The Poof Academy: Fairy Tales

By Callie Raab

A really FUN reading course? The Poof! Academy is a collection of 25 original fairy tales, each story featuring one of the common letter patterns in English, such as ea, igh, and tion. Humorous, haunting, and harrowing by turns, these tales develop reading skills, improve spelling, and boost vocabulary.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eager Reader Press
• Release date: Nov 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781943527014

Callie Raab

I was born in Minnesota and spent my childhood in the Twin Cities. Especially vivid are my memories of winter—of snowball fights and ice skating on a frozen tennis court and sledding down the steep slope of College Park. When my parents divorced, my mom, brother, and I moved to sunny California, where I went to high school and college, then taught at Seven Hills School. It had once been a ranch, so my first classroom was in a converted barn. We had cats and chickens and a peacock underfoot—and cows in our backyard. I loved making board and card games for my students to teach them numbers and letters. One day I was in a store, buying books for my class, and I read Where the Wild Things Are. That was the moment I knew I wanted to write and illustrate children’s books. But later, when I tried to make up a story, my mind went blank. From this experience, I learned an important lesson about believing in yourself. I didn’t know that, in my future, I would have a goddaughter named Arielle and a godson named Michael who would inspire me to write over seventy-five stories! I also learned a lesson about working hard at what you love, because, though eventually, the stories came easily to me, it took me time to polish them, as well as lots of practice to become an illustrator. I hope you too will discover what it is you most want to do—and won’t give up until you have!

Book preview

Part I

One night last week I woke up in the wee hours, and when I glanced out my window, I saw a light in the woods. Puzzled, I pulled my jacket on over my nightgown and went to get a closer look.

I hadn’t gone far when I heard singing—or was it just the sighing of the wind? Under a tree I came upon a bright fire, and, to my delight, I saw seven fairies dancing around it. Suddenly a troll jumped down from the highest branch of the tree. He was such a sight, with warts all over his face and bushy hair sticking out of his nose and ears, that all the fairies took flight. If he’d been a little bigger, I might have been frightened too, but he was no taller than my thigh.

He snatched up a magic wand that one of the fairies had dropped in her fright and started to run off with it. You have no right to take that! I shouted at him. When he stopped for a moment, as though deciding whether or not to put up a fight, I grabbed the other end of the wand. He hung on so tightly, however, I couldn’t pull it away from him. The next moment, the wand broke in two. Luckily, I had the magic half, so when he wished that I would turn into a frog, nothing happened, but when I wished he would turn into a toad, he did.

Well, okay, maybe there was a little magic in his half, because my skin looked slightly green for a day or two and every now and then I still say, Ribbit!

One day a brother and sister were following a stream through a forest. Though still children, they had traveled far, leaving behind a cruel father and a home that was no home. They were about to stop to rest when the girl heard a squeal beneath her foot. Lifting her worn heel, she saw something leap past her and land on a nearby branch. Curious, the boy tried to sneak up on it to catch it, but as he reached out, it disappeared among the leaves—well, almost. The children could still see the tip of its tail, which it couldn’t quite conceal. That’s what she’d stepped on, the girl realized.

Eager to get a better look at the creature, the brother gently pulled it out of its hiding place by the tail. All the two saw, however, was a gleaming shell. It appeared to be a tiny turtle…or at least it would have looked like a turtle if its tail hadn’t been as long as, well, their father’s arm. Besides, no turtle could have streaked through the air as fast as this one had.

They heard it squeak several times before they realized it was speaking to them.

We can hardly hear you, said the brother.

Please release my tail, it pleaded more loudly.

So the boy let it go. When he did, he saw that gleaming scales like glitter had come off in his hand. A moment later, one by one, the creature poked out its legs—its back legs as strong as a grasshopper’s—though it didn’t reveal its face to them.

I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to step on your tail, the girl apologized, hoping to tease it out of its shell. Really, you have nothing to fear from us.

But it still wouldn’t stick its head out, as if it had some other reason not to.

Okay. We’ll make you a deal, said the boy, reaching into his pocket for a few crumbs of bread. If you come out, we’ll give you a treat.

When it finally poked its head out and they leaned closer, they saw clearly that it did look something like a turtle, except that it had floppy ears, a beak like a bird’s…and, stranger still, a tiny golden crown on its head.

For a moment the two children were too astonished to speak, both wondering if they were dreaming. Wh…why are you wearing a crown? stammered the brother when he found his voice.

To remind myself that I was once a king, the creature replied, before a beautiful witch cast a spell on me. I wouldn’t marry her, and this is how she took her revenge. Thank you for not trying to steal my crown. Most people do.

I’m so sorry! repeated the girl, tears starting in her eyes.

How long have you been like this? the boy asked pityingly.

Too many years to count, squeaked the strange little beast. But the witch did allow me one grace. I may grant a wish to whoever is kind to me. So, think carefully before you speak. Between the two of you, I have only one wish to grant.

Why, we would wish for you to be a king again, said the girl without a second thought, her brother nodding.

Now it was the creature’s turn to be surprised. I see by your tattered clothes that you’re poor, by your rough hands that you work hard, and by your bruises that you’ve been cruelly mistreated. Why would you want to waste a wish on me?

We can’t wish anything for ourselves when we see your misfortune, the brother said simply.

Very well, the creature said doubtfully. I’ll do my best to grant your wish.

The very next moment a tall, regal man stood before them, all the scales of the gleaming shell turned to gold coins that were heaped around his feet, while the glitter in the boy’s hand had become a fistful of gold.

Why, it worked! You’ve released me from the spell! breathed the king as the children stared up at him in wonder. Abruptly he leaned against a tree for support, his chest heaving with emotion, he was so overcome.

Then he insisted they tell him their story.

I’ve no desire to rule again, he said quietly when they were finished. So take my crown and all the gold—I have no use for any of it—or if you’d prefer to lead a simple life, I will raise you as my own children.

So that is what they chose—and no children ever had a kinder father, nor was any father more dearly loved.

One pleasant day in spring, a peasant boy was heading across a meadow when he spotted a troll digging a hole at the edge of the forest. Beside him was a treasure chest. Seeing the boy approaching, the troll threatened him with a club, waving it over his head. Instead of being frightened, the peasant boy pulled his own weapon out of his pocket—a slingshot and a stone. Holding the slingshot steady, he took aim and shot at the troll.

As he came nearer, the boy thought maybe the troll was dead, he was lying so still. Could I really have killed him with one small stone? wondered the boy. He’d only meant to scare him off. When he leaned over the troll with dread, he was relieved to feel the creature’s breath on his face. It smelled bad, but clearly he wasn’t dead.

So the peasant boy grabbed the treasure chest, which wasn’t that heavy, and started to run back across the meadow. As he did, he was already picturing himself a wealthy man, living like a king for the rest of his days. But after only a few steps, he tripped, and when he dropped the treasure chest, the lid fell open.

No wonder it hadn’t felt heavy! What it was full of, he saw, were feathers—beautiful feathers, it was true, from many kinds of birds, but mere feathers, nevertheless. What use were feathers to him, except to stuff inside his pillow? Not ready yet to give up his hope of a life of ease and pleasure, he dumped them out on the ground, thinking there must be something of value at the bottom of the chest.

Meanwhile the pleasant weather had changed for the worse. The moment the troll came to, he saw all his feathers swept into the sky by a great gust of wind. Then the peasant boy and the troll fell into each other’s arms, wailing because both had lost their dreams of wealth, and, as they say, misery loves company.

What the boy didn’t know until the troll told him was that trolls use beautiful feathers for money, and to them gold