Tales From The Glades Of Ballymore
Page 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Dedication
A Note To Parents
Reader's Guide
The Months
List of Illustrations
Ballymore Residents - 1891
The Prologue
Chapter One - March Winds
Weather Coming
The Doctor's Visit
The Storm
A Bad Flight
Kite Building
Kite Flying
Chapter Two - Spring Creations
The Garden
The Deliveries
Sam
Setting The Keel
Chapter Three - Mrs. Porcupine's Garden
Water, Water?
Finn's Project
The Flood
A New Plan
Chapter Four - Midsummer's Eve
The Letter
The Launch
The HMS Ballymore
Chapter Five - The Expedition
Planning, Planning
The Adventure
The Cave
Chapter Six - The Pond Creature
The Launching Tree
Meeting Sam
Remembrance Day
Chapter Seven - The Bell Tower
Into The Woods Again
Fog & More
The Hawk
A Cottage For Sam
Chapter Eight - The Weasels' Halloween
Frogs Fly
"You've Been Weaseled"
Preparations
Halloween
Chapter Nine - Unexpected Visitors
The Visitors
The Next Trip
The Well
Negotiations
Chapter Ten - December Holidays
The Holiday Kitten
Winter Solstice Eve
The New Library
Chapter Eleven - Wild Winter
A New Year
The Snowball Fight
Ice!
Chapter Twelve - The Gift
The Final Puzzle
The Final Hunt
The Revelation
The Epilogue
Ballymore Residents-1892
Reader's Guide
TALES FROM
THE GLADES OF BALLYMORE
by Bob Brooks
Illustrations by
Karen Ross Ohlinger
V1.18
Copyright © 2012 by Robert N. Brooks
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author, Robert N. Brooks.
First eBook Edition: January 2012
The characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
I wish to thank Selma Boot and Karen Ohlinger for their editing comments.
This book is dedicated to
Charlotte V. Brooks
Who passed away on Memorial Day, 2007
She, also, was an avid lover of nature and animals
In this book my goal was to use vocabulary appropriate for 8-11 year olds. Also, the book is based upon the moral and religious concept of The Golden Rule. If you are reading the book to younger children, you may choose to explain some words or thoughts to them.
One of the purposes of this book is to present another opportunity for you to interact with your children on a meaningful level. I have included a brief Reader’s Guide at the end. You may find it useful in discussing the book.
Another purpose of the book is to reintroduce the magic of childhood to those willing to open their hearts and minds.
Sincerely,
Bob Brooks
January 31, 2012
The Reader’s Guide is intended to stimulate thinking about what has been read. It appears at the end of the book and contains a brief list of questions for each chapter.
Also, parents and teachers may choose to use the Reader’s Guide to discuss the book with children.
Of course, it can be ignored entirely.
January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes sharp and shrill,
Shakes the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Brown October brings the pheasant,
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves go whirling past.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire and Christmas treat.
Sara Coleridge (1802-1852)
Map Of Ballymore - March 1891
Grenby’s Flags
Bluebirds Rescuing The Chipmunks
Rachel Meets Sam
Mud And Mole Geyser
HMS Ballymore On Midsummers Eve
Luminous Underground Lake
Sam Rescuing The Chipmunks
The Bell Tower
Sinking The Frogs
“Rats” Chase Finn Up The Well
The New Library
The Ice Dam
The Gift
Bartholomew Owl is the beloved councillor of Ballymore. He has lived in his treehouse, on the north shore of Ballymore pond, for many years.
Brigit Badger (Dr. Brigit) is the Ballymore doctor and specializes in herbal medicine. She lives next to Bartholomew.
Petunia Porcupine lives on the northwest shore next to Dr. Brigit. She grows fruits and vegetables in her large garden and orchard. She also makes scrumptious baked goodies.
Wilde and Wilder Weasel are brothers. They are the mischievous, unofficial security guards for Ballymore and live on the west shore.
Malcolm and Maeve Mole and their children, Melrose and Merwin, live on the southwest shore. They dig tunnels, foundations, and other excavations.
Grenby Groundhog is Ballymore’s eccentric weather forecaster for nine months a year (he sleeps the other three). His small hut is next to the moles’ cottage.
Reginald and Rhonda Rabbit and their children, Robbie, Rachel, and Rain, live on the south shore. They assemble beautiful flower baskets and bouquets from their large flower garden. Reginald is the Ballymore tailor.
Sedgewick and Sofie Squirrel and their children, Shane and Seely, live on the south shore next to the rabbits. They construct roofs for Ballymore cottages and other buildings.
Charles and Cheryl Chipmunk and their children, Colin, Conner, and Craig are helpers. They will help with almost anything if they are not playing They live next to the squirrels on the south shore.
Farley and Fionna Frog and their children, Finnilly (Finn) and Faith, live on the southeast shore. They are the wonderful Ballymore artists. Finn is a pal of the weasels.
Burton and Beatrice Beaver, and their children, Birch, Birk, and Belva, build the excellent Ballymore cottages and other structures. They live across the creek from the
frogs on the southeast shore.
Morris Muskrat builds furniture for the residents and lives on the northeast shore. He is one of Bartholomew’s best friends.
Bartley and Bree Bluebird and their children, Branna, Britt, and Brie operate the very efficient Ballymore messenger service. Their treehouse is next to Morris on the northeast shore.
Devon and Dahlia Duck and their children, Declan, Darma, and Dierdre, transport goods and residents around Ballymore on their raft. They live on the east end of the island.
Stoddard and Sean Swan procure needed goods for the residents from afar. They live in the center of the island.
NOTE: The setting for this book is Ireland in 1891. You may notice that some of the animals in the book do not normally live in Ireland. However, when you get to know them, I’m sure that you will agree they are special. They can live where they choose. How Ballymore was founded, many years earlier, is a story for another time.
The thoughtful owl gazed out over Ballymore pond as he has done many times previous. It was just before midnight 0n the final night of February. A bright moon was rising to highlight the wavelets on the water. As the pond responded to a cool north breeze, the changing light patterns danced across the surface of the water. The moonlight also outlined the island near the center of the pond. Spring had not yet arrived in Ballymore. Save for the wind, there was a peaceful silence.
Bartholomew, as he was known, firmly gripped the branch of the oak tree on which he perched. He was careful not to injure the bark with his sharp talons. Over the years, he had developed a warm and mutually beneficial relationship with the tree. Since his arrival, the pesky bugs, which had long annoyed the tree, were gone. The tree provided a safe place for his cozy home. More than once it had arranged its branches to protect it from storms.
He has lived in the old tree for many years, and his small treehouse was only a few feet away. It was built with wood from another oak tree that hadn’t survived a winter storm. With much help from his beaver and squirrel friends and more than a few hammered tails, it sat securely in the main crook of the tree about twenty feet above the forest floor.
The treehouse was modest with only three rooms, a parlor, kitchen, and bedroom. A small stone fireplace sat in one corner of the parlor. A large, pillowy rocking chair faced it. Along one wall was his library with books on nearly every subject. Along another were paintings of Ballymore and his friends. The wooden furnishings in his home were comfortable but not fancy. The bedroom had only a large chest of drawers and a small but very soft bed. The kitchen was full of pots and pans and cooking gadgets. Each morning he used a wooden bucket-n’-pulley system to hoist cool water from the pond through a hole in the kitchen floor. Of course, the hole was covered when not being used.
Near the foot of the tree, he had a root cellar filled with every type of food and herb on which he could get his talons. It was securely locked to keep away prying paws. Although, it was unlikely that anyone from Ballymore would take anything, except perhaps Wilde and Wilder, the weasels.
Bartholomew was content as he watched the slow moving pond water. He felt the gentle breeze and listened to the silence. A soft scent from the pines was in the air. He enjoyed the peaceful time away from his many responsibilities. Nature moved at a steady, even pace and would not be rushed. Bartholomew realized that many years ago and has taken advantage of that knowledge ever since.
Does Bartholomew have responsibilities? Oh, yes. As the oldest and most educated animal in Ballymore, he was often asked for advice and guidance. Over the years, he has come to love this role, and he felt a sort of calling to watch over his “sheep”.
In this book you will meet the lovable animal residents of Ballymore and read of their adventures. This is also part of your own adventure. I sincerely hope you enjoy Tales From The Glades of Ballymore.
CHAPTER ONE
March Winds
It was Bartholomew’s custom to circle the shoreline of Ballymore pond every night after midnight if the weather permitted. That way, he assured himself that all of the animal residents were safe and sound in their homes. He could then retire in peace.
March 1st the weather was fine indeed as he made his usual rounds. He was a large mottled brown owl with powerful wings. When the wind allowed, he skillfully used those wings to glide for long stretches. Tonight, there was only a light breeze. As he flew just above the treetops, his golden eyes had a good view of the dark pond and countryside.
Ballymore pond was located deep in the Irish countryside. It was one-half mile long and one-quarter mile wide. A small, narrow island sat near the middle. There was no finished path around the pond, but the shoreline could be walked or hopped in about an hour and a half. It was fed by a warm underground spring, and the clear water exited by means of a small creek at the southeast end. Most of the animals had their small stone cottages or treehouses scattered along the shore. A few lived on the island.
The shoreline was forested with fragrant pines. A few hundred feet back from the water, small fields and glades mingled with numerous oaks, birches, elms, and hazels. The animals rarely ventured beyond that point. More woods and fields continued into the distance.
To the north The Hills rose above the trees. Their elevation was several hundred feet above the pond, and typically, the wind was much stronger there. They were mostly grass and heather covered. Strewn boulders dotted the landscape. A few unexplored caves hid in The Hills, and legend has it that one of them leads to an underground lake. Although wild and rough, they were very beautiful.
About ten miles to the south, Waterford hamlet rested beside the same creek that flowed from Ballymore pond. The creek meandered through the woods and eventually found its way to and through the hamlet. As far as we know, there has never been contact with the people that live there. Nonetheless, it has played an important role in the life of the Ballymore residents. The hamlet had an old stone church. From the top of its tall bell tower, a large bronze bell pealed over the hills and valleys every hour. The animals couldn’t tell time, but Bartholomew patiently taught them how to count the bongs. So, in a sense, they could tell time. He also taught them how to read a calendar, and everyone had one in their home. Although, some were last year’s.
Map Of Ballymore - March 1891
Bartholomew preferred to circle the pond counterclockwise. It was an old habit. He liked habits because they helped keep everything in order. Whenever he flew over the pond, he looked for anything unusual. There had been a recent sighting of the “Pond Creature” as it was called by some. As usual, the description was vague: large, dark, and scary. He had never seen anything, and tonight was no exception. All was peacefully quiet, and he looked forward to his soft bed. However, as he approached the northeast shore, he noticed a lighted window in one cottage. It was the home of Morris Muskrat, the furniture maker and an old friend.
Bartholomew landed, quietly, on the front porch. Through the window, he could see Morris sitting at his dining table. After folding his wings, he walked to the wooden door and knocked.
Morris answered from within, “Come in, it’s open.”
Bartholomew entered. The dining room was dimly lighted by a single oil lamp. There were a few pieces of partially finished furniture on the floor. There was also a partially finished dinner on the table.
Morris had on a well-worn bathrobe and looked neither healthy nor happy. He was not as old as Bartholomew, but tonight he looked older. His eyes were droopy, and his fur was dull.
“Good evening, I saw your light on, and I thought I would enquire.”
Morris looked over at Bartholomew and replied, “Hello, Bart. I was just sitting here thinking about some things.”
“Is there anything I can help with, old friend?” asked the owl as he sat down at the table.
After a pause Morris spoke slowly. “I’ve not been feeling well recently. I don’t have the energy I used to have. I’m not able to do everything that needs doing. Also, the kite contest is only three weeks away.
”
Every March the community held a kite flying contest, and Morris was responsible for building the kites.
“You do look a little pale. Have you seen Dr. Brigit?”
“No,” answered Morris.
“How long have you felt poorly?” asked Bartholomew.
“About a month.”
“I know you are trying to avoid seeing her. None of us likes going to the doctor, but it is the best thing to do. Most of the time, she will be able to help. Please go and see Dr. Brigit in the morning.”
Morris looked down at the table.
“Of course, you’re right,” he said quietly. “I’ve been brooding over this for too long, and it’s time I did something about it. As always, you’re the bearer of good advice.”