The Lost Treasure of Tuckernuck Read Online Free PDF

fact that it used to be a real house meant that there was an old gardening supply area under the porch. And since Jack thought that every incoming Clucker should know about at least one secret hiding place, Laurie knew about the hidden supply nook. Glancing around to make sure there was no one watching, Laurie shoved Bud into the cramped space.
    Laurie pushed aside the ancient gardening implements, unclenched her fist, and slowly unrolled the (now slightly damp) scroll.
    â€œWell,” she said. “Here goes nothing.”
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    C ONGRATULATIONS , clever Tuckernuckers! Maria Tutweiler is no match for you, my friends. Well-read youngsters like you know that, as Miss Emily Dickinson said, “Hope is the thing with Feathers.” And so is our chicken friend, Hilda, the thing with feathers. So bravo, young poetry aficionados. Well done.
    Now it is time for you to make a choice. You can continue on and follow my clues wherever they may lead, or you may remain here, where you started. The choice is entirely yours. If you choose to continue on with my clues, prepare yourselves, for it will be a challenging journey. Choose wisely, and continue on to the next page.
    Happy sleuthing!
    Maria Tutweiler
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    â€œWhat the heck?” Bud was tired of reading over Laurie’s shoulder. He reached out and took the paper, shaking his head. “What the heck is that about the chicken? Hilda’s a thing with feathers? Of course she’s a thing with feathers.”
    The light was dawning in Laurie’s mind, though. “Shoot, I get it! And we just studied that last year too. Man, I’m such a dork. It’s the poem!”
    â€œWhat is?” Bud always thought of himself as more of a science-type guy.
    â€œThat line, ‘Hope is the thing with feathers.’ It’s the first line in a poem by Emily Dickinson. I knew it was something about Hope. I can’t believe I thought it was a stupid person’s name.”
    â€œYeah, well, if I’d just studied the poem, I would’ve gotten it too. Probably wouldn’t have just accidentally stumbled onto it either. Geez, it’s simple,” Bud boasted.
    Laurie glared at him. Never mind that nobody had gotten it before now. She was pretty sure that even if Bud had been an Emily Dickinson scholar he wouldn’t have solved it. But they were a team now, right? So she gritted her teeth and held her tongue.
    â€œSo we’re going on to the next page? We’re not just staying where we started, right?”
    â€œAs if.”
    Bud carefully separated the pages and turned to the second one. Squinting, he began to read aloud the spidery handwriting that once belonged to Maria Tutweiler.
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    Dear Tuckernucker, Brave and True,
    If you are reading this clue, you have demonstrated your knowledge and interest in things poetic and sublime, and your undeniable curiosity. Now I will take this test of your skills one step further. Remember, to journey on the path of understanding, you must first know what it is you wish to understand. Good luck!
    Cat! who hast passed thy grand climacteric,
    How many mice and rats hast in thy days
    Destroyed? How many tit-bits stolen? Gaze
    With those bright languid segments green, and prick
    Those velvet ears—but prithee do not stick
    Thy latent talons in me, and up-raise
    Thy gentle mew, and tell me all thy frays
    Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick.
    Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists—
    For all thy wheezy asthma, and for all
    Thy tail’s tip is nicked off, and though the fists
    Of many a maid have given thee many a maul,
    Still is that fur as soft as when the lists
    In youth thou enteredst on glass-bottled wall.
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    â€œCome on, Laurie. What the heck.” Bud broke a stick in half and threw half of it at the ground. Apparently not satisfied with the sound it made, he turned and kicked at the wooden porch supports for good measure. “It doesn’t even make sense. I