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  The man scowled at him and kept walking.

  Logan tugged on another person’s sleeve, then another. “Excuse me? Excuse me?” he cried out. But no one stopped.

  Fighting back panic, Logan tried to remember which direction he had come from. He craned his neck right and left, searching for anything that might seem familiar.

  He saw the row of factories in the distance. Black smoke spewed from their chimneys and seeped across the horizon. Even from this far away, Logan could smell soot and chemicals.

  He tried to think. Those factories had been to the west when he and Pa rode into town.

  He took off running.

  LOST!

  Logan ran as fast as his legs could carry him. His gunnysack bounced sharply against his side. His lungs and muscles hurt.

  He passed a jewelry shop . . . and a leather goods store . . . and a diner. He passed a poster that said THE IDEAL BRAIN TONIC! and another one that said COME TO DIXON’S DIME MUSEUM! He didn’t recognize any of it.

  And then Logan saw a signpost for Fifth Street and slowed his steps. Did that mean First Street was only four blocks away, after Fourth, Third, and Second Streets?

  Logan felt a flicker of hope. He remembered that the Kellys lived on First Street. Their house was white with columns. Cousin Clementine was inside, waiting for Logan to return so they could have a tea party with her dolls. . . .

  Someone bumped into him, hard. He stumbled to the ground.

  “Watch where you’re going!” an older boy yelled at him.

  Logan’s eyes filled with tears. He stood up slowly and brushed the dirt off his knickers.

  I have to get out of here, he thought. I have to find First Street. Or at least find Freddy.

  He started to run again—and stopped. He realized in alarm that he was all turned around. Had he been going this way before? Or that way? He couldn’t use the factories as a beacon anymore because a line of tall buildings blocked them from his view. Where was the sign for Fifth Street? Wasn’t that the same jewelry shop he passed a few minutes ago?

  Overwhelmed, Logan staggered over to a nearby building and sank down on the stoop. What was he going to do? Would he ever find First Street or Cousin Freddy?

  Just this morning, Sherman had seemed so new and thrilling. Now it just felt like a bad dream. The downtown was crowded and noisy, full of blaring horns and street vendors shouting over one another. The air smelled like factory smoke. The people were rude and mean.

  Suddenly, Logan missed his hometown with a longing that made his heart ache. He missed the peace and quiet. He missed the fresh air and green grass. He missed catching frogs with Anthony. He missed Tess and Ma and Annie and even Drew.

  He covered his face with his hands and began crying.

  “Logan? Is that you?” someone called out.

  Logan sniffled and then peeked through his fingers to see who it was.

  It was Freddy!

  OUT TO LUNCH

  “Logan! Am I ever glad I found you! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” said Freddy.

  “You have?” Logan swiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He didn’t want Freddy to see that he’d been crying.

  “You shouldn’t wander around the city alone. You don’t know your way, and besides, you’re liable to run into shysters and pickpockets.”

  “What are those?”

  “People who will lie to you and steal from you. Father says Sherman is full of them.” Freddy stared at Logan. “You look pretty shaken up. Here, take my handkerchief.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the linen square with the letter F on it. Logan took it and dabbed his face with it. It had a faint, familiar smell, like fresh hay and oatmeal soap. It reminded him of home and made him feel a little better.

  Freddy took Logan’s hand to help him up.

  “Now come on, let’s get you some lunch. I know a good restaurant that’s just around the corner,” Freddy said.

  Lunch at a restaurant! Logan had almost forgotten. He smiled, definitely feeling better now.

  At the restaurant, the two boys sat at the counter and ordered from a menu. It read:

  Both Logan and Freddy ordered milk, ham and cheese sandwiches, and chocolate cake. As they ate the delicious food, Logan told Freddy about the horseless carriage.

  “We sure don’t have those in Maple Ridge,” Logan finished.

  “I haven’t been to Maple Ridge in ages. What is it like these days?” asked Freddy.

  “Well . . . it’s not a big, fancy city like Sherman. But the people are nice. And our school is nice. We all helped to fix it up, so it looks practically brand new.” Logan paused and thought for a moment. “Our farm is nice too. It’s not really a farm anymore, but we have horses and cows and chickens and a vegetable garden. Oh, and we have this pond where my friend Anthony and I catch frogs. We like to go swimming there too, and sometimes my dog, Skeeter, swims with us.”

  “I wish we had a dog. Mother and Father won’t allow pets in the house,” Freddy said with a sad shrug.

  Logan frowned. No pets in the house? He couldn’t imagine his life without Skeeter.

  “Maple Ridge sounds pretty swell. Maybe I could visit later this summer?” Freddy suggested.

  “Really?”

  “Really!”

  The cousins toasted each other with their milk glasses.

  LOGAN SPENDS HIS NICKELS

  As they left the restaurant, Logan noticed a boy kneeling on the ground and polishing a gentleman’s shoes. He looked to be no more than six years old. His clothes were dirty and ragged, and he was barefoot. Next to him was a tin can with a few coins in it.

  “What is he doing?” Logan whispered to Freddy.

  “Why, he’s working, of course.”

  “He’s a little kid!”

  “In the city, many children have to work rather than go to school. Even children his age,” Freddy explained.

  “But I thought most people in Sherman were rich, like—” Logan hesitated.

  “Like our family? No. We’re very lucky that Father does well as a lawyer. Clementine and I have fine clothes and music lessons and tutors to help us with our homework. But not everyone has what we have.”

  Logan considered this. His own family was definitely far from rich. They barely scraped by on the money Pa earned from odd jobs here and there. That’s why the interview at the glass factory was so important to him.

  Still, Pa and Ma would never let their children give up school in order to work—not even Drew, who was always hankering for a full-time job.

  Logan thought for a moment. He reached into his gunnysack and got the two nickels from his coin purse. He had been saving the money to buy souvenirs for his family and Anthony and Skeeter, but they would understand.

  He dropped the nickels into the little boy’s tin cup.

  The boy glanced up at him in surprise. “Do you want your shoes shined, sir?”

  “No, it’s a present,” said Logan kindly. “And I’m not a ‘sir.’ I’m just like you.”

  THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

  Ma had just put supper on the table when Pa and Logan walked through the door.

  Skeeter jumped up to lick Logan’s face. “Hey there, boy. It’s nice to see you too!” Logan said, laughing.

  “Lolo!” Annie leapt up from her chair and threw her arms around Logan. “It took you forever to get home! I missed you! Mrs. Wiggleworth’s eye is falling off!”

  “I’ll fix it for you first thing,” Logan promised.

  Ma hugged Pa and gazed up at his face. “So? How did it go?”

  “I think it went well,” replied Pa.

  “Mr. Garrison promised to let me know by post within a week or so.”

  “And how is my dear sister?”

  “Violet and the family send their love.”

  Everyone sat down at the table and helped themselves to bacon, eggs, and fresh beans from the garden.

  Tess turned to Logan eagerly. “How was Sherma
n? Did you meet any famous people? How did Freddy and Clementine like our presents?”

  “They liked your presents!” said Logan through a mouthful of beans. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. “Clementine and I used her handkerchief to play tea party with her dolls. And Freddy says he wants to visit Maple Ridge this summer.”

  “Why would he want to come here? There’s nothing to do,” Drew pointed out.

  “There’s plenty to do!” Logan insisted. “Catch frogs, go swimming, play hoops in the backyard . . .”

  Drew pretended to yawn. “Boring!”

  “That’s what I used to think too,” said Logan. “Sherman is pretty grand. I even saw a horseless carriage there! But all in all, I think Maple Ridge is the best place in the whole entire world.”

  “A horseless carriage?” Drew, Tess, Annie, and Ma cried out at the same time.

  “Yes!”

  Logan told them all about the vehicle. He told them about his other adventures in Sherman too. As he talked, he realized he wanted to go back to Sherman someday. The next time, he would know better what to expect. He would try to enjoy the good things about the big city and accept the bad things.

  But for now, he was just happy to be home in Maple Ridge with his family and Skeeter. And he couldn’t wait to go frog catching with Anthony again!

  Check out the next

  TALES FROM MAPLE RIDGE

  adventure!

  HERE’S A SNEAK PEEK!

  Tess frowned at the sky. “The sun’s starting to go down.”

  “I guess we’d better head on home, then. Wait, where’s Skeeter?” said Logan, looking for his dog.

  Woof! Woof! Woof! They heard Skeeter’s bark coming from the forest next to the creek. Logan marched into the woods to look for him. Tess and Anthony followed. Just then Skeeter burst out of a thicket of witch hazel shrubs.

  “Where have you been?” Logan asked.

  Skeeter barked, spun around, and ran back into the shrubs.

  “Skeeter! Wait!” Logan ordered.

  The children ran after Skeeter.

  “What is it, boy?” asked Logan.

  Skeeter pointed his nose to the sky. Logan followed his gaze.

  A flash of white rippled through the highest branches of the tree.

  “D-did you see that?” Logan stammered.

  “I think it was a ghost!”

  GRACE GILMORE

  is a city girl, but she has always been fascinated by farm life. Growing up, she spent many summers riding horses, chasing chickens, and swimming in the creek at her great-grandparents’ farm in the hollows of Kentucky. When she isn’t writing books, she can be found playing the piano, baking cookies, or wrangling various pets. Grace lives with her family in Ithaca, New York.

  PETRA BROWN

  lives at the foot of Mount Snowdon near the little Ffestiniog railway, in the beautiful country of North Wales, United Kingdom. When she was a child, she used to love to look through books and draw the pictures herself. Now she finds that illustrating children’s books is immensely satisfying. You can visit her at PetraB.co.uk.

  Meet the authors and illustrator and activities at

  KIDS.SimonandSchuster.com

  authors.simonandschuster.com/Grace-Gilmore

  authors.simonandschuster.com/Petra-Brown

  TalesfromMapleRidge.com

  LITTLE SIMON

  Simon & Schuster

  New York

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

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  This Little Simon edition June 2015

  Copyright © 2015 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

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  Designed by Chani Yammer

  The illustrations of this book were rendered in pen and ink.

  The text of this book was set in Caecilia.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Gilmore, Grace.

  The big city / by Grace Gilmore ; illustrated by Petra Brown. — First edition. pages cm. — (Tales from Maple Ridge ; [3])

  Summary: Logan Pryce and his father spend a day in the big city of Sherman, but despite his eagerness to leave “boring” Maple Ridge, Logan is glad to return to quiet, familiar surroundings after the hustle and bustle of the city.

  [1. City and town life—Fiction. 2. Contentment—Fiction. 3. Family life—Fiction. 4. Farm life—Fiction.] I. Brown, Petra, illustrator. II. Title. PZ7.G4372Big 2015 [Fic]—dc23 2014017735

  ISBN 978-1-4814-3007-4 (hc) ISBN 978-1-4814-3006-7 (pbk) ISBN 978-1-4814-3008-1 (eBook)