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Hello, everybody. My name is Bob Graham, and I'm here to congratulate the teachers, parents and especially the students of Phyllis Wheatley Elementary School for following the steps of your school's namesake. Phyllis Wheatley loved writing and reading because books introduced her to new worlds and new people.

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Phyllis Wheatley is love of books must have been contagious because more and more students at Phyllis Wheatley Elementary have been picking up a book instead of turning on the TV. I love to read to and try to read a book a week. One of my favorite books growing up was The Black Stallion.

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This book is on loan from the Library of Congress. I'll read you part of the first chapter. The story begins with a hero, Alex, on a ship traveling from India to the United States. One day, the Drake headed from a small Arabian port. As they approached the small landing, Alex saw a crowd of natives milling around in great excitement.

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Obviously, it's not often that a boat stopped there, but as the gangplank went down with a bang, Alec could see that it wasn't the ship itself that was attracting all the attention the natives were crowding around the center of the landing, Alec heard a whistle, shrill, loud, clear, unlike anything he'd ever heard before.

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He saw a mighty Blackhorse rear on its rear hind legs, its forelegs striking out into the crowd. A white scarf was tied across its eyes. The crowd broke and ran. White lather ran from the horse's body. His mouth was open, his teeth bared. He was a giant of a horse, glistening black, too big to be a pure Arabian.

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His main was like a crest mounting, then falling low. His neck was long and slender and arch to a small, savagely beautiful head. The head was that of the wildest of all creatures, a stallion born wild. It was beautiful, savage, splendid, a stallion with a wonderful physical perfection that matched his savage, ruthless spirit.

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Once again, the black screamed and rose on his hind legs. Alec could hardly believe his eyes and ears. A stallion, a wild stallion unbroken, such as he had read and dreamed about. Two ropes lead from the halter on the horse's head, and four men were attempting to pull the staggering towards the gangplank.

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They were going up to put him on the ship, Alex saw a dark skinned man wearing European dress and a high white turban giving directions and his hand. He held a whip. He gave his orders tersely and language unknown to Alex. Suddenly, he walked to the rear of the horse and let the hard whip fall on the blacks hind quarters.

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The stallion bolted so fast that he struck one of the natives holding the rope down. The man went and lay still. The black snorted and plunged. If ever Alex saw hate expressed by a horse, he saw it. Then they had him halfway up the plane. Alec wondered where they would put him if they ever succeeded in getting on the boat.

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Then he was on. Alex saw Captain Watson waving his arms, frantically motioning and shouting for the men to pull the stallion towards the stern. The boy followed at a safe distance. Now he saw the makeshift stall into which they were attempting to get the black. But it had been a good sized cabin.

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The Drake had little accommodation for transporting animals. It's whole was already heavily laden with cargo. Finally, they had the horse in front of the stall one of the men clamored to the top of the cabin, reach down and pull the scarf away from the stallion's I.

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At the same time, the dark skinned man again hit the horse on the hind quarters, and he bolted it inside. Alec thought the stall would never be strong enough to hold it. The stallion tore into the wood and send it flying thunder roll from the under.

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His hooves, his powerful legs crashed into the side of the cabin. His wild, shrill, high pitched whistle sent shivers up and down Alex spine. He felt a deep pity steel over him. For here was a wild stagnant used to the open range. Imprisoned in a stall in which he was hardly able to turn, Captain Watson was conversing angrily with a dark skinned man.

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The captain had probably never expected to ship a cargo like this. Then the man pulled a thick wallet from inside his coat. He counted the bills off and handed them to the captain. Captain Watson looked at the bills, and then at the stall, he took the money, shrugged his shoulders, walked away.

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The dark skinned man gathered the natives around him, who would help bring the stallion aboard, gave them bills from his wallet, and they departed down the gangplank. Soon the Drake was underway. Again. Alec gaze back at the port, watching the group gathered around the inert form of the native who had gone down under the blacks.

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Mighty who's then? He turned to the stall, the dark skinned man who had gone to his cabin and only the excited passengers were standing around outside the stall. The black horse was still fighting madly inside. The days that followed were hectic ones for Alex passengers and the crew.

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He had never dreamed a horse could have such spirit to be so untamable. The ship resounded far from the into the night, from the blows struck by those powerful legs. The outside of the stall was now covered with reinforcements. The dark skinned man became more mysterious than ever, always alone, never talking to anyone but the captain.

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The Drakes steamed through the Suez into the Mediterranean. That night, Alex stole out on the deck, leaving the rest of the passengers playing cards. He listened carefully. The black was quiet tonight. Quickly, he walked in the direction of the stall at first, he couldn't see or hear anything.

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Then his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. He made out the pink colored nostrils of the black, who was sticking his head out of the window. Alec walked slowly towards him. He put one hand in his pocket to see if the sugar he had taken from the dinner table was still there.

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The wind was blowing against him, carrying his sent away. He was quite close down. The black was looking out on the open sea, his eyes sharp, his ears pricked forward, his thin skin nostrils quivering, his black mane flowing like wind swept flames. Alec could not take his eyes away.

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He could not believe such a perfect animal existed. The stallion turn and look directly at it. His black eyes blazed once again, that piercing whistle fill the night air and he disappeared into a stone. Alec took the sugar out of his pocket and left it on the window sill.

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He went to his cabin later, when he returned, it was gone. Every night Thereafter, Alec would steal up to the stall, leave the sugar and depart. Sometimes he would see the black. Other times he would only hear the ring of hooves against the floor. Do you think Alec and Black become friends?

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Do you think Alec ever gets to ride the blank? To find out? Check out the Black Stallion from your school library. Thanks again for being good readers.