The Misadventures of Seldovia Sam. Susan Woodward Springer
The Misadventures of
Seldovia Sam
WRITTEN BY
Susan Woodward Springer
ILLUSTRATED BY
Amy Meissner
The Misadventures of Seldovia Sam
This edition © 2018
Originally published as
Seldovia Sam and the Very Large Clam
Text © 2003 by Susan Woodward Springer
Illustrations © 2003 by Amy Meissner
Seldovia Sam and the Sea Otter Rescue
Text © 2003 by Susan Woodward Springer
Illustrations © 2003 by Amy Meissner
Seldovia Sam and the Wildfire Escape
Text © 2005 by Susan Woodward Springer
Illustrations © 2005 by Amy Meissner
Seldovia Sam and the Blueberry Bear
Text © 2005 by Susan Woodward Springer
Illustrations © 2005 by Amy Meissner
Editor: Michelle McCann
Original book and cover design: Andrea L. Boven / Boven Design Studio, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the publisher.
Alaska Northwest Books®
An imprint of
GRAPHIC ARTS BOOKS
Publishing Director: Jennifer Newens
Marketing Manager: Angela Zbornik
Editor: Olivia Ngai
Design & Production: Rachel Lopez Metzger
2018 LSI
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file
ISBN 9781513261669
Proudly distributed by Ingram Publisher Services
Printed in the U.S.A.
Contents
Seldovia Sam and the Very Large Clam
Seldovia Sam and the Sea Otter Rescue
Seldovia Sam and the Wildfire Escape
Seldovia Sam and the Blueberry Bear
Seldovia Sam
and the
Very Large Clam
To Liam and Amelia Springer-Aleksoff.Read, Dream, Live!—S.W.S.
For Michael Dempsey,a cool Alaskan kid.—A.C.M.
Contents
The Too-Big Boots
Deep within his quilt and his scratchy-warm wool blankets, Sam turned over. He heard early morning sounds rising from the kitchen below. There was a soft, low whistle, then the skittering of dog toenails on linoleum, and finally the door opening and closing.
It was Dad letting Sam’s dog, Neptune, outside for her morning routine. Then Sam heard the wh-h-r-r-r of the coffee grinder and the clanking of pans on the big gas range.
Dad’s footsteps fell on the stairs, and his deep voice called, “Sam. Time to get up.”
Sam burrowed farther under the covers and pulled the pillow over his head. It muffled the sound of his father’s voice.
“Come on, Sam. The clams won’t wait.”
Sam was excited to go clamming with his father, but it was awfully hard to leave his warm bed.
Wh-o-o-os-s-h-h!!! Off flew the covers! Sam drew his legs up like a scared hermit crab as the cold air hit them. He opened his eyes, blinking.
Dad stood over him, smiling. “I know it’s tough to get up, Sam, but we have to get moving or else we’ll miss the good clam tide.”
Dad handed Sam his clothes and Sam shivered as he hurried into them. He followed Dad down the narrow wooden steps and hopped across the cold floor on his bare feet. He scrambled up onto a stool next to Dad.
“Good morning, love,” said Sam’s mother. She placed a steaming