Text Leveling System

Weslandia

RDQ:	1012	Max Word/Sent	31	Total Words	929		Diff Words	456
Lex	740	Ave Word/.Sent	12	Hi Freq occurs	528	56.8%	Hi freq	142	31.1%
AR	3.6	Long Sentences	20.8	Low Freq occurs	119	12.8%	Low freq	98	21.5%

""Of course he's miserable,"" moaned
Wesley's mother.  ""He sticks out.""
""Like a nose,"" snapped his father.]]
Listening through the heating
vent, Wesley knew they were right.
He was an outcast from the
civilization around him.
He alone in his town disliked pizza
and soda, alarming his mother and the 
school nurse.  He found professional
football stupid.  He'd refused to shave 
half his head, the hairstyle worn by
all the other boys, despite his father's
bribe of five dollars.]]
Passing his neighborhood's two styles of
housing -  garage on the left and garage on the 
right - Wesley alone dreamed of more exciting
forms of shelter.  He had no friends,
but plenty of tormentors.]]
Fleeing them was the only sport he was good at.]]
Each afternoon his mother asked
him what he'd learned in school that day.
""That seeds are carried great distances
by the wind,"" he answered on Wednesday.
""That each civilization has its staple
food crop,"" he answered on Thursday.
""That school's over and I should find a 
good summer project,"" he answered on Friday.
As always, his father mumbled, ""I'm sure
you'll use that knowledge often.""]]
Suddenly, Wesley's thoughts shot sparks.
His eyes blazed.  His father was right!  He could
actually use what he'd learned that week for a 
summer project that would top all others. He 
would grow his own staple food crop
and found his own civilization!]]
The next morning he turned over a plot of 
ground in his yard.  That night a wind blew in 
from the west.  It raced through the trees
and set his curtains snapping.  Wesley
lay awake, listening.  His land
was being planted.]]
Five days later the first seedlings appeared.
""You'll have almighty bedlam on your hands it
you don't get those weeds out,"" warned his neighbor.
""Actually, that's my crop,"" replied Wesley.
""In this type of garden there are no weeds.""
Following ancient tradition, Wesley's fellow gardeners
grew tomatoes, beans, Brussels sprouts, and nothing
else.  Wesley found it thrilling to open his land
to chance, to invite the new and unknown.]]
The plants shot up past his knees,
then his waist.  they seemed to be all of 
the same sort.  Wesley couldn't find
them in any plant book.]]
""Are those tomatoes, beans,
or Brussels sprouts?' asked
Wesley's neighbor.
""None of the above,""
replied Wesley.]]
Fruit appeared, yellow at 
first, then blushing to magenta.
Wesley picked one and sliced
through the rind to the juicy
purple center.  He took a bite and 
found the taste an entrancing blend
of peach, strawberry, pumpkin pie, 
and flavors he had no names for.]]
Ignoring the shelf of cereals
in the kitchen, Wesley took to 
breakfasting on the fruit.  He
dried half a rind to serve as a 
cup, built his own squeezing
device, and drank the fruit's 
juice throughout the day.
Pulling up a plant, he found 
large tubers on the roots.  These
he boiled, fried, or roasted on the
family barbecue, seasoning them
with a pinch of the plant's highly
aromatic leaves.]]
It was hot work tending to his crop.
To keep off the sun, Wesley wove
himself a hat from strips of the plant's
woody bark.  His success with the hat
inspired him to devise a spinning
wheel and loom on which he wove 
a loose fitting robe from the stalks'
soft inner fibers.]]
Unlike jeans, which he found
scratchy and heavy, the robe was 
comfortable, reflected the sun,
and offered myriad opportunities
for pockets.]]
His schoolmates were scornful, then
curious.  Grudgingly, Wesley allowed
them ten minutes apiece at his mortar,
crushing the plant's seeds to collect the oil.
This oil had a tangy scent and served
him both as suntan lotion and mosquito
repellent.  He rubbed it on his face each
morning and sold small amounts to his
former tormentors at the price of ten
dollars per bottle.]]
""What's happened to your 
watch?"" asked his mother
one day.
Wesley admitted that he no 
longer wore it.  He told time
by the stalk that he used as a 
sundial and had divided the 
day into eight segments
the number of petals on the 
plant's flowers.
He'd adopted a new counting
system as well, based likewise
upon the number eight.  His
domain, home to many such
innovations, he named
""Weslandia.""]]
Uninterested in traditional sports,
Wesley made up his own.  These were
designed for a single player and used
many different parts of the plant.  His 
spectators looked on with envy.
Realizing that more players would 
offer him more scope, Wesley invented
other games that would include his 
schoolmates, games rich with strategy
and complex scoring systems.  He
tried to be patient with the other
players' blunders.]]
August was unusually hot.  Wesley 
built himself a platform and took to 
sleeping in the middle of Weslandia.
He passed the evenings playing a flute
he'd fashioned from a stalk or gazing up
at the sky, renaming the constellations.]]
His parents noted Wesley's improved morale.
""It's the first time in years he's looked happy,""
said his mother.
Wesley gave them a tour of Weslandia.
""What do you call this plant?"" asked his
father.  Not knowing its name, Wesley had
begun calling it ""swist,"" from the sound of 
its leaves rustling in the breeze.
In like manner, he'd named his new
fabrics, games, and foods,
until he'd created an 
entire language.]]
Mixing the plant's oil with soot,
Wesley made a passable ink.  As the finale
to his summer project, he used the ink and 
his own eighty letter alphabet to record
the history of his civilization's founding.
In September, Wesley returned to school]]
He had no shortage of friends.]]

Subjective Criteria

Illustrations: Some support

Inferences: Several Implications

Vocabulary: Some difficult words

Language: Many descriptive words

Sentences: Multiple phrases

Text structure: Story/Poem

Complexity: Several ideas - closely related

Concepts: Concrete/Simple Social

Features

Complex Problem/Solution

Symbolism

Topic

*Plants

Inclusion

Innovation

Environment

Gardens/Gardening

Low Frequency Words

almighty	apiece	aromatic	bedlam	blunders
breakfasting	civilization	civilization's	constellations	curious
curtains	designed	despite	devise	disliked
distances	domain	entrancing	fabrics	fashioned
fellow	fibers	finale	fitting	former
founding	fruit's	gardeners	gazing	grudgingly
hairstyle	heating	highly	housing	ignoring
improved	innovations	inspired	jeans	knowing
knowledge	language	likewise	loom	lotion
magenta	miserable	morale	mortar	myriad
neighbor	neighborhood's	noted	opportunities	outcast
passable	patient	pockets	professional	project
realizing	reflected	refused	renaming	repellent
rind	rustling	scent	schoolmates	scope
scoring	scornful	seasoning	seedlings	shortage
soot	sprouts	stalk	stalks	staple
strategy	sundial	suntan	swist	tangy
throughout	tormentors	tour	tradition	traditional
tubers	uninterested	unknown	warned	weslandia
wesley	wesley's	woody