The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

Kings of the Farm

Everything was still. Everyone was fast asleep.

There wasn’t a single sound to be heard across the farm. Beneath the sturdy old oak
tree, the cows gathered in the pasture. They lay down on the soft patches of grass,
their legs tucked beneath them. In the cozy barn, the horses settled into their stalls.
They stood on a thick layer of fresh straw, shifting their weight from one leg to the
other as they slept. Not far from the barn, the sheep huddled together in the sheep
pen. Meanwhile, in the chicken coop, the chickens roosted on their perches. They had
fluffed up their feathers and settled down, balancing perfectly on the wooden beams.

Slowly, bit by bit, as the sky turned a lighter shade of grey, then pink, then purple,
then blue, one head in the chicken coop began to move. It was Atlas! He was a big
cockerel – the general of the farm. When the sun in the sky began to rise just
behind the distant green hills surrounding the farm, he raised his head from where
it rested within his feathered wings. Then he broke the peace of the sleepy farm:

“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo! Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!”

It was time for the farm to come to life.

“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!”

Atlas flew down from his position on the wooden beams and landed on the soft
ground with a thud. He flapped his wings, shook himself awake, and stalked across
the chicken coop.

“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo! Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!” he cried again, waking the

chickens, his shrill cry travelling to the cows and sheep outside.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

Once he had woken up the animals in this area of the farm, he made his
way to the stables where the horses slept. As if his voice was not enough, he
also shook his wings noisily as he strode across the yard.

“I am the commander of the farm!” he said. “It is my job to wake you all. It is my
duty to make sure everyone wakes up when the sun is out. I am in charge! So, listen
to me! Hear my cry! Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!”

Atlas was the proud guardian of the dawn. With feathers as vibrant as the
morning sun, he was a big and strong cockerel. He was mighty in size and had
bright eyes that shimmered in shades of green and deep blue. From the day he had
been brought to the farm by the farmer, his master, he knew he only had one role
in life – to lead.

On his first day at the farm, he had arrived in a small wooden box with holes in
the lid. When the farmer had lifted the lid, he had jumped out of the box and
fluffed his wings. Then he had taken a tour of the farm much in the same way as
he did now.

Flying up towards a mound in the

middle of the farmyard, Atlas
perched on the top of it and viewed
the area all around him. The sun
was shining strongly now in the blue
sky. There were no clouds in sight. It
was going to be a clear day! Or so it
appeared to Atlas.

As he turned his face towards the

North of the farm, beyond the barn,
he saw something that ruined what

Image 1
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

was otherwise promising to be a good day.

“Hmm!” he said. “What is my master doing with that box in his hands?”

He jumped down the mound to get nearer to his master, but even as he got closer,
he saw that his master had opened the lid of the box and helped another rooster out
onto the ground of the farmyard.

“Come on, my beauty!” he said as the bird adjusted to the light of the day.

Then slowly, and steadily, the second bird stretched upwards and spread his wings.
What a magnificent cockerel he was! Atlas could not help but stare in surprise. He
was more colourful than Atlas!

His feathers were a dazzling mix of many rich colors. Deep maroons and intense
golds of all shades joined with royal purples and brilliant blues. The colours of his
feathers were not only breathtaking, but they also made him look bigger than he
was. The new rooster’s tail was also extravagant. As he shook it straight, Atlas saw
that it had many layers and was far thicker than his own. When he walked, it
swayed with every confident step he took. It fanned out behind him like a grand
peacock's, each feather coloured in a way that seemed to change with the light. In
the dark, the features of his tail seemed black. In the light, these seemed to be purple
and blue.

As if this wasn’t enough, he had a comb that stood tall and proud! It was such a
vivid red that on top of his head, it looked like a wonderful crown.

“Hercules!” said the farmer suddenly. “Yes! That is what I will call you. Hercules!”

The rooster seemed to nod his head. He walked over to where Atlas stood and circled
him, observing closely. Even though Atlas had never yet felt like he was anything less
than grand, he suddenly felt a little small next to this bigger cockerel.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

“Ah, you’ve met Atlas!” said the farmer. “I’m sure you’ll find your way
around the rest of the animals and farm too, Hercules. It is early enough
for you to announce your arrival. So, why don’t you? What have you got to say for
yourself?”

The farmer had just finished speaking that Hercules left Atlas. Very quickly, he
flew up the same mound Atlas had climbed some time ago and perched himself on
top of it.

Both Atlas and the farmer looked at Hercules. He was quiet as he looked around the
farmyard – his new kingdom! The farmer shook his head and bent to pick up the
box Hercules had come in. Then he looked at Atlas and spoke:

“Doesn’t this remind you of when I brought you to the farm for the first time,
Atlas?” he asked.

The memory seemed to make him happy, and he laughed. Before he went inside, he
stopped by the door and looked back at Hercules on top of his mound once more. The
cockerel was still looking at the farmyard. He had been in that small box for too long
– far too long! It had been dark and suffocating. The box had been jolted so many
times too that it had properly given him a headache.

“I am glad to be out!” he whispered, testing his voice.

Then Hercules turned to the East. The sun was still up in the sky, some way beyond
the hills. He stretched his neck, and in a clear voice, sang out:

“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo! I am Hercules and I am the King of the farm!” he said.

“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!”

Startled, Atlas looked around. He didn’t understand what Hercules meant by this
announcement. Atlas was the commander of the farm.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

He stomped to the nearest haystack and climbed this with purpose. Thump,
thump, thump! He put one claw after the next and made it to the top. Then
he puffed up his chest and stood up as tall as he could. He looked across the farm to
where Hercules stood on his mound. Then he took a larger breath in and sang out
even louder:

“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo! I am Atlas and I am the Commander of the farm!” he

said. “Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooooo-oooo!”

His voice echoed even more loudly from the haystack. The farmer came running to
the open door of his house. He looked outside and smiled. “You’ll work it out between
yourselves,” he said. “Now there is not one, but two roosters on the farm. You’ll just
have to become friends and live with one another!

Images for the story have been provided by:

• Image 1: macrovector on Freepik

The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

Atlas and Hercules

The chaos in the farm only got worse.

First Hercules, the newcomer, made his voice heard. Then Atlas took a turn. He
puffed his chest as much as he could and cried the loudest he ever had:

“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo! Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!”

He had, till then, been the only King and Commander of the farm. He was proud of
his role, as he always had been. He might be an old rooster, but he was still the best.
His strong voice proved as much when it echoed through the farm and far off into
the hills in the distance.

Hercules heard the echo and turned to face the haystack.

“Where did that come from?” he asked, looking around. He looked to his left, and
then he looked to his right. He faced the haystack and saw some movement at the
top. Looking up, he saw that Atlas was moving as if he was marching on the spot.
Atlas raised one leg, then the other. Then he stood still. He knew the newcomer had
seen him.

Hercules stared at Atlas with wide open eyes. Atlas was an impressive bird. He
wasn’t as colourful as Hercules, but he was just as big. He had an orange body and
a dark brown neck and face. His comb, although not as grand as the one that
crowned Hercules, was a bright red that shined deep in the afternoon sun.

“Who are you?” asked Hercules.

In response, Atlas jumped off the haystack and spread his wings wide. He brought a
claw full of hay with him, letting it go as he reached the ground. When he reached
the ground, he kicked the dirt and made small clouds of dust rise all around
himself. The hay fell all around him, drifting in circles because of a light breeze.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

Atlas continued to scratch at the earth with his sharp claws, making more
dust fill up the air.
“I am Atlas,” he said finally. “The Commander of the farm.”
“Hmm,” thought Hercules. He did not know that there would be another cockerel at
the farm.
All around him, Atlas moved in slow circles. He took one step, then two steps quickly,
then one step. He was walking in a rhythm. One step. Stop. Two fast steps. Stop.
Then he rushed towards the newcomer. Stop. Then one step. Stop. Two fast steps,
and so on and so forth. All this time, he remained at a safe distance from Hercules.
He pecked and clawed at the earth till both of them were surrounded by dust clouds.
“I’ll tell you what, Atlas,” said Hercules. “My name is Hercules, and I am the King of
the farm. Do you understand that? You can’t be the Commander.”
“I have always been the Commander!” replied Atlas. “Do you see all this land, from
the stables where the horses sleep to the far end of the hills where the sheep graze?
This is all my land. I command it.”
“Well, we both can’t be the rulers of the same place,” said Hercules. He wasn’t
willing to fight Atlas even though Atlas seemed more than willing to do so. “So, let’s
make a deal. Whoever wakes up the farm first for the next week gets to be the King
or Commander of the farm. What do you say?”
Atlas laughed. It was his job, his only purpose in life to wake the farm early in the
morning. How could he lose at this silly challenge? “I agree!” he shouted. “But it is
only fair to warn you that I am the best at what I do!”
“We shall see,” replied Hercules, happy that a fight had been avoided.
At night, he peeked out from half-closed eyes to see if everyone in the chicken coop
was asleep. The hens had their heads in their wings, and Atlas was balanced high
on top of his perch. He, too, slept deeply. Hercules moved very slowly and carefully
through the rows of the animals, making sure not to wake anyone. Then he gathered
the softest features from the sleeping hens.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

He used the feathers to gently tickle the feet of his fellow rooster. This caused
Atlas to twitch and wiggle, disrupting his sleep just enough to make him
groggy and slow to wake up in the morning.
As the sun came up, Hercules, who had slept well, happily saw that Atlas was still
sleeping because of his broken sleep the night before. Craning his neck upwards, he let
out a victory cry:
“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!”
Atlas woke up with a jerk, realising that he was late. “What did you do?” he asked
Hercules, knowing that the other had played some kind of trick on him! Then he
rushed to wake up the farm: “Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!” he said. “Cock-a-doodle-
doooooooooo! I am the Commander of the farm and I wake you!”
“We are already awake!” called back the hens.
The horses and sheep outside had also risen. Atlas glared at Hercules as the other
cockerel pranced across the yard.
“We’ll see,” threatened Atlas. “If you want to play tricks, then I will also join you.”
The next morning, Atlas woke up earlier than usual. He woke up when the sky was
still dark. Knowing that Hercules liked tasty treats, he created a trail of corn crumbs
leading from the sleeping area to a hidden corner of the coop that was far away
from the rest of the farm.
When the first rays of dawn peeked through the coop windows soon, Hercules stirred
and, half-awake, saw the trail of delicious corn. Since there was still time to wake
up the other animals, he followed this trail, pecking all the crumbs hungrily.
“It is good to eat before work!” he exclaimed, only to find himself so far away from
his usual crowing spot. By the time he realised what was happening, he was too far
off to make his way back. In the distance, he heard Atlas:
“Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo! Don’t you like to wake up to the sound of my voice? I am
the Commander of the farm.”
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

Hercules rushed back as fast as his legs could carry him.

“You!” he said, pointing to Atlas. “You set a trap for me!”
Atlas opened his eyes wide, and crowing loudly, made an attack. “You played a trick
on me first!” he said.
The two birds became locked together. They rolled in the dust. They scrapped and
fluttered; they crowed and cried; they squawked and squealed; they scratched and
kicked; they pecked at each other with great violence.
It was a terrible sight indeed!
And the other animals of the farm gathered
round to watch from a distance – the contest of
these two giants. Nobody noticed that the farmer
had entered the farmyard from his house. He
carried a box with holes in its sides. He put it
down on the ground and opened a door on one
side of it.
“Here we are,” he said, bending over the box. Image 1

“Come out now and see your new home!” He gently tapped the side of the box and
from inside, a fluttering of wings could be heard.
At the sound, both Atlas and Hercules stopped what they were doing and turned.
A cockerel slowly came out from the box. He was bigger than both Atlas and
Hercules!
“I know,” said the farmer, excitedly. “I’ll call you Perseus!”

Images for the story have been provided by:

• Image 1: studiogstock on Freepik

The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

The Clever Heron and the Brave

Crab
Once there lived a heron in the reeds right next to a lovely little pond. He was a tall
creature, not as tall as a stork, but tall enough to reach the bottom of the pond with
his beak when he bent over. Like any other heron, his head was ash-grey whereas
the rest of his body was white. His white feathers were stripped black in some places.
He had orange legs and an orange beak that was as sharp as a dagger.

He was a most handsome bird!

He walked in a proud way. Every step he took made his long neck sway back and
forth, forming an S shape as it did so. He held his head very high when he walked
through the water in the pond with long steps, but his eyes were always watching the
water below him.

The pond was little and rather shallow, but it had the densest variety of fish. There
were colourful fish, simple fish, small fish, big fish, fish that swam alone, and fish
that swam in
schools. If he had
to show off
where he lived,
he would have
said that he
lived next to a
buffet! But the
heron was a lazy
bird.

He had only ever

eaten the fish

Image 1
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

that were easy to catch, that swam too close to the surface of the water and
too close to him. He did not like to stoop too low to catch his meals. He felt as
though diving too deep into the water made his feathers wet and ugly. He liked to
look beautiful all the time.

“What shall I do for lunch?” he thought one day, standing in the reeds. “I don’t
want to catch my own fish, and none seem to be swimming to close to me today.”

He was a clever bird, and soon, an idea occurred to him.

“Where can I get my good without having to work for it?” he asked. “I know! I will
fool the food into coming to me.”

The heron stood on one leg first, thinking about the details of the idea. “Will it
work?” he asked himself, shifting to the other leg. The more he waited and thought,
the hungrier he became.

“I will work!” he exclaimed finally. “It is a BRILLIANT idea!”

He was so pleased that he nearly fell over. He did not even notice that four fish had
already swam past him, having come too close. But he had been too lost in thought
to have taken notice then!

He finished thinking, and then, quite pleased with himself, balanced himself on both
legs. However, he was so excited about his plan that he almost tripped over!

“I shall put my plan into action right now,” he said, forgetting his hunger. He hopped
out of the pond and walked towards the end of it where there were more rocks than
grass and reeds. It was a rocky surface on this side of the pond, with many holes
and spaces all around for small creatures to hide.

The heron had to pick his way carefully because he did not want to accidentally take
the wrong step and get stuck between two or more rocks. He had thin legs that would
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

go right through the gaps in the ground. He finally stopped on top of a

sturdy rock and looked around.

“Where are you?” he asked himself. Surveying the landscape, first looking left and
then right, his eyes alighted on who he was looking for.

It was a crab! It was a small, red crab that stood perfectly still on top of another
rock.

Seeing the animal, the heron immediately pretended to look sadder. He made a very,
very sad face, pulled down his beak, and even squeezed a tear out of his eyes.
Anybody looking at the heron would have thought: “Poor heron! He must be going
through a very tough time in his life.”

Then he walked on over to the crab and tried to catch his attention. The crab, who
knew the heron well, did see him moaning and groaning. He instantly jumped off
the rock he rested on and came wobbling to the heron.

“What’s the matter, heron?” he asked.

The heron looked down at the crab, and his expressions became worse! He started to
wipe the tears from his eyes with his wings, and his long legs trembled.

“Oh! Alas! Alack!” the heron sobbed.

“Oh, dear,” said the crab, coming closer to the bird. “You really are in a very bad
way.”

The crab was a kind and sympathetic creature. He liked to help all those around
him, and he couldn’t stand the sight of the worried heron. “What is the matter?”
he asked.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

“The matter,” the clever heron said, “is that I think I am going deaf. Just
yesterday, I could not hear the birds chirping, and today I don’t think I can
even hear other animals sing.”

As he spoke, he walked closer to the edge of the pond, and the crab followed.

“Hmm,” said the crab. “Are you sure there was any singing going on in the first
place?” he asked.

“I have been told there was! The rest of the herons were swaying left and right on
their feet. It was only I who was confused!”

“I know what we can do,” offered the crab. “How about I sing a song for you right
now, and you can tell me if you are able to hear it or not?”

The heron perked up. “Will you really do that, dear crab?” he asked, standing
straight, and spreading his wings in excitement. By now, he had walked into the
water of the pond and stood some way into it.

The crab nodded and took his spot on top of a rock. “Of course,” he said. “What
else are friends for.”

With this, he took a deep breath in and started to sing. The crab had a wonderful
voice. He was known all around the pond as the best singer, and the heron had
known this. With his songs, all animals were attracted to come closer.

Slowly, as the crab sang with his eyes closed, fish in the pond began to gather at the
edge of the water. They wanted to listen to the crab better! Sawing his chance, the
heron began to gobble the fish up. One, two, three, five, seven, fish! He pecked them
out of the water and ate them.

This went on for a few days. Every day, the heron would come to find the crab and
ask him to sing since it made his hearing better. And the crab sang with his eyes
closed, not being able to see that the heron was eating the fish that had come to
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

listen to the crab’s song. He started to notice that the heron was looking very
pleased with himself as days passed. He even looked a bit fat!

One day, when the heron came to find the crab, the crab was sitting on his usual
rock, but he looked rather glum.

“Hey-ho!” said the heron. “Is everything alright, dear crab?” he asked.

The crab was resting his head on his claws. He shook his head. “I have been singing
so much that my throat feels a little sore.”

The heron worried. What! If the crab was unable to sing, then how would he
manage his lunch? “What can I do?” he asked desperately!

“Would you really help?” asked the crab.

“Of course,” replied the heron. “That’s what friends are for.”

The crab stopped to think. Then he spoke after a while. “There is a weed at the
bottom of the pond there,” he said. “It is very healing for the throat, but you have to
reach very deep and pull it out from the bottom of the pond.”

“I can do that!” said the greedy heron. “I have a long beak, you see.”

“Thank you so much,” replied the crab, coming closer to the heron as they walked to
the pond together. “Just around that edge there,” he said pointing, “that’s where you
will find the weed.”

The heron stepped into the pond. He

bent over and pushed his beak as far
as he could. In a few seconds, he
could feel the bottom of the pond. But
there were no weeds there!

Image 2
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

“Now!” said the crab, and many fish gathered. They all carried a long piece
of rope they had found from a sunken boat, and they circled the heron’s
beak with this. Truly wounding up the bird’s beak, they tied him up so tightly that
the heron could not open his mouth!

“Wassisthissss!” he snarled through an opening in his beak. He pulled his beak out of
the water for the crab to see.

“Very good work,” the crab said, talking to the fish that now peered out of the pond.
Then he spoke to the heron: “You have been using my kindness to attack fish and
eating more than you should! I hope this is a lesson for you to be a better bird and a
better friend!”

Images for the story have been provided by:

• Image 1: brgfx on Freepik

• Image 2: brgfx on Freepik

The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

Class 4B and the Laughing Gas

The environment in Class 4B was tingling in a state of excitement. Mr Salman
entered the classroom and looked sternly at the children through his black-rimmed
glasses. He was one of their most entertaining teachers! He wore colourful dress shirts
and very funky ties; ties with interesting patterns, and cartoons, and quotes. He was
loving, but he was also the easiest to annoy.
The children knew his stern look well. They knew some other teacher must have
complained about them to him. They expected one of his famous speeches, and to be
told to stay in during the break. But Mr Salman was just teasing them. Instead, he
gave them some good news.
“The day after tomorrow,' he announced, 'we're all going to the Science Fair at the
Expo Centre!”
The children clapped and cheered! They loved nothing better than going on trips with
Mr Slaman. He explained things to them very well, and he also allowed them to play
after they were done studying.
“Calm down!” said Mr Leonard in a loud whisper. “Calm down! If you keep up this
racket, Mrs Khan in 4A will come and scold us all. Then we will truly be in
trouble.”
The children giggled and fell silent immediately.
Mr Slaman tip-toed to the front of the class. “Tomorrow,' he continued calmly.
“We'll learn about gases. You'll see lots of fine displays at the Fair, so I want you to
read up all you can about gases, BEFORE then.”
“Yes, Sir!” the children shouted in reply, and Mr Salman slapped his forehead in
defeat.
There was a rapid knock at their door, and they heard Mrs Khan speak angrily
from the other side. “If you cannot get your students to study, Mr Salman,” she
said, “I suggest that you stay back from the trip tomorrow and make up for time
that you lose in having fun!”
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

At break time the children shouted and chattered as much as they liked.
“What's the day after tomorrow?” asked Farhan to nobody in particular, as
they trooped outside.
“Another day?” suggested Shumaila chuckling.
“Wednesday,” said Maham, who always knew what day it was. “Why?”
“If we're going to the Fair, we'll miss all our classes!” gasped Farhan. 'We'll
skip...er…on Wednesday, what do we have?
“Maths, double period of English, and History in the morning, followed by Science,
Urdu, and Arts in the afternoon,” said Junaid, quick as a flash.
“We'll miss them all!” cried Farhan gleefully.
Shumaila pumped her fist in the air. “Double English! Yes!” she exclaimed.
Mrs Khan taught them English, and none of the students in Class 4B were too fond
of her. She always scolded them, and blamed Mr Salman for their behaviour.
Farhan gave a little shiver, rolled his eyes, and smiled from ear to ear. He was so
delighted that he performed a little dance. Mrs Gul, the Geography teacher, popped
her head out of the windows of 5B and glared at him.
Farhan instantly pretended he was chasing away a wasp.
The other children moved away. They hurried to the playground, and huddled
together in small groups. All the talk that day was about the coming trip to the
Science Fair. Maham loved Science! So, they all gathered around her as she told
them all she knew about gases and their different properties.
The following morning, Mr Salman began to tell the children about gases. He forgot
to ask them if they had read about any, until Uzma informed him that she had
learned about oxygen the night before.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

“Aha!” said Mr Salma, as if he had just made an important scientific

discovery. “I asked you to read about gases, did I not? And here am I telling
you about them. Come now, Mohsin, tell me, what did you read?”
Mohsin was cleaning his fountain pen with his handkerchief when he heard his name
being spoken; his mind was certainly not in the classroom. His handkerchief had been
white some weeks ago. Now it was speckled black, blue, and green.
He hastily put it on his desk and stood up, still clutching the pen and fiddling with
its cap. Then he dropped the pen on the floor, bent over to pick it up, knocked his
head on the side of his desk on the way up, smiled, rubbed his head, and made a
series of mewing noises, like a lost cat. He was a very anxious boy.
“If you hold your pen upside down, Mohsin,' suggested Mr Leonard, 'the ink will flow.
The gases in the air will not stop the ink from flowing out or making your fingers
dirty.'
Mohsin inspected his fingers. They were now completely blue. He scowled angrily at
his pen, as if it had been personally responsible for the mess.
Farhan came to Waleed's rescue. He stretched his hand high over his head to draw
the attention of Mr Salman. “Me, Sir, Me!” he shouted. “I know that the air round
the world is full of gases. Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and helium
are the names of some gases.”
“Very good!” said Mr Salman. “I see that you did your homework. Can you name
any one gas and its properties?”
Farhan had, in fact, not done any homework. He had only paid attention when
Maham had been telling them about gases the previous day. He desperately looked in
her direction, and she spelled out H-E-L-I-U-M for him. The only problem was that
Farhan was terrible at spelling too! Behind Maham, Shumaila jumped in her seat
and made the shape of a balloon with her arms.
“Balloons!” Farhan said. “Helium gas, Sir,” he cried, suddenly remembering what
they had discussed.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

“Well done, Farhan!” said Mr Salman. “Imagine you have a bunch of

colorful balloons at a birthday party. Now, if you fill those balloons with air
from your lungs, they will float around you but will eventually fall to the ground.
But here’s where the magic happens with helium!” he continued, starting to teach.
“Helium is a special kind of air that is super light. When you put helium inside a
balloon, it makes the balloon float up in the sky, almost like it has invisible wings! It’s
like the balloon is filled with giggles and wants to play in the clouds.”
The students in Class 4B were all mesmerised. What a magical gas!
“Not only does helium make balloons float,” Mr
Salman said mischievously, “but if you ever hear
someone’s voice sound funny and squeaky, like a
cartoon character, they might have just taken a
tiny breath of helium. It’s safe in small amounts,
but you should always be careful and only let
grown-ups handle it”
On Wednesday, the children assembled in the
classroom early. Mr Salman, arriving shortly
afterwards, wheeled his old bicycle into the
veranda and leaned it against the low wall
separating the veranda from the playground. He
was wearing a particularly bright yellow dress
shirt for the trip and on top of this, he wore a
tie with balloons of all colours! He hurried in Image 1

and took the register. He instructed the children

to leave quietly and assemble in an orderly manner inside the school gates.
Ten minutes later a long line of children could be seen making their way into the
Expo Centre. At the Fair, the children saw many interesting experiments. They
learned how some gases burst into flames, and they sniffed at others. Mr Salman
was pleased he had brought them.
On their way out of the Fair, the children were each given a large balloon filled
with helium. The balloons were so light that they wanted to take off into the air.
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

Shumaila and Mohsin got into an argument about their balloons and let go
of the strings. The balloons shot up into the air and got caught in the
branches of a large tree. Fahad wasted no time. He asked Maham to hold onto his
balloon, and he climbed up the tree. The others cheered loudly as Fahad brought the
balloons down safely.
Soon, the children were back at school. Mr Salman warned them outside: 'Do not
make a racket. Mrs. Khan is waiting for you inside. I am going to go report to the
principal about our trip, while she will mark your attendance before all of you are
allowed to go home.”
The students of Class 4B groaned. Not Mrs Khan! They had all spent a brilliant day
at the Fair. They were happy and full of energy; they did not want to be scolded.
They wanted to end the day with Mr Salman and on a good note.
As the children entered the classroom, a few balloons floated up to the ceiling and
stuck there. Farhan and Mohsin climbed onto the desk and began jumping to catch
hold of the trailing strings. Some of the others released their balloons too and joined
in this game. The ceiling was soon looking very bright. Shumaila grabbed at one
balloon, and it burst with a loud bang.
“What on earth is going on?” cried Mrs Khan, stepping into the classroom.
“The balloons are trying to leave the earth, Ma’am,” cried Farhan. “The helium is
taking them away! Everyone is trying to leave the earth, too!”
Mrs Khan took hold of Farhan's arm. The others calmed down immediately.
“Now listen carefully,” said Mrs Khan, still holding Farhan's arm firmly. Farhan
did not look too comfortable. The more he pulled away, the tighter became Mrs
Khan's grip.
“Be quiet, all of you!” scolded Mrs Khan. “Take your balloons and let out their air. I
will not have chaos in my classroom! You have enjoyed enough at the Fair, and with
your balloons. Now it is time to come back to school.”
The City School – Story Troves – Level 4

The students looked at each other and did as they were told. Together, the
helium gas of at least thirty balloons was let out in the classroom. Shumaila,
very quietly, closed the only window that was open.
“Settle down, now,” said Mrs Khan. Her voice slowly started to become squeakier as
she read out their names one by one: “Farhan,” she called out.
“Here, Ma’am,” Farhan called out in a high-pitched voice and the whole class burst
into laughter!
“Quiet down!” shouted Mrs Khan, but her voice too only sounded like the voice of a
small mouse. The class laughed even more. Shumaila fell off her seat laughing.
The commotion reached Mr Salman, and he came running to his class only to find
all his students in fits of laughter. “What is happening here, Mrs Khan?” he asked.
“The children,” she replied very angrily, “have played an awful trick! I asked them
to release the air in their balloons, and who knows what they have done instead.”
She sounded like a very upset squirrel.
Mr Salman started to laugh. “Air! It wasn’t air, Mrs. Khan,” he informed her. “It
was Helium!”

Images for the story have been provided by:

• Image 1: macrovector on Freepik