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bylvesterand the
Mugic Pebble
by WILLIAM STEIG
MOORESTOVJN LIBRARYMioRESiowr.J. N.J. 08057-2490
\\-inchnill Books Simon and Schuster
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Sylvester Duncan lived rvith his mother and
Acorn Road in Oatsdale. One of his hobbies was
pebbles of unusual shape and color.
father at
collecting
?ri? 44
In all his young lifeSylvester had neverhad a wish gratiffed soquickly. It struck himthat magic must be atwork, and he guessed
that the magic must bein the remarkableJook_
ing red pebble. (Whereindeed it was.) To makea test, he put the pebbleon the ground and said,"I wish it would rainagain." Nothing hap_pened. But when hesaid the same thingholding the pebble inhis hoof, the sky tumedblack, there was light_ning and a clap of thun_der, and the rain cameshooting down.
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"What a lucky day
this is!" thought Sylves-
ter. "From now on I can
have anything I want.
My father and mother
can have anything they
want. My relatives, my
friends, and anybody at
all can have everything
anybody wants!"
He wished the sun-
shine back in the sky,
and he wished a warton his left hind fetlock
would disappear, and itdid, and he startedhome, eager to amaze
his father and mother
with his magic pebble.
He could hardly wait tosee their faces. Maybe
they wouldn't even be-
lieve him at ffrst-
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As hc was crossing Strarvbcrry llill, thinking o{ some o{the many, many thilgs hc could rvish for, he was startled tosee a mcan, hungry lion looking right at hirn from behindsone tall grass. He was frightcned. If he hadn't been so
friglrtened, he could havc made the lion disappear, or hecould have wished hirnself safe at home rvith his fathcr and
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FIe could have wished the lion ivould tum into a butter-fly or a daisy or a gnat. He could have wished n.rany things,but he panicked and couldn't think carcfully.
"I wish I were a rock," he said. and he became a rock.
The lion came bounding over, snified the rock a hun-dred times, walked around and around it, and went awayconfused, perplexed, puzzled, and bovildered. "I saw thatlittle donkey as clear as day. Ivlaybe Iin going crazy," hcmuttered-
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,\rtl ihere u'us Sylrestlr.. rr r.or,li ou Slrlrilxr.rv llill.urith thc nragic peirl;ir: 1,,irg riglit lx'siclc liirrr on thc grourrd.antl ht: rvas rrnubli: [o pick it up. 'Oh. luru, I *,ish I l,crerrrvsclf agairr." hc tluruglrt. but rrollring happr:lecl. IIc lradlo be touchirg thc 1x'bble to rrrrrkc ihc ntagic lor.k. llrl thcrcrrvns rothing ]rr: coultl clo about it.
llis thorrellts ltcgrn to r.acre lilic rrrrcl. I:lc *,as scarcdirrd .,rllit'cl. Bt:irrg lrtllitss. hc {clt ho':.,lcss. }1c irirgiru:cl
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a1l thc possibiiitics. alcl crcuLuallr Lt: r,r:alizecl tllit lris or.ilv,l',rrr,, ,,1 1,,.,,r,ri,,r: Lir.,.tj ,-,i,r ,,,,. t,rr- *,,.,,,,,,. Lo Ii,^lt1.c r.l p, l,l,l, r,,,i i,, r, i.t, r',.,t t1,,, rrr.t. ,,,.r1 ,,, ,, ',,,,,,,,,l" .r ,1,,',k",,. s,,r,rc,,,,, ,rurriri ,;r.,.lr lirrrl r1,,.r.,.1 |, Ll,j, _ ituas so lrright arrd slilr -brit ryhlt orr earth n.oulil rrraiiclLcnr rrislr that a locl. lr:rc a clolkc_.r ? .l.lii: chairct las r;,,r,in a iril]ion al br:st
Sr h,-rslc,r lcll aslcr.p. l\,Let clsr: corrlcl he clo? \iglrt cariren'ith rrraiit'star.s.
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trIeanl'hilc. birck at lulnc. \Ir. rrncl \Irs. l)uncar paccd
thc floor, {rarrlic with \\on\'. S_vlvester hacl nt:r'er cornc homc
latcr than dinncr tiure. 'r\'hcrc coulcl hr: ltc? 'fhev stnl,cd upal) right rvonclcring rvhat hacl happcrrtxl, t:rpccting tliat Syl-
vcstel would surcl;' turn up by ritorrring. But he <lidrr't, o{
coulsc. \lrs. I)uncan criecl a lot ald \'Ir. Duncan ditl his br:st
to soothe her. Both longecl to have tht'ir.clt:ar son rvith thcnr."l l'ill level scold Syh'estcr agail ns long as I live," said
\,Irs. I)Lrncan. "lo lriattc. rvltat hc does."
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il rAt darvn, the1, went about inquiring of all the neighbors.
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They talked to all the children - the puppies, the kit-tens, the colts, the piglets. No one had seen Sylvester sincethe day before yesterday.
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They rvcnt to thc police,
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The police could not find their
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All the clogs in Oatsdale rverrt sciirching {or hirli. Theysnifi:d behind evcr1. rock and trec and bladc oI grass, intocvcry nook and grrllv ol thc rreighborhooci anci bcyorrcl, but
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found not a scent of hirn. They sniffed the rock on Strax',berry Hill, but it srnellcd like a rock. It didn't sncll likcSvh'ester.
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After a month of searching the same places over and
over again, and inquiring o{ the same animals over and over
again, Mr. and Mrs. Duncan no longer knew what to do.
They concluded that something dreadful must have hap-
pened and that they would probably never see their son
again. (Though all the time he was less than a mile away.)
They tried their best to be happy, to go about their
usual ways. But their usual ways included Sylvester and they
were always reminded of him. They were miserable. Lifehad no meaning for them any more.
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Night followed day and day follorvecl night over andover again. Sylvester on the hill woke up less and less often.When he was arvake, hc was only hopeless and unhappy.
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IIc felt he would be a rock forever and hc triecl to get usedto it. Hc wcnt into an endlcss slecp. .l'he
d;rvs grerv colder.Fall carne with thc lcaves changing color. Then the lcavesfell and the grass bent to thc ground.
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Then it was winter. The winds blew, this way and that.It snowed. Mostly, the animals stayed indoors, living on thefood they had stored up.
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One day a wolf sat on the rock that was Sylvester and
howled and howled because he was hungry.
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Then the snows rnelted. The earth warmcd up in thespring sun and things budded.
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Leaves rvere on t]re trccs again. Florvers shorved their
young faces,
One day in May, N'Ir. Duncan insisted that his wife go
rvith him on a picnic. "Let's cheer up," he said. "Let us try to
live again and be happy even though Sylvester, our angel, is
no longer rvith us." They went to Strawberry Hill.
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Mrs. Duncan sat dorvn on the rock. The warmth of hisown mother sitting on him I'oke Sylvcster up from his deepwinter sleep. How he rvanted to shout. "Mother! Father! It'sme, Sylvester, Iir.r right herel" But hc couldn't talk. He hadno voice. He was stone-dumb.
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Mr. Duncan rvalked airnlessly about while \{rs. Duncan
sct out the picnic food on the rock alfalfa sandrviches,
picklcd oats, sassafras salad, timothy conpote. Suddcnly Mr.
Duncan sarv the red pebble. "Wllat a fantastic pcbble!" he
exclaimed. "sylvester would have loved it for his collection."
He put the pebble on the rock.
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{ceq slq uo Suqser alqqad aql teql pazllear puq aq ,{1uo g1
'l,uplnoc aq tnq 'lnoqs o1 palue,n ;a1se,r1,(S ..iur€ I '.ure I,,
...{eare .re; }ou pue e^{e 11ps s1 ra1sa,r1,,{g
reeP rno l"ql Sulaal lsa8uBrts aql c^eq 1,, ','(luappns pres
sqs ..:raql"d '^\ou{ notr,, luauallcxa snorrals,(ut aulos lloJuecunq 'srliyaq .(lqrssod pFoc {cor B su,t,r l?qt ,{a{uop € sp
a{€,tr? epl^\ sB ,{\ou sr?,r\ ralse^1,{S l"a ol u,rop }Bs FaqJ,
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"Oh, how I wish he were here with us on this lovely May
day," said Mrs. Duncan. Mr. Duncan looked sadly at theground. "Don't you wish it too, Father?" she said. He looked
at her as if to say, "How can you ask such a question?"
Mr. and Mrs. Duncan looked at each other with great
sorrow_
"I wish I were myself again, I wish I were my real self
again!" thought Sylvester.
And in less than an instant, he was!
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You can imagine the scene thatbraces, the kisses, the questions, the
looks, and the fond exclamationsl
followed - the em-
answers, the loving
fri':r
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