Sam the Man & the Chicken Plan: Volume 1 - Tapa blanda

Acerca del autor

Frances O’Roark Dowell is the bestselling and critically acclaimed author of Dovey Coe, which won the Edgar Award and the William Allen White Award; Where I’d Like to Be; The Secret Language of Girls and its sequels The Kind of Friends We Used to Be and The Sound of Your Voice, Only Really Far Away; Chicken Boy; Shooting the Moon, which was awarded the Christopher Award; the Phineas L. MacGuire series; Falling In; The Second Life of Abigail Walker, which received three starred reviews; Anybody Shining; Ten Miles Past Normal; Trouble the Water; the Sam the Man series; The Class; How to Build a Story; and most recently, Hazard. She lives with her family in Durham, North Carolina. Connect with Frances online at FrancesDowell.com.

Amy June Bates has illustrated books including the Sam the Man series; Sweet Dreams and That’s What I’d Do, both by singer-songwriter Jewel; and Waiting for the Magic by Patricia MacLachlan. She is the author-illustrator of The Big Umbrella, about which Booklist raved, “A boundlessly inclusive spirit...This open-ended picture book creates a natural springboard for discussion.” She lives in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, with her husband and three children.

Fragmento. © Reproducción autorizada. Todos los derechos reservados.

Sam the Man & the Chicken Plan

A Job for Sam

Sam Graham wanted a job.

Everyone else in his family had a job. His dad did something with computers, and his mom did something with clients, and his sister, Annabelle, who was twelve, mowed lawns.

“Twenty bucks a pop,” Annabelle said when she came home from a job, sweaty and flecked with little bits of grass. “Hard to beat.”

“What can I do for twenty bucks a pop?” Sam asked his mom.

“There aren’t many jobs for seven-year-olds,” his mom said. “I’ll give you a dollar to clean your room.”

Sam didn’t want a job that only paid one buck a pop.

Besides, his room didn’t need cleaning.

When Mrs. Kerner stopped by to see if Annabelle would take care of her chickens while she was away, Annabelle said she couldn’t do it.

“I have three lawns to mow this weekend,” she told Mrs. Kerner. “Hate to say it, but there’s no time for chickens.”

Sam raced over to Mrs. Kerner. He waved his arms in the air. “I’ll take care of your chickens!”

“You’re only seven,” Mrs. Kerner said. “Seven-year-olds don’t know the first thing about chickens.”

“I know they lay eggs,” Sam said, holding up one finger.

“I know they like to be around other chickens,” he added, holding up a second finger.

He tried to think of one more thing he had learned on the second-grade field trip to the farm.

Aha! He held up a third finger. “I know their poop is good for the garden.”

“Don’t say ‘poop,’ ” said Mrs. Kerner.

“I like the way it sounds,” said Sam.

“Still,” said Mrs. Kerner. “Still and all.”

She looked at Sam for a long time. “You know a lot about chickens. But you’re awfully small.”

“I’m bigger than a raccoon,” said Sam.

“I despise raccoons,” said Mrs. Kerner.

“Me too,” said Sam.

“Okay, then,” said Mrs. Kerner. “I think we can work together.”