Henry and Ribsy (Henry Huggins #3)(5)

“That’s all,” said Henry. “Eat your Woofies like a good dog. A Woofies dog is a happy dog. See, it says so right here on the can.”

“Wuf,” said Ribsy, and went to the refrigerator to show that what he really wanted was another piece of horse meat.

“All right, just one more piece,” said Henry, opening the refrigerator door. “You’ve stayed out of trouble for nearly two weeks so I guess you deserve it.”

Mrs. Huggins hung up the dish towel. Henry started to put the empty Woofies can in the step-on garbage can his mother kept under the sink. Mr. Huggins stepped aside to let Henry pull it out. Henry did not have to step on the pedal to raise the lid. The lid was already up, because the can was so full of garbage it would not close.

Ribsy came over to sniff just in case someone had thrown away a bone by mistake. Henry carefully balanced the Woofies can on top of some potato peelings. He was about to push the garbage can back under the sink when his mother spoke. “I am tired of taking out the garbage,” she announced firmly.

Henry and his father looked at each other. Then Mr. Huggins said, “Henry, your mother is tired of taking out the garbage.”

Henry didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to get mixed up with garbage.

“I have taken out the garbage every day for eleven years,” said Henry’s mother.

“Eleven years,” said Mr. Huggins. “Think of it!”

“Day in and day out,” said Mrs. Huggins, and laughed.

“Year after year,” Mr. Huggins went on.

Henry did not see why his mother and father thought this was so funny. He couldn’t say he was tired of taking out the garbage, because he had never taken it out. Instead he said, “Well, so long. I’m supposed to go over to Robert’s house to work on his electric train.”

“Just a minute, Henry,” said his father. “It’s just as much your garbage as ours.”

Henry didn’t think this was very amusing. “Aw…” he muttered. He didn’t want to have anything to do with smelly old garbage. None of the other kids on Klickitat Street took out garbage, at least not every day.

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Mr. Huggins. “I’ll raise your allowance fifteen cents a week if you’ll take out the garbage.”

“You mean take it out every day?” asked Henry, in case his father might mean every other day. He eyed the heaped-up can. Garbage, ugh! He could understand his mother’s being tired of it, all right.

“Every day,” said Mr. Huggins firmly.

“Maybe there’s something else I could do to earn fifteen cents,” Henry suggested hopefully. “Something like…like…”

“No,” said his father, “just garbage.”

Henry thought. His allowance was now twenty-five cents a week. That plus ten cents made thirty-five cents, plus another nickel made forty cents. He could find lots of uses for the extra money. Most fathers would just say, “Take out the garbage,” without offering to pay for the job. And there probably were worse things than garbage, although right now Henry couldn’t think what. Besides, if he didn’t say yes, his father might tell him he had to take it out anyway.

“OK, it’s a deal,” said Henry without any enthusiasm. He held his nose with one hand and lifted the garbage container out of the step-on can with the other.

“Oh, it’s not as bad as all that,” said Mrs. Huggins cheerfully. “It’s nice fresh garbage.”

Ribsy followed Henry out the back door, sniffing as he went, and watched Henry lift the lid off the thirty-gallon galvanized metal can that was just like the can standing by the back door of every other house on Klickitat Street. Henry peered into the can, which was half full of garbage. Ribsy put his paws on the edge of the can and peered in, too. Most of the garbage was wrapped in newspapers so it was not as bad as Henry had expected. However, some of the juicier garbage had soaked through the paper, and the whole thing was pretty smelly, especially a couple of old tuna fish cans. Henry emptied the container and took it back into the kitchen. Then he and Ribsy went over to Robert’s house.



That week Henry took out the garbage every day. His mother never had to remind him more than twice. By the end of the week the can was full of soggy newspapers, old dog food cans, pea pods, grass clippings, chicken bones which Ribsy was not allowed to chew, used tea bags, and dabs of this and that, all blended into a tangled smelly mess. Henry could not keep from peering into the can to see how awful it all was. Ugh, thought Henry, and hoped he wouldn’t have to take the garbage out for eleven years. He wondered how much one of those electric garbage chopper-uppers cost that some people had installed in their sinks.

Henry had never thought much about Monday before, but now it was an important day—the day the garbage man emptied the can and hauled away the garbage. Then Henry could start all over with a new set of smells.

Monday morning Robert and Scooter came over to Henry’s house to see what they could find to do. Scooter tinkered with the chain on his bicycle, Henry held one end of a rope while Ribsy tugged at the other end, and Robert sat on the front steps and thought. In the distance Henry could hear the rattle and thump of garbage cans as the garbageman emptied them.

Robert spoke first. “There was a girl in my room at school last year who was double-jointed.”