Henry and Ribsy (Henry Huggins #3)(19)

“That’s right, Miss Mullen,” said Beezus, from the middle of the jungle gym.

“I have a samwidge in my lunch box,” screamed Ramona.

“But the child was obviously frightened,” said Mrs. Wisser. “She was crying as if her little heart would break.”

“She was crying before she climbed up there,” said Beezus.

“I’m sure Ribsy wouldn’t hurt anyone,” said Miss Mullen.

Henry was surprised to learn that the principal knew his dog’s name.

Miss Mullen smiled. “We all know Ribsy very well at Glenwood School,” she said. “He meets Henry under the fir tree every day after school. I’ve been watching him from my office window for a long time and he has never annoyed any of the children. In fact, he’s unusually good-natured.” Then Miss Mullen looked up at Ramona. “You may come down now,” she said, pleasantly but firmly.

Ramona scowled but she climbed down.

“Now give Ribsy his bone,” said Miss Mullen.

Ramona looked sulky as she unfastened the lunch box and handed Ribsy his bone. He took it in his mouth and looked at Henry as if to say, “Can’t we go home now?”

The crowd of mothers, some looking a little embarrassed, began to drift away.

“Thank you, Miss Mullen,” said Mrs. Huggins.

“Gee, thanks, Miss Mullen,” said Henry gratefully. “I didn’t know what I was going to do. They were going to send Ribsy to the pound.”

Miss Mullen smiled. “That’s all right, Henry. I understand. I have three dogs of my own at home, you know.”

“You do?” Henry was astounded. Miss Mullen with three dogs! He had never thought of her as having any life outside Glenwood School at all. But three dogs!

As the principal went back into the building, Beezus took a Kleenex out of her pocket and held it to Ramona’s nose. “Blow,” she said. Ramona blew.

“It really wasn’t Ribsy’s fault,” Beezus said to Mrs. Huggins.

Henry’s mother smiled. “I understand.”

Then Beezus handed her little sister the potato chips. “Here’s your P.T.A.,” she said crossly. “I hope you’re satisfied.”

Mrs. Wisser, however, did not give up easily. “I know you’re fond of the dog,” she said to Mrs. Huggins, “but he really did frighten the child.” Then she squatted down on her heels so she could look into Ramona’s face. “Did the doggy frighten you, dear?” she asked.



“No,” said Ramona, staring at Mrs. Wisser. Then she squatted down on her heels, too. Henry thought this made Mrs. Wisser look very silly. Ramona stuffed another potato chip into her mouth as Mrs. Wisser hastily stood up. “I like P.T.A.,” announced Ramona.

“I just bet you do,” said Henry. “Come on, Beezus. If we hurry, maybe we’ll have time for one game of checkers before dinner.” And then because he knew his fishing trip was safe, Henry began to sing, “Woofies Dog Food is the best.”

Beezus joined him on the second line and together they sang, “Contains more meat than all the rest!”





6


Ribsy Goes Fishing




I can’t find my tin pants,” Mr. Huggins announced Friday evening after supper.

“Dad!” shouted Henry. When his father got out his tin pants, which were not tin at all but heavy canvas, Henry knew it meant only one thing. His father was going fishing—salmon fishing. “I get to go, too, don’t I? Don’t I, Dad?”

Mr. Huggins grinned at Henry. “Think you can get up at three in the morning?”

“Sure, I’ll get up! Boy, oh, boy, I bet I catch a bigger salmon than anybody!”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” said Mr. Huggins. “I’m afraid a twenty-or thirty-pound chinook would be too much for you to handle.”

“Aw, I bet I could land one,” boasted Henry. After all, if he could lift Robert when they practiced tumbling, a twenty-five-pound fish couldn’t be so heavy. He could see himself having his picture taken with his salmon in one hand and his rod in the other. Well, maybe he couldn’t hold up such a big fish with one hand but he could prop it up some way.

“Henry,” Mrs. Huggins looked thoughtfully at her son, “you mustn’t be too disappointed if you don’t catch anything.”

“I won’t, Mom, but I just know I’ll catch a salmon.” Henry patted his dog, who was dozing in front of the fireplace. “Did you hear that, Ribsy? We’re going fishing!”

“Hey, who said anything about Ribsy?” asked Mr. Huggins.

“Aw, Dad, he wouldn’t be any trouble,” protested Henry. “Would you, fellow?” Ribsy opened one eye and looked at Henry.

“If Henry is old enough to go fishing, so is Ribsy,” said Mrs. Huggins. Then she smiled and said, “Tomorrow is my vacation. I’ll pack your lunches tonight and you can get your own breakfast. I’m going to sleep late and I don’t want to have to get up to let Ribsy in and out.”

“All right, Ribsy goes fishing,” agreed Mr. Huggins.

“Where are we going?” Henry wanted to know.

“I thought we’d try our luck at the mouth of the Umptucca River,” answered Henry’s father.