Text Leveling System

The Adventures of Vin Fiz

RDQ:	1822	Max Word/Sent	50	Total Words	2752		Diff Words	937
Lex	870	Ave Word/.Sent	14	Hi Freq occurs	1939	70.5%	Hi freq	393	41.9%
AR	4.7	Long Sentences	24.5	Low Freq occurs	251	9.1%	Low freq	184	19.6%

The Mysterious Stranger
In a time still remembered, there was a quaint little village in California called Castroville. It rested in a valley near the Pacific Ocean and was built on artichokes. Actually, they were not used to build the houses. Artichokes are too soft and do not make good building blocks. They are an edible flower head that is cooked and eaten as a vegetable. Some people like them, some do not. Some call artichokes an idiosyncrasy-a funny word that means odd behavior-because they really are a thistle with stickers whose leaves taste good only when dipped in a yummy sauce.
Every farm and family in the valley harvested artichokes ... almost every farm and family, but not all. There was one man who did not follow the beat of
an artichoke drummer. Ever Nicefolk preferred to grow exotic herbs and spices, valued for their savory taste and wonderful smells, and sell them to gourmet stores and restaurants around the country. On his little sixty-acre farm, he planted and raised licorice, spearmint, mint, figwort, ginseng and many other varieties during the growing season. The only problem was that he did not have enough land to be profitable. One bad year without rain and the Nicefolks would lose their farm.
Ever Nicefolk may sound like a curious name, but he could trace his family tree back five hundred years to an ancestor known as Knot Nicefolk, who was a highwayman in merry old England. A highwayman, you might like to know, was a bandit who held up travelers and stagecoaches. You've heard of Robin Hood, I'll bet-he was a highwayman too. Mr. Nicefolk was a serious man who seldom laughed but had twinkling gray eyes and wore a crooked smile that moved back and forth across his mouth as if unable to settle in one position. He moved and
talked slowly, traits that fooled some into thinking he was dull witted, when in fact he was very clever and smart. A good man, an honest man, he was known throughout Castroville for his dedication to growing herbs of extraordinary quality.
Ima Nicefolk was his wife and the mother of his two children. Unlike her husband, she was a jolly soul, always giggling and entertaining the children with funny games and cookies baked with sweet-tasting herbs. A small woman, she fluttered about, like a bird hopping across a lawn.
Then there were Casey and Lacey, who were ten-year-old nonidentical twins, since a boy and a girl cannot be identical. Casey was a blond boy with hair as yellow as marigolds, so his mother told everyone. He had sparkling green eyes that darted all about as if always searching for something. Lacey's hair was golden brown and gleamed like amber under the sun; she had eyes as blue as a robin's eggs.
They all lived in a two-story ranch house under a grove of palm trees without a lawn, since every inch
of open ground was devoted to raising prize herbs. The farm was known as Nicefolk Landing because it straddled the Pajaro and Salinas rivers where they ran into the ocean at Monterey Bay. It was a fun place for the children to play-water to swim and row boats in, the rivers filled with fish and turtles and frogs. There was even a nearby railroad track where they could watch the trains roll by and wave to the engineers, who tooted their steam whistles, and to the passengers, who never failed to wave back.
How they longed to board the train and see the country. Neither of the children had been more than twenty miles from the farm. The only times they got away from home were the one- or two-day camping trips they took in the surrounding countryside. There was a great, interesting world out there somewhere, and they wanted someday to see it. If only there was a way.
Casey was not overly fond of school. True, he did well, but he was more interested in exploring and building model airplanes and automobiles, of which
he had more than a hundred hanging from the ceiling of his room. He loved all things mechanical and rode around the farm on his little motorized scooter. His teachers often wrote on his report cards, much to the irritation of Mr. Nicefolk, "Casey daydreams and does not apply himself."
Lacey, on the other hand, loved school. She diligently did her homework and excelled in English and mathematics. Outside of school, Lacey created scrumptious recipes with the farm's herbs and designed furniture that Mr. Nicefolk built and sold in town after the herb seeds had been sowed.
When harvest time came, everybody pitched in to pick the herbs, which was all done by hand without machines. There were no animals on the farm, only a droopy-eyed, long-eared basset hound called Floopy. After doing his homework, Casey helped his father tend the crops while Lacey helped her mother in the kitchen. Things around the farm seemed normal enough. But lately, there was a strange feeling in the air that seemed to come from the barn.
Barns are fascinating buildings that have their own spirit and soul. This one was built by Grandpa Nicefolk's own hands from stone he had found in the nearby rivers, until the barn was bigger than the house! The sides had arched windows, and the roof had two fanciful cupolas on either end and a weather vane in the shape of an old sailing ship perched on the peak. The interior was huge and open. Beams and braces supported the typical barn roof with a flattened top half and a steep lower half. It was filled with bins where the herbs were stored after they were harvested until the family packed them into sacks for shipping to their buyers.
The scent of the herbs as they dried rose and swirled throughout the barn, mingling to create a hundred different fabulous smells that tickled the noses of all who inhaled the aromas.
People these days avoided the Nicefolk farm as if there was a hex about the place. It was a sense that something was not quite right, like when you get goose bumps on your arms. What almost no one
knew, including Mr. and Mrs. Nicefolk, was that the house and field were not hexed. It was the barn that gave off unusual vibrations after a very strange hired hand had left for the harvest season. Those who entered the barn felt their skin tingle. Ever and Ima Nicefolk simply became used to it. Only Casey and Lacey knew the barn's secret.
It all began one year earlier, when a wandering field-worker stopped at the farm. He came down the road between the herb fields, leading a donkey that pulled a small two-wheel wagon whose contents were covered by a red canvas tarpaulin. He came to a halt in the front yard, walked up on the porch and knocked on the door. Floopy came running across the porch, barking in a deep, melodious tone like a foghorn. Suddenly he stopped and walked up to the stranger, sat on his haunches, tilted his head quizzically and stared as a friendly hand stroked him between the ears.
"Most strange," said Mr. Nicefolk, who opened the front door and peered out. "That dog has never taken to a stranger."
"I have a way with animals," said the stranger softly.
"What can I do for you, friend?" asked Mr. Nicefolk.
"I'll help around the farm and work in the field if you can use a good hand."
Mr. Nicefolk shook his head. "Sorry, I can't afford to pay a hired hand. Times are hard, and I have too little acreage to make a profit."
"I won't charge you. I'll work for free except for food and a place to sleep."
Now, Ever Nicefolk was a man who took pride in tending the farm with just his wife and children, but it was an offer he could not refuse, especially since the herbs were due to be harvested in a few days and he needed every cent to feed his family. He was also two months behind on the mortgage on the farm and was afraid the bank might take his hard-worked land away, land that had belonged to his family for four generations. "Take him on," said Ima Nicefolk, studying the
stranger's body that was as skinny and gaunt as the trunk on a tall palm tree. "He doesn't look like he'll eat much."
An extra pair of hands would be welcome, thought Mr. Nicefolk. A kindly man, he took pity on the stranger, who looked as if he hadn't eaten since last Valentine's Day.
The stranger was unlike any man the twins had ever seen. He was tall, a foot taller than their father, and his rough hands with long, bony fingers hung down nearly to his knees. He was as quick in his movements as Ever Nicefolk was slow. His head turned from side to side, whipping his long gray beard back and forth like a child's swing. But his black eyes stared straight ahead with the intensity of a pair of headlights on a car.
To Lacey and Casey he looked like an under-stuffed scarecrow.
His appearance wasn't the only thing the Nicefolks found unusual about the curious stranger.
His donkey was as white as one of Mrs. Nicefolk's bedsheets, and the cart the animal was hitched to had been painted a gleaming gold.
When asked his name, the stranger replied, "I'm called Sucoh Sucop."
"That's an odd name," said Ever Nicefolk. "It's the only one I've got," answered Sucop. "You can take your meals with me and the family, but you'll have to sleep in the barn. And mind you, don't light any lanterns or candles. I don't want my barn burned down."
Sucop stared at the stone walls and shook his head. "Not much chance of that."
Ever Nicefolk nodded toward the wagon. "I'll give you room and board to bring the herbs to the barn with your wagon and mule."
Sucop smiled and patted the donkey. "Hear that, Mr. Periwinkle? These good folks are going to pay us to bring in their crops from the field."
Mr. Periwinkle lifted his head and brayed.
Then, without another word, Sucop set out for the
barn, followed by Floopy, who had taken an obvious liking to him, and Mr. Periwinkle, who pulled the cart. Lacey laughed and said, "Didn't any of you recognize his name?"
"It's dumb, that's all I know," said Casey, watching Sucop until he disappeared through the big barn door. "He's nobody I ever heard of around these parts," Mr. Nicefolk said, shrugging.
"Sucoh Sucop is hocus pocus spelled backward," Lacey said triumphantly, having outthought the rest of her family.
Mrs. Nicefolk straightened her apron. "I do declare. No wonder he turned his name around." Casey was not sure he liked the newcomer. He often thought things out for minutes, sometimes hours and even days, before making up his mind and drawing a logical conclusion. But Casey decided that Mr. Sucop posed no threat and that he would treat him with courtesy. After all, Ever Nicefolk always told his children that courtesy toward others did not cost a nickel.
A Wondrous Thing
For the next two months, Mr. Nicefolk and Sucoh Sucop harvested the herbs and carried them into the barn, then loaded the licorice, spearmint, ginseng and all the other herbs into their special bins until the barn reeked of wonderful smells. Lacey and Casey helped after school, soon becoming friends with Mr. Periwinkle, leading him to the barn with a full load of herbs in the cart and unloading it before bringing him back to the fields for another load. They spent the evening hours after homework listening to wondrous stories by Mr. Sucop, who treated them as if they were his very own children.
The days were warm and comfortable, and the weather cooperated with clear, cloudless skies with no rain, only early morning fog that drifted in during
the morning from the ocean. It was the nights that seemed mysterious. After supper, Sucop would go to the barn, where he had wired a small generator to electric lights that shone all night. Soon a mystical glow surrounded the old barn. Neighbors passing on the nearby road often commented about the peculiar phenomenon of light streaming through the barn's windows.
During his spare time when he wasn't laboring in the fields, Sucop disappeared into the barn and didn't come out until dawn. He built an enclosed shop with a large workbench in one corner of the barn. Despite their curiosity, the children were afraid to enter the barn when Sucop was inside. In fact, their father cautioned them to stay away from their field hand to respect his privacy. When they put their ears to the door, which became, oddly, locked except when the herbs were brought in and later packaged, all they could hear were unexplainable tinkling and clinking noises. Then silence, then the tinkling and clinking would resume and go on for an hour at a
time before stopping again. They could not begin to guess what their new friend was doing. Even when they were permitted to enter the barn during the workday, they found a big brass padlock on the door of the workshop in the corner with its newly built walls. Whatever was going on inside during the wee hours of the night was most puzzling to the children. They began to suspect that Sucop had a deep, dark secret he did not wish to share with the Nicefolks.
At last, when all the herbs were harvested, packaged and sent to buyers, Sucoh Sucop came to the door one morning and told Mr. Nicefolk that it was time for him to move on.
"Sorry to see you go," said Ever Nicefolk. "We'll miss you," said Ima Nicefolk.
Lacey and Casey came and stood side by side, petting Mr. Periwinkle for the last time. "Will you come back next harvest season?" asked Casey.
Sucop tugged at his long gray beard and smiled. "I never know where my travels will take me. Mr.
Periwinkle and I simply follow a road until it ends and then take another until that one ends. Should the roads take us in a circle and we arrive back here, we'll be happy to work for you again."
Ever Nicefolk tried to pay Sucop a little money as a bonus, but the man slipped both hands in his pocket, saying, "I can only take what we agreed upon, but thank you kindly." Then he looked down at Lacey and Casey. "Before I leave, there is something I'd like to show you in the barn."
Sucoh Sucop, looking very mysterious, walked into the barn with the children trailing behind him and Floopy loping beside Mr. Periwinkle. Inside, he stopped in front of the locked workshop. Then he dug into his pocket, produced a key and opened the door.
The interior was dark, but he pressed a tiny switch on the wall and the workshop was flooded with a light that shone with all the colors of the rainbow. The workshop was empty of all his paraphernalia-he had loaded all that on his cart. The
walls and workbench were clean of tools except a small copper box with two levers protruding from the top. Other than the box, all the children could see was a large, square mat on the floor that shimmered under the mystical light. Sucoh Sucop took a toy out of a pocket on his overalls and placed it on the mat. It was a small hand-carved model of his cart.
"Now watch closely," he said in a measured voice, smiling widely, "and see what you have never seen." Then he pressed the left lever on the box. Slowly, very slowly, the little toy cart glimmered and sparkled. Next came a wisp of what looked like purple smoke but was really a heavy mist. The mist swirled and whirled for nearly a minute, then began to scatter in a shower of tiny glittering stars before fading away.
Suddenly, the toy cart seemed to grow and grow until it was as big as Sucop's real cart.
Lacey and Casey's eyes were as wide as the dishes on Mrs. Nicefolk's dinner table. They stood rooted

Subjective Criteria

Illustrations: Little support

Dialog: Multiple speakers

Dialog: Broken dialogue

Dialog: Unlabeled Speaker

Vocabulary: Some difficult words

Language: Many descriptive words

Sentences: Many Long Complex

Text structure: Story/Poem

Inferences: Some implications

Complexity: Several unrelated ideas

Captions

Concept: Fanciful

Chapters

Sequence of Events: Chronological

Features

Character traits

Integral Setting - Historical

Simple Plot

Difficult names

Topic

Travel/Traveling

Magic

Danger

Airplanes

Helping

*Fictional Ideas/Charac

Low Frequency Words

acre	acreage	ancestor	arched	aromas
artichoke	artichokes	basset	bedsheets	bonus
brayed	buyers	clinking	cloudless	conclusion
contents	cooperated	courtesy	cupolas	curiosity
curious	dedication	designed	despite	diligently
eared	edible	enclosed	engineers	entertaining
excelled	exotic	exploring	extraordinary	eyed
fabulous	fanciful	farm's	fascinating	floopy
foghorn	gaunt	generations	generator	giggling
ginseng	glimmered	gourmet	grove	halt
harvest	harvested	haunches	headlights	herb
herbs	hexed	highwayman	hocus	honest
idiosyncrasy	ima	inhaled	intensity	interior
irritation	kindly	laboring	lacey's	lanterns
lever	licorice	liking	logical	longed
loping	marigolds	mathematics	measured	mechanical
melodious	mingling	model	monterey	mortgage
motorized	movements	mysterious	mystical	neighbors
newcomer	newly	nicefolk	nicefolk's	nicefolks
nonidentical	obvious	oddly	outthought	overalls
overly	pacific	packaged	padlock	pajaro
paraphernalia	passengers	peculiar	peered	perched
periwinkle	phenomenon	pocus	posed	preferred
privacy	profit	profitable	protruding	puzzling
quaint	quizzically	raising	recipes	recognize
reeked	refuse	respect	restaurants	resume
rough	sauce	savory	scarecrow	scent
scrumptious	season	seldom	shimmered	shipping
shone	shower	shrugging	skies	soul
sowed	sparkling	spearmint	spices	straddled
straightened	stranger's	sucoh	sucop	sucop's
surrounded	surrounding	swirled	tarpaulin	thistle
threat	throughout	tilted	tingle	tooted
traits	triumphantly	typical	unable	unexplainable
valued	vane	varieties	vibrations	wandering
whipping	whirled	whistles	wired	wisp
witted	wondrous	workbench	workday	workshop