substutute hours to remind people that I still exist, but I've avoided accepting work at the grown-up information desks (with the exception of one beloved library branch with a large international community, and you know who you are). If the work doesn't involve interacting with children on a regular basis, I'm just not interested.

Speaking of children, my own offspring is jealous of the guitar. It used to be that when I practised chords, Lucia would climb up on the couch behind me and hang on my neck, often slinging a leg over my shoulder in the process. She would examine the mole on my neck and say with incredulousness, "It does't hurt!" I had a lot of weight on my shoulders while I practiced, but at least I could still play. Now, Lucia mutes the strings, attempts to push away the guitar, and wails, "Hold you! Hold you like a baby!"

Yes, preschool is starting next week.

rough and tumble

It's been a long week. I'm sorry I have not been answering comments. It's been rough with Lucia. Yes, my best girl, my dear, sweet (and highly-spiced) child, has been running me through my paces. We both had a meltdown yesterday. The day started pleasantly enough at the library where I used to work. We saw a rock and roll pirate show called Captain Bogg and Salty. Lucia was a bit ambivalent about the boistrousness of the show, but rallied enough to raise a hooked finger toward the end. She wanted to stay for Lunchtime Stories afterward. Why not, I thought. She drank her milk and ate her salty snacks while we listened to stories. (Some of the children in the audience used to be in my young toddler programs. Wow, they got big.)

Leaving the library was the problem. After attempts at persuasion and negotation, I carried 38 pounds of kicking, bellowing toddler out of the library. I struggled to get her into the car-seat, but she thrashed so much we were both in a sweat after 5 minutes. She would not keep the car-seat straps on. The last time this happened, we pulled over and said we couldn't go until she was strapped in again. The last time, though, Bede was with me, and I could sit in the back seat to hold her hands down while he drove home. This time, I was on my own. I drove 10 miles and prayed fervently that we would make it home safely. She screamed the whole way.

I was exhausted for the rest of the afternoon. Bede was able to come home and take over for awhile, bless him. Bedtime was hard, but Lucia did give me a big hug before I read her stories. Today was better. Somewhat difficult, but still better. We went to the Day Out With Thomas (TM) festival, even though we're not Thomas the Tank Engine fans, because Nancy Stewart was playing. (Brad the Gorilla said that his band, The Deadbeat Crawdads, were supposed to open for her, but later he grumbled something about getting kicked out for popping 2 crates' worth of Thomas (TM) balloons.) We got to ride on an old train through Snoqualmie, which was lovely, despite the incessant Thomas (TM) soundtrack.


Nancy Stewart in concert

This evening, I practiced guitar for 90 minutes before my developing callouses started to hurt. It was a good session. I practiced "Greensleeves," "Shady Grove" and "Cockles and Muscles". There's a tricky chord change in "Cockles and Muscles" involving D minor. I must say, I don't quite have it yet. Still, concentrating on the guitar lifted my spirits considerably. When I ended my practice, I felt better than I had in days.

Lucia went down to bed early. Bede and I watched a couple of episodes of the first season of Buffy. It was a good night. Tomorrow will be better. Mazel tov.

Fuse # 8 and the CCR*

*Not Credence Clearwater Revival

Here's a shout-out for Fuse Number 8, a children's literature blog written by a librarian at the Best Library in the World. I used to work there, so I'm biased. Here are ten of the reasons why I loved my brief stint at the Central Children's Room so much:

1) Working in the same room where Mary Poppins' umbrella was displayed.

2) When someone came in to get information on a book he or she was writing, chances were that I'd already read the author's previous works.

3) Hanging on the coat-tails of library luminaries to attend author/illustrator parties, including the 35th Anniversary of Where the Wild Things Are, and Madeleine L'Engle's 70th birthday party.

4) Walking by the display of the original Winnie-the-Pooh characters and seeing Eeyore smirking to himself.

5) Even if I never really had time to go to the Museum of Modern Art, I appreciated working across the street from MOMA.

6) Working during the time of the lovely Winnie-the-Pooh controversy.

7) Accidentally-on-purpose bumping into the cute reference librarian with the devastating smile.

8) Only having to work every other Saturday rather than 2 Saturdays in a row followed by one Saturday off, then 2 Saturdays in a row again. (Argh!)

9) Raiding the Annex for extra copies of books that patrons would otherwise have to wait days to receive.

10) My colleagues. I miss my colleagues.

No snickering in the library...

...unless you're hooked on Unshelved.--Seattle Times article

I love this comic strip. As Bill Barnes, the co-creator of Unshelved points out, Dewey (the young-adult librarian) says the things people in service jobs think while they're smiling and helping out patrons who are having "difficult" days.

I preorder all of the Unshelved books. One book has is autographed with a picture of Tamara, the children's librarian, performing jujitsu on an unsuspecting patron. My latest volume has a sketch of The Shusher next to the autograph. I have a "What happens in storytime stays in storytime" tee-shirt, but have refrained from getting the "Book Club" shirt simply because I am a poor attendee of book clubs.

By the way, regarding "one of their spiels [that] involves an image of children's librarians as idealistic souls who jump and clap their hands when they're happy," I have just one thing to say in response:

Yeah, what of it?!

***
From the Unshelved website: Article Errata: It used to be true that 90% of our readers work in libraries, but these days we've gone more mainstream. That number is down to about 75%, which with 30,000 readers means a solid 7,500 of you need another excuse to be enjoying our brand of humor. And that photo of Gene and me? That was our "goofing off" pose. It stands to reason that was the one they chose for the article... --Bill Barnes

Chicken in the Library

What is joke-telling but another form of storytelling? I heard librarian Aarene Storms tell this chicken in the library joke at a storytelling guild meeting:

A librarian is working away at her desk when she notices that a chicken has come into the library and is patiently waiting in front of the desk. When the chicken sees that it has the librarian's attention, it squawks, "Book, book, book, BOOK!"

The librarian complies, putting a couple of books down in front of the chicken. The chicken quickly grabs them and disappears.

The next day, the librarian is again disturbed by the same chicken, who puts the previous day's pile of books down on the desk and again squawks, "Book, book, book, BOOK!"

The librarian shakes her head, wondering what the chicken is doing with these books, but eventually finds some more books for the chicken. The chicken disappears.

The next day, the librarian is once again disturbed by the chicken, who squawks (in a rather irritated fashion, it seems), "Book, book, book, BOOK!" By now, the librarian's curiosity has gotten the better of her, so she gets a pile of books for the chicken, and follows the bird when it leaves the library. She follows it through the parking lot, down the street for several blocks, and finally into a large park. The chicken disappears into a small grove of trees, and the librarian follows. On the other side of the trees is a small marsh. The chicken has stopped on the side of the marsh.

The librarian, now really curious, hurries over and sees that there is a small frog next to the chicken, examining each book, one at a time. The librarian comes within earshot just in time to hear the frog saying, "Read it, read it, read it..."