YOUR STORY HOUR
®
MEETING 2, 2018
A Message from Aunt Carole Here we are in February, when some parts of the world are covered with a blanket of cold A Message from and snow. But here at Your Story Hour and Aunt Carole & Uncle Dan Clubhouse, our hearts are warm! Why? Because of our love for you and all the Story Hour kids—and because of God’s love for us all. We hope you have a wonderful month! And may God bless you and your family. may
“OK, so, it’s a bad hair day!”
By Lisa Rowe Fraustino Illustrated by Anthony Boyd
Everyone who lives in Dover knows the stories about old Leonard Dingman, better known as “Dingahoofer.” He used to be a millionaire, but lost his money long ago. He was engaged to a beautiful girl who married someone else when Dingahoofer was fighting in the war. Now Dingahoofer is a hermit living in a cave on Croft Mountain, and he comes into town late at night to steal food and clothes. I was starting to think those stories were hogwash. How many times did the Camp Out Club stay up at night, keeping our eyes peeled, looking for a sign of the Dover Hermit? But nobody ever saw the old man. I thought Dingahoofer existed, all right–in the imaginations of the Dover kids. Until one day in early June. It had suddenly turned very cold and nasty, but the Camp Out Club stuck to its plans. We were camping in Pudge Matthews’ back yard, even though it was only 47 degrees and raining hard. We were all complaining about freezing to death in the middle of summer. Just after dark Pete Randall burst into the tent, eyes flashing and hair stringy with rain. 2
“I saw him! I saw Dingahoofer!” he cried. I didn’t get too excited at first. Pete always gets worked up over nothing. “He was downtown, near your house, Shreve,” Pete went on, his voice shrill and quick. “I saw him!” I still didn’t believe Pete had seen Dingman. But when he claimed he’d seen the mystery man outside my house, I was all ears. “What did he look like?” Pudge asked, his round cheeks as red as apples. “He was the oldest thing I’ve ever seen–probably 120 years old. He had a mangy old beard and a raggedy old coat and a shaggy old mutt in his arms that looked even mangier.” “Pete,” I said doubtfully, “anyone would look mangy in this storm. Are you sure it was Dingman?” “Sure I’m sure!” Pete glared at me. “No one else could look like that!” “Then what are we waiting for?” Pudge cried. “Let’s get a look at Dingahoofer!” The three of us charged out into the darkness and toward town, slipping and sliding on the cold, wet grass. We hardly noticed the rain pelting down. We were going to see Dingahoofer at last. Soon we skidded to a stop in front of a carved wooden sign in front of my house which read Murphy’s Veterinary Clinic. The sidewalks were empty except for rain puddles twinkling under the street lights. 3
Jr. Detective Zoo Citizens Of course you know what kinds of wild animals are at the zoo! But can you recognize them when they have alias names? Simply rearrange the letters in each name below to spell the name of a zoo resident. –by Kathryn M. Wilson
“Shucks, Dingahoofer’s gone,” Pete and Pudge groaned. “He’s smarter than we are,” I said, shivering. “Only a lunatic would stay outside in this weather. I’m going inside.” As I dodged into Dad’s first-floor vet’s office, a piercing howl from the examining room practically jolted me out of my sneakers. As Dad’s voice crooned, “There, there, boy,” the noise filtered to a whimper. In the examining room, Dad was extracting a long hypodermic needle from a disheveled, white dog, whose wet fur smelled something awful. “Shreve, will you give me a hand while I stitch up?” Dad asked. I held down the trembling dog as Dad artfully sewed shut the jagged wound that had left a thigh bone open to view. “How did he get hurt?” I asked. “Whose pet is he?” Dad stroked the mutt’s brow. “I don’t know, Shreve. I found him on the doorstep.” A leather tab dangled from a rope 4
around the dog’s neck. I could barely read the hand-etched words: “EBENEZER, Foxcroft Ridge.” “Foxcroft Ridge?” I had never heard of it. “It’s up on Croft Mountain,” Dad explained, still stitching. “I didn’t think anyone lived there–not since the logging business ended.” Right then I put two and two together. “Ebenezer is Leonard Dingman’s dog, Dad. I know it.” The Camp Out Club posted a Dingahoofer patrol outside Dad’s office every day for two weeks, but nobody came for Ebenezer. The wound healed fine, and once Ebenezer had a bath and a haircut, he was pretty good-looking for a mongrel. The guys wanted to make him our club mascot. But when Ebenezer continued to spend most of his time sitting and sulking, we figured he wanted to go home. “I have an idea,” Pete Randall suggested one morning. “Let’s take Cont. pg. 16.
Solution on page 19.
P. S. If you can figure out five of these, you are a genius!!!
Example: Al Cem = Camel 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12.
Ila Lorg Nat Herp Ira Geff D. A. Nap Pete Alon Leo Darp O. C.Rab Pete L. Han Ron Okaga Erin Reed E. G. Rit Ken Yom 5
Clubhouse Kids
Jokes and riddles sent in by readers. Send yours to: Clubhouse P.O. Box 15 Berrien Springs, MI 49103
Sports
–by Corey Bundy (These are the first two verses of Corey’s poem.)
Q:
With an awful racket, I change my jacket. I change my coat and color. My weight is less in my new dress, though I am many times larger. What am I?
--By Rachel Klewin
MOM: Tim, you shouldn’t be playing right now. You’re supposed to cut the grass after you wash the dishes.
Cryi ng Crying
TIM: It’s OK, Mom. I haven’t washed the dishes yet! Out of my peephole to the world, I see the heavens cry, The tear drops Hitting the warm soil, Like mine hit the cold skin. Watching, I smile, Knowing the heavens are crying, too –by Christina Poirier
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Q: Why do kangaroos grow big so quickly?
Popcorn.
Sports is a game full of fun. Sports is a game for everyone. It’s full of laughs and full of cries, But it makes you feel like You’re one of the guys. No matter how your day is going, You think of sports, And it keeps the day flowing.
A: Because they grow by leaps and bounds!
ALEX: What insect do blacksmiths make: PETE: I dunno. What? ALEX: They make the fire-fly!
Send your poem, drawing or joke to: Clubhouse, P. O. Box 15, Berrien Springs, MI 49103. (If you submit a picture, be sure it is on white paper without lines. Otherwise we won’t be able to use it.)
POLLY: How many hairs in a rabbit’s tail? MOLLY: None. They’re all outside. 7
Illustrated by Michael Fleishman Based on God Cares by Doris Burdick
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1
One night Pharaoh, the king of Egypt, dreams about 7 fat cows, and then along come 7 skinny ones. Next he dreams of 7 fat and full ears of corn that are followed by 7 thin, scorched ears. He has no idea what the dreams mean. He calls his magicians to interpret his dreams.
Unfortunately, the magicians can’t interpret the dreams. Then the butler remembers that when he was in prison, another prisoner named Joseph had interpreted a dream he had had one night. Pharaoh calls for Joseph to be brought from prison. Joseph says God can interpret Pharaoh’s dreams.
God shows Joseph that Pharaoh’s two dreams have the same meaning. There will be 7 years of good harvests followed by 7 years of bad harvests and famine. He then advises Pharaoh to collect one fifth of the crops during the good years to save for the bad years to come. To everyone’s surprise, Pharaoh puts Joseph, who had just been brought from prison, in charge of the project, because he recognizes that God is with Joseph and that Joseph is wise. So for seven years, Joseph collects one-fifth of the grain of Egypt....Then the bad years come. Famine spreads across Egypt and for many countries nearby. Joseph’s 10 older brothers travel to Egypt to find food. They don’t recognize Joseph, who they sold into slavery years before...and they don’t realize that when they bow before him they are fulfilling the dreams God sent to Joseph when he was a boy—dreams that had made them angry and jealous of Jo-
seph, dreams that foretold a time when they would bow down to Joseph, dreams that had caused them to throw Joseph into a pit and sell him to merchants traveling to Egypt. And now, here they are bowing before Joseph, just as Joseph’s dreams said they would.
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8
Puzzle Power Underline the correct answer: 1. Each year before the famine, Joseph saved (one-fifth, one-seventh, one tenth) of the grain. 2.
The man who had remembered that Joseph interpreted his dream was (the baker, the butler, the stable boy).
3.
Pharaoh dreamed about 7 fat (horses, camels, cows).
4.
He also dreamed about 7 (ears of corn, bundles of hay, baskets of beans).
5.
Pharaoh called for Joseph to be brought from (the court, the prison, his house).
6.
There were (5, 8, 10) of Joseph’s older brothers who arrived looking for food.
7.
When the brothers (bowed before him, paid him money, sold him into slavery) Joseph knew that his dreams had been fulfilled.
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Joseph immediately recognizes his brothers, even though they don’t recognize him. What would he do now with the brothers that had been so cruel to him? To find the answer, read Genesis, chapter 45. You can read the previous chapters for all of the story.
8.
The seven skinny cows meant (7 years of famine, 7 years of hard work, the same as the fat cows).
9.
Pharaoh’s dreams were interpreted by (the magicians, the butler, God through Joseph).
10. All of these people had dreams in the story EXCEPT (Pharaoh, the magicians, Joseph, the butler). ANSWERS: 1. one-fifth; 2. the butler; 3. cows; 4. ears of corn; 5. the prison; 6. 10; 7. bowed before him; 8. 7 years of famine; 9. God through Joseph; 10. the magicians
Bible Snapshots
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The Fiv e Five Dol lar Bil Dollar Billl By Maxine F. Dennis Illustrated by Delfin Barral
Justin swallowed hard as he approached the house. He wondered how he would ever get the courage to tell his parents what had happened. As he entered the kitchen, he avoided looking at his mother. “Hi, Justin. How was your day?” she asked cheerfully. “Any problems?” “No,” Justin said as he headed for his bedroom. He couldn’t bear to have one more question asked. He was afraid he would confess what had happened today. Justin threw himself across his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He knew he’d have to tell his parents—how Billy Perkins, his best friend, had kept bugging him for money. But right now he just wasn’t ready.
1.
10
“Hey, c’mon, Justin. Let me borrow a five,” Billy had kept saying. At first Justin had just said, “No.” But Billy hadn’t been easily discouraged. All during class he kept asking. Finally, toward the end of the day, Justin reached into his pocket, and his fingers closed around his five dollar bill. “What do you want five dollars for?” he had asked Billy as they left school. “It’s my mom’s birthday. I want to get her a real nice card at Ferguson’s after school.” So, with a shrug of his shoulders, Justin had handed Billy all the money he had, his five dollar bill, and watched him race off. “Don’t forget to pay me back!” he had called after Billy. Justin had felt sort of proud about letting Billy borrow the money. After all, it was a sacrifice. He whistled happily as he started on his way home. As he turned the corner of Melrose Street, something caught his eye.
2.
Billy didn’t speak for a moment. He looked directly into Justin’s face. Then he turned and looked to the right and to the left. He looked in front of him and behind him. Finally, he said, “Come on, I’ll show you.” He led the way to a nearby alley. He looked around again to see if anyone was around. Then he quickly took something out of his pocket. He struck a match, cupped his hands, and drew a deep drag on a twisted cigarette. Justin couldn’t speak. He just stared, watching as Billy took another drag. He knew from the smell of the cigarette and its strange appearance that it wasn’t made from regular tobacco. That would have been bad enough. This was worse. “That’s marijuana,” Justin stammered. “That’s against the law.” “Come on, Justin, just try it. After all, you let me borrow the money to buy it,” he chuckled softly.
4.
There, right in front of him, was Billy. He was taking something from Randy, a troublemaker from school. Justin felt his heart skip wildly as he waited for Randy to leave. Then he slowly approached Billy. Billy’s face turned red when he saw Justin. He hastily slid something into his pocket. “I thought you were going to Ferguson’s to buy your mom a birthday card.” “It’s not her birthday,” Billy said. “But you borrowed the money from me. You said you had to buy her a card,” Justin persisted. “I lied,” Billy said. “What did you take from Randy?” “None of your business,” Billy glared. “It is my business. I let you borrow all the money I had— five whole dollars!” Justin replied.
3.
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Justin stared at the cigarette for what seemed like an eternity. He remembered hearing all sorts of things about pot and how strange it was supposed to make you feel. His fingers trembled as he edged them slowly toward the cigarette. “Take a drag,” Billy urged again. Just as Justin was about to take hold of the cigarette, he heard the loud click of heels approaching the end of the alley. He turned and began to run. He ran straight home without stopping. Now as he lay on his bed, he wondered, Would I have tried the marijuana, if someone hadn’t come into the alley? Justin closed his eyes and prayed. He asked God to help him sort out his confused thoughts.
Flying North
5.
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Later that night, he decided to talk to his parents. “I almost took a drag,” he told them. “But you didn’t,” mother said. “No, but only because somebody came into the alley and scared me,” Justin admitted. “Justin, maybe God had something to do with that,” Father said. “What do you mean?” “Well, maybe He wanted to give you a chance to really think about trying marijuana,” Father explained. “I’m sure glad He did,” Justin said. He knew one thing for sure. Because he had had a chance to really think things through, he knew that experimenting with drugs wasn’t something he wanted to do—now or ever! And so, he thanked God for helping him make the right choice.
6.
Young Jason Pinfeather stretched his neck and flapped both wings. Nobody in the flock paid him any attention. After all, he was considered to be the runt, and wild ducks simply did not pay any notice to such creatures. His bill was almost orange, not the tasteful yellow of the rest of those gathered for the trip north. Jason Pinfeather’s feathers were without the tidy design the others had. No bright green feather ornamented his tail, and he had almost no neck at all. General Weswayne, who flew the point of the “V,” had already told the undersized duck that he could not go on the trip north. “What would others say? It would definitely ruin the look of the flank we put you in, wouldn’t it?” Old Topher Longwing offered his spot near the far tip of the formation, as he was growing old and thought to stay in the southern sun. “What would it hurt?” he asked with a firm quack and waddle, made somewhat comical by arthritis.
“Well, for a start,” Wampum said with a toss of her head. “Positions in the flying pattern are assigned by family. He is not a Longwing!” Old Topher Longwing nodded. “But I have adopted Jason. His parents were shot by hunters.” “Rules are rules,” quacked the young Wampum, diving out of sight to munch on green things growing along the bottom of the lake on which they sat. Wendherway, known as Wendy, nodded. “It has always been that way.” “But things are changing. Times are not what they were. We need to move with the times.” Not one bird listened to Old Topher as they slowly moved toward their leader. In the rushes at the edge of the pond, Old Topher pulled young Jason aside. “Go ahead, take my place. They’re so full of themselves they’ll never notice. Bunch of sticksin-the-mud!” The small duck shook his tan 13
head and looked into the waves. “They’re right. I’m not like them.” “Of course. You are yourself. Every creature is different in some way.” “But Wampum says I have no neck.” The old duck laughed so hard his honk shook the cattails nearby. Something connects your head to your body.” “And Wendherway said I have a flat tail, without those curling feathers the rest of you all have.” “God gave you what he thought you needed,” was all Old Topher said. “Besides, Wendherway always tries to make peace, so judge her intent, not always what she says.” “I would so like to fly in the long line, the starboard flank of the “V” has always been my favorite.” “Then do it,” the old duck said, bending his long neck so his head disappeared under one tattered wing. “I couldn’t,” replied Jason with a droop of his bill that tilted him forward so the plain tail was all the 14
more visible. With a suddenness that rippled water far into the pond, he suddenly sat erect. “We could go together.” “Two ducks in one slot?” Old Topher brought his good wing near his beak in contemplation. “It has never been done. You know, I think I like it.” His excitement brought such waves to the center of the pond that Wampum and Wendherway gave them a stern look. “Always was one to unsettle a perfectly calm pond,” Wampum said. “Well, maybe the old, gentle duck is pleased with something, and...” Wendherway started to say, but with one look at Wampum, she quacked herself into silence. She was quick to chew on a bit of wild rice that jutted above the waves. At their distance, the young Pinfeather continued: “How will we tell General Weswayne?” “What the old bird doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Old Topher Longwing said. “Besides, we’ll be
well up and on our way before it is light enough to see us all, and you know the General’s eyesight is not what it used to be.” Jason nodded, certain in his mind that Old Topher was only going to go with them far enough to make sure that Jason was accepted, and then he would give up and return to the lake in the south instead of going north to where he belonged. Sure enough! The next morning, long before daylight, the formation lifted from the bay, all responding to frequent harsh quacks of their leader, General Weswayne. Old Topher Longwing kept Jason hidden until they were well inland and high enough to see distant mountains along the horizon. “Two ducks in one slot!” Wampum said, looking across the formation from her place opposite. Her head feathers turned nearly white from shock. “Well, it’s sort of nice,” began Wendherway, who was immedi-
ately quacked to silence by several in the “V.” Old Topher swerved from the formation. “Well, Son, you’re on your own now,” he said, turning back toward the lake. “Not on your life,” said young Jason Pinfeather so forcefully that the old duck’s bill flew open. “We started this together,” continued Jason, “and we’ll end it that way.” “But I’m just in the way,” Old Topher quacked. Before Wampum could agree, the others started honking their opinions all along the line. They argued so loudly that they drowned out auto noises on the freeway below, and General Weswayne was so busy trying to hear all that was going on, he nearly led them into a cliff. “Look out!” called out the sharpeyed Jason Pinfeather. The General snapped his head around just in time to save them. “Imagine the point taking orders from the flank,” he muttered deep enough in his throat for nobody to hear. “There is no respect anymore,” he honked and led the “V” up to a higher altitude. Unable to resist the younger duck’s insistence, Old Topher agreed to finish the journey. “But I don’t know what I can contribute,” he quacked, proud to be wanted. As they approached the salt flats of Utah, the General veered off toward the bay at Farmington. Sunlight rippled across the dark waves as dawn started to send the Continued on pg. 18.
15
Dover H Heermit
Cont.
Ebenezer back to Dingahoofer.” “OK, I’ll go,” Dad agreed a few minutes later. “But we’ll have to make it an over-nighter. Those old logging roads will be overgrown with bushes by now. Once we hike up to Foxcroft Ridge, it will be almost dark.” Hours later we were hiking along a steep, winding trail. All was quiet except the crackling of underbrush and an occasional bird whistle. Pudge let out a sudden squeal. “Look at Ebenezer! He knows where he’s going!” The dog was pulling hard against his leash, with his ears pointing up and his nose twitching. Then the woods’ road ended, and Dad suggested we set up camp. When Pudge let go of Ebenezer’s leash, he scurried over a fallen pine. We chased him to a narrow, hardpacked deer trail. Ebenezer ran ahead and scampered between a couple of mosscovered boulders. On the other side, we found him waiting for us in front of some steps carved into a steep rock embankment. We were all thinking the same thing: Dingahoofer’s cave had to be at the top of those steps. Why else would Ebenezer be wagging his tail like crazy? We practically flew up the steps. Instead of a cave, we found a cozy log cabin snuggled in the pines. What a view! Miles away sat 16
the town of Dover, white church steeples against a canvas of green. As we gaped at the panorama, Ebenezer trotted past a couple of clucking hens and pushed in the cabin door. “Ebenezer!” a creaky voice called weakly. We exchanged grins and rushed to the cabin. It had to be Dingahoofer’s voice. Dad knocked and the voice answered hesitantly, “Door’s open.” The old man sitting on the bed wore clean, faded jeans and a cotton shirt. His neatly trimmed hair and beard matched the white coat of the dog now licking his face. “Ebenezer, boy,” the man said, “I thought you were a goner when you got caught in that bear trap.” Then the man coughed so hard he bent over double. “Mr. Dingman?” Dad moved forward and coaxed the man to lie down. “Sounds like a terrible case of bronchitis.” “He must have gotten sick when he brought Ebenezer into town during that rainstorm,” Pete said. “It’s worth it,” the man answered, “now that I know my boy is better. And it looks like he found some good friends.” Mr. Dingman is feeling better now. After spending the night on Foxcroft Ridge, we helped him into town for medical treatment. Actually, Mr. Dingman always comes
into Dover once a month to buy whatever he can’t provide for himself with his garden, animals and windmill. We just never realized he was around. After all, we were looking for someone mysterious.
We’ve found out a lot about Mr. Dingman since then. He always stops by when he’s in town, and the Camp Out Club goes up to Foxcroft Ridge sometimes. Mr. Dingman tells neat stories about long ago times and about the war and the way things used to be when Dover had the logging boom. The other kids at school still tell those old stories about “Dingahoofer,” but the guys in the Camp Out Club have decided not to ruin the mystery. We figure Mr. Dingman and Dingahoofer have always been two different people. And they should stay that way.
Cats Walk Soft By O. J. Robertson
Cats walk soft like cotton, As quiet as falling snow; You never hear them coming, You never hear them go. They brush around your ankle With a gentle touch; Their step close behind you Is very hush, hush. They jump upon a table, They leap into a chair; You never near the movement, You just see them there.
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Flying North Continued
shadows into tight pools. “Something’s wrong,” young Jason Pinfeather said. The old duck couldn’t see, so he turned to his companion. “What’s the matter?” “I don’t know, but the light is funny on the water.” “Like how?” Old Topher Longwing stretched his neck, sniffing the air as they flew. “Well, the light is funny. It sort of falls apart on the water instead of holding together in bright spots.” “Falls apart in different little rainbows?” “Yes,” Jason said, squinting to make sure he reported what he saw. “Ridiculous,” Wampum said from her spot opposite. “It is a frosty morning, and the light is as it always is....” she quacked on and on. “Well, the boy might have something; but on the other wing...” Wendherway added, going back and forth as she flapped to keep up with the others. “Don’t land,” Old Topher Longwing honked in a voice of such power all swerved up and out of danger. “It’s oil. I remember a spill a few years ago. Those that landed in the sticky stuff were stuck. Couldn’t fly. Most died. It was terrible. 18
“How did you escape?” The old duck looked over his shoulder with a wink to young Jason Pinfeather. “We were the second formation. We saw what happened to them and flew on.” “Maybe being first isn’t always best,” observed a quiet duck near the rear. A quacking argument broke out between those who thought being first was best and those who valued being able to look ahead and benefit from other’s mistakes. “You didn’t help them?” honked General Weswayne, trying to pull them back to the subject. “And get themselves coated with the gunk?” quacked back Wendherway with cautious eye to her companions. “What good would that have done?” asked Wampum with her bill in the air. “Stay to the south of that water,” called Old Topher. “I remember some pretty keen hunters hide out there.” The shots rang out even as they swerved to safety. “That was a close one,” admitted the General to no one but himself. “Of course, I would have seen them. Imagine taking orders from the flank!” “Maybe you should have Jason
here, fly up with you. He has keen vision,” called Old Topher. The General snorted hard enough to pull the whole formation off course for the distance of the Great Salt Lake. “I’d rather be with you,” Jason quacked. “The General hasn’t flown as much as you have. Besides, he’s so full of corn and pizza crust he thinks he’s perfect. So what I see won’t mean as much–but your memory will keep the formation out of trouble. We’re quite a team.” Young Jason Pinfeather glanced hopefully at Old Topher Longwing. Old Topher smiled. “Yes, my boy, we are, aren’t we? Quite a team.” There was an amazing, sudden silence along the two lines of the formation. For once, the whole flock was in immediate and perfect agreement.
CLUBHOUSE Vol. 67
No. 2
www.yourstoryhour.org
®
President - Julie Clayburn Treasurer–Suzanne Renton Board Chairman–Nick Wolfer
CLUBHOUSE is published 12 times yearly. Copyright by Your Story Hour, Berrien Springs, MI 49103, a non-profit corporation. Editor, Elaine Trumbo-Roberts Proofreaders–Barb Ray, Cara Griggs, Julie Clayburn (This issue contains elements of Meeting 2, 2012 and with other selections.) CLUBHOUSE is produced and posted in-house.
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Zoo Citizens Solution
“”Oh, all right. You can have just one piece of cake.”
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.
gorilla panther giraffe panda antelope leopard
7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12.
cobra elephant kangaroo reindeer tiger monkey 19