The History of Numbers by Denise Schmandt-Besserat 3

CASI 6

Reading Passages

The History of Numbers by Denise Schmandt-Besserat 3

Owls in the Family by Farley Mowat 6

Trash Attack! by Candace Savage 9

Morning Girl by MichaelDorris 14

The Gift of a Microscope byJ. McDonnell 18

The Visitor by Karleen Bradford 22

Tomb Decorations 28

Peacocks and Bandaids by Nazneen Sodiq 50

Building for the Environment by Mary Beth Leatherdale 54

Letter from the Future by Eric Lund 37

With only ten digits... we can make up any number we want.

THE HISTORY OF NUMBERS

from The History of Counting

by Denise Schmandt-Besserat

Numbers.

A number is a word that expresses "how many."

Counting is reciting numbers in order. Counting the ducklings on the pond, for example, means reciting, "One, two, three, four, five..." as each duckling swims by. The last number tells how many ducklings are on the pond.

Surprising as it may seem, people did not always have numbers. For most of their time on Earth, in fact, modern humans had no numbers. Imagine not having numbers. What would life be like without counting?

Today, numbers play an important role. We use them in many ways: they show the price of things; tell the hours of the day and the days of the month; mark the houses on the street; make it easy to find the right bus or dial the

telephone; identify cars; and tell the players of a team apart.

People of most areas of the world--including North and South America, Europe, Asia, Africa, and Australia--share the same efficient counting system. With only these ten digits 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9--we can make up any number we want.

Numerals

Signs to represent numbers are called numerals. The Sumerians had distinct signs to represent 1, 10, 60, 600, 3600, and 36 000. The remaining numbers were shown by repeating these signs. For instance, the sign for I was a long wedge, and the numbers 2 through 9 were shown by two to nine wedges. The number 10 was a circular sign, and 20 through 50 were shown by two to five circular signs. The number 60 was a large wedge. In Sumer, reading a numeral like 23 meant counting how many circles or wedges were included in the numeral.

The numbers 10 and 60 were special in Sumer, because they were bases. Bases are numbers used to create higher numbers. The Sumerian large numbers were multiplications of these numbers: 10 x 60 = 600, 60 x 60 = 3600, 60 x 60 x 10 = 36 000, Why did the Sumerians give such importance to 60? Because this number has a unique advantage: it can be divided equally in many ways. The number 60 is divisible by 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 12, 15, 20, 30, and 60. This is why we have hours of 60 minutes and minutes of 60 seconds. If one hour were divided into ten minutes, it could be divided equally in only four ways: by 1, 2, 5, and 10.

Base 10 Counting

The system of counting we use today has one base: 10. In this system,called decimal, after the Latin word for "ten"---large numbers are multiplications of 10. For example, 10 x 10 = 100, and 10 x 10 x 10 = 1000.

While the Sumerians' system of counting was remarkable for their time, it did have a drawback: it hadno zero. In other words, the Sumerians had no sign to indicate "no value." They just left a space.

This was unclear and led to difficulties in reading numbers. You can see for yourself. Look at the number 204 501. How easy is it to read without the zeros--2 4 5 1?

Although the shape of the numerals changed, the Sumerians' counting system itself was used for centuries. The Babylonians were still using it two thousand years later, around 600 B.C.

Why was such a complicated counting system used for so long? Perhaps because it is easier to follow old ways of thinking than to come up with new ways and innovate.

"You know, I don't believe that owl realizes he's an owl. I believe he thinks he's a human being."

OwlsintheFamily.

by Farley Mowat

Owls in the Family tells the story of a boy who raises two orphaned owls, whom he names "Wol" and "Weeps. "In this excerpt from the novel, Billy tries to teach the owls tofly.

By the middle of June, when they were three months old, my new pets had reached full size. Wol was a littlebigger than Weeps and stood about two feet (60 cm) high; but his wingspread was nearly five feet (1.5 m) across! The claws of both were about an inch (2.5 cm) long and as sharp as needles; and their big hooked beaks looked strong enough to open a tin can. Weeps was a normal owl colour, sort of a mottled brown, but Wol stayed almost pure white, with just a few black markings on his feathers. At night he looked like a ghost.

Although they were grown up now, neither of the owls seemed to know what his wings were for. Because they saw us walking around, they seemed to think they had to walk around too. Maybe if I had been able to fly, they would have learned to fly a lot sooner; but the way things were, both owls tried to do what we kids did. They saw us climbing trees, and so they took to climbing trees.

It was pretty silly to watch Wol climbing. He used to really climb. First he'd jump up to a low branch and then he'd use his

beak and his claws to half-lift himself and half-shinny to the next branch. My pigeons used to circle around sometimes and watch him. They must have thought he was crazy. People sometimes thought so too. One day Wol was climbing a poplar in our front yard when a man and a woman stopped on the sidewalk and watched him, with their mouths open.

Finally the man said to me: 'What on earth's the matter with that bird? Why doesn't he fly to the top of the tree?"

"He can't fly, sir," I replied. "He never learned how."

The man looked at me as if I were crazy too, and walked off without another word.

The day Wol actually learned to fly was one I'll remember for a long time. He had climbed a cottonwood in the back yard and had got way out on a thin little branch, and couldn't get back. You never saw an owl look so unhappy. He kept teetering up and down on the end of the branch, and Hoo-hoo-HOOING at me to come and get him out of his fix.

Dad and Mother came out to see what was going on, and they started to laugh; because who ever heard of a bird that couldn't get itself down out of a tree? But when people laughed at Wol, it hurt his feelings and upset him.

What with the laughter, and the fact that it was suppertime and he was hungry, Wol got careless. Finally he teetered a little too far forward and lost his balance.

"Hoo-HOOOOOO!" he shrieked as he bounced through the branches toward the ground. Then, all of a sudden, he spread his wings; and the next thing any of us knew, he was flying ... well, sort of flying. Not having done it before, he didn't really know what he was doing, even then.

You could tell he was just as surprised as we were. He came swooshing out of the tree like a rocket, and he seemed to be heading straight for me; but I ducked and he pulled up and went shooting back into the air again. He was still hoo-hooing like mad when he stalled and slid back, downward, tail-first, and hit the ground with an awful thump.

By that time I was laughing so hard I had to lie on the grass and hold my stomach. When I looked up at last, it was to see Wol stomping into his cage. He was furious with all of us, and I couldn't persuade him to come out again until the next day.

At supper that night, my father said, 'You know, I don't believe that owl realizes that he's an owl. I believe he thinks he's a human being. You'll have to educate him, Billy."

It wasn't quite as bad as that. Wol eventually did learn to fly pretty well, but he never seemed to like flying, or to trust it. He still preferred to walk wherever he was going.

Weeps never learned to fly at all. I tried to teach him how by throwing him off the garage roof, but he wouldn't try. He would just shut his eyes, give a hopeless kind of moan, and fall like a rock without even opening his wings. Weeps didn't believe he could fly, and that was that.

At first glance, an empty milk carton may seem like a useless piece of junk, but look again!

Trash Attack !

by Candace Savage.

You are about to read something disgusting. In just one year, most people throw away about 80 cans full of garbage. Eighty big stinking garbage cans, cram-jammed, packed to the brim.

We're not talking about 80 cans for each family. It's 80 for each member of the family. Eighty garbage cans, placed side by side, would probably cover the floor of your living room.

The things we put in the garbage originally came from the Earth. Every time you throw away a piece of paper, for example, you are throwing away a tiny bit of forest. Maybe it was a twig where a bird liked to sing or a leafy branch that made shade for a wood violet.

The next time you go to throw away a piece of paper, think about all the energy it took to make a tree into that sheet of paper.

Trash Times-Table.

To find out how many garbage cans you may have filled in your life, take your age and multiply by 80; or look up the answer on this chart. You can also use the chart to do a Trash Tally for your parents or friends. How much garbage will you likely create if you live for 80 years?

The Solutions.

"Bigger!" "Faster!" and "More!" are not words that we can live by. Our throw-away habits are changing the Earth too much, too quickly. The good news is that we don't have to do it anymore.

There are three words that will help us to live in a better way. They are called the "3 Rs": Reduce! Reuse! and Recycle!

Reduce!

Reduce means to buy less and throw less away. The best way to cut

down on the amount we waste is to stop buying things we don't need in the first place. This means that we have to pay attention when we go to the store.

Packages--the bags, boxes, bubbles, buckets, jars, and fins that things come inmate a big source of waste. If you sorted the garbage in your trash can, about half of it would be packaging. In a year, you may fill 40 garbage cans with packaging alone.

Reuse!

The second-best way to cut down on garbage is as easy as the first.Instead of throwing things out, reuse them.

All kinds of things can be saved and used agalnmyogurt tubs, jam jars, plastic bags, old rags, gift wrap, buttons, nails, wire, and string. Torn jeans can be mended or cut off to make a pair of shorts. Broken bicycles can be fixed. Clothes and toys that you've outgrown can be given to younger friends, or to someone else who needs them. You might even be able to sell them at a yard sale or second-hand store.

Sometimes, in order to reuse things, we have to see them in a new way. At first glance, an empty

Rules for Reducing
DO buy large-sized packages. (One big package makes less garbage than two small ones. It also usually costs less.)
DO shop for quality. Buy things that are made to last.
DO rent or share things you seldom use.
DO buy things "loose" instead of in packages.
DON'T buy things you don't really want or need.
DON'T buy things that can't be fixed.
DON'T buy things that were made to throw away, such as disposable cameras and pens that won't take refills.
DON'T eat in restaurants that use disposable dishes.
DON'T buy anything that has too much packaging.

A milk carton can be reused as a bird feeder.

milk carton may seem like a useless piece of junk, but look again! With a little work, it could become a plant pot or a bird feeder.

Reuse and Win.

Hold a contest at school to see who can make the following things out of materials saved from the garbage.

Shop at second-hand stores for silly prizes. Have fun!

• the best costume

• the most interesting toy

• the most enjoyable game

• the most useful item

• the most tuneful musical instrument

THE GARBAGE GLOSSARY.

Recycling: Saving used materials and sending them off to be remade into useful goods. Reduce: Buying less and throwing less away.

Reusing: Fixing and changing things we already have so that we can use them again.

Recycle!

If you can't leave the garbage at the store and can't use it anymore, then recycle. Recycling is a kind of manufacturing that turns garbage, such as newspapers, aluminum cans, and glass jars, into things we can use.

Thinking about a big problem like garbage sometimes makes usfeel very small. "People are throwing things out everywhere, all the time," you may think. "How can one little person change it all?"

But what you do is important. Many people, working together, can make things change. You are not alone. Millions of people, all around the world, are working to keep the Earth green and growing.

Refuse to Make Refuse.

Here are some things that you can do to make recycling work.

• If recycling has begun in your community, find out how it works. Your friends and neighbours may know. If not, call city hall.

• If there is no recycling where you live, maybe it's time there was. Talk to your parents, friends, teachers, and group leaders.

• When you prepare materials for recycling, follow the rules carefully. Rinse containers. Remove staples and paper clips from paper. Tie paper with twine, not plastic cord.

• Look for recycled paper and other products in the store.

• Choose food in paper packages instead of plastic. Egg cartons and cardboard trays are often made from recycled paper.

• Try not to buy products that cannot be recycled.

Suddenly I saw two tiny girls looking back.

MorningGirl.

by Michael Dorris.

The water is never still enough. Just when I can almost see my face, when my eyes and my nose and my mouth are about to settle into a picture I can remember, a fish rises for air or a leaf drops to the surface of the pond or Star Boy tosses a pebble into my reflection and I break into shining pieces. It makes no sense to him that I'm curious about what people see when they look at me.

"They see you," he said, as if that answered my question. We were searching for ripe fruit on the trees behind our house.

"But what is me?" I asked him. "I wouldn't recognize myself unless I was sitting on the bottom of a quiet pool, looking up at me looking down."

'You are ... you." He lost his patience and walked away to find his friend Red Feathers.

But what did 'you" mean? I knew my hands very well. I study them when I trim my nails with the rough edge of a broken shell, making them smooth and flat. I could spread my fingers and press them into wet sand to see the shape they leave. Once I tried to do that with my head, but all I got was a big shallow hole and dirty hair.

I knew the front of my body, the bottoms of my feet. I knew the colour of my arms-tan as the inside of a yam after the air had dried it-and if I stretched my tongue I could see its pink tip.

'Tell me about my face," I asked Mother one day when we were walking along the beach.

She stopped, turned to me in confusion. "What about your face?"

"Is it long and wrinkled, like Grandmother's, or round as a coconut, like Star Boy's? Are my eyes wise like yours or ready to laugh like Father's? Are my teeth crooked as the trunks of palm trees?"

Mother cocked her head to the side and made lines in her forehead. "I don't think I've ever looked at you that way," she said. "To me you've always been yourself, different from anyone else."

"But I want to know," I begged her. Mother nodded. "I remember that feeling. Try this." She took my hand and guided it to my neck. 'Touch," she told me. "Very softly. No, close your eyes and think with your fingers. Now compare." She placed my other hand on her face, the face I knew better than any other.

I traced the line of her chin. Mine was smaller, pointier. I followed her lips with one thumb, my own with the other. Hers seemed fuller.

"Your mouth is wider," I cried, unhappy with myself. "That's because I'm smiling, Morning Girl."

And suddenly my mouth was wide, too, and my cheeks were hills on either side. Next I found the lashes of our eyes, then moved above them. Even without watching, I could see the curved shape of Mother's dark brows. They made her look surprised at everything, surprised and delighted.