Beverly Cleary_Ellen 01

by Ellen Tebbits

  Beverly Cleary

  Ellen Tebbits

  Illustrated by

  Tracy Dockray

  Contents

  1. Ellen’s Secret

  2. The Biennial Beet

  3. Leave It to Otis

  4. Ellen Rides Again

  5. The Twins

  6. The Substitute Rat

  7. Dusty Erasers

  About the Author

  Other Books by Beverly Cleary

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  1

  Ellen’s Secret

  Ellen Tebbits was in a hurry. As she ran down Tillamook Street with her ballet slippers tucked under her arm, she did not even stop to scuff through the autumn leaves on the sidewalk. The reason Ellen was in a hurry was a secret she would never, never tell.

  Ellen was a thin little girl, with dark hair and brown eyes. She wore bands on her teeth, and her hair was scraggly on the left side of her face, because she spent so much time reading and twisting a lock of hair around her finger as she read. She had no brothers or sisters and, since Nancy Jane had moved away from next door, there was no one her own age living on Tillamook Street. So she had no really best friend. She did not even have a dog or cat to play with, because her mother said animals tracked in mud and left hair on the furniture.

  Of course Ellen had lots of friends at school, but that was not the same as having a best friend who lived in the same neighborhood and could come over to play after school and on Saturdays. Today, however, Ellen was almost glad she did not have a best friend, because best friends do not have secrets from one another. She was sure she would rather be lonely the rest of her life than share the secret of why she had to get to her dancing class before any of the other girls.

  The Spofford School of the Dance was upstairs over the Payless Drugstore. When Ellen came to the entrance at the side of the building, she paused to look anxiously up and down the street. Then, relieved that she saw no one she knew, she scampered up the long flight of steps as fast as she could run. There was not a minute to waste.

  She pushed open the door and looked quickly around the big, bare room. Maybe her plan was really going to work after all. She was the first pupil to arrive.

  Ellen’s teacher, Valerie Todd Spofford, was looking at some music with Mrs. Adams, the accompanist, at the piano in the corner of the room. She was really Mrs. John Spofford and had a son named Otis, who was in Ellen’s room at school. Because she taught dancing, people did not call her Mrs. John Spofford. They called her by her full name, Valerie Todd Spofford.

  “Good afternoon, Ellen,” she said. “You’re early.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Spofford,” answered Ellen, and hurried past the long mirrors that covered one wall.

  When Ellen opened the dressing-room door, she made a terrible discovery. Someone was in the dressing room ahead of her.

  Austine Allen was sitting on a bench lacing her ballet slippers. Austine was a new girl, both in the dancing class and in Ellen’s room at school. Ellen knew she had just come from California, because she mentioned it so often. She thought the new girl looked good-natured and untidy, but she really had not paid much attention to her.

  “Oh,” said Ellen. “Hello. I didn’t know anyone was here.”

  “I guess I’m early,” said Austine and then added, “but so are you.”

  The girls looked at each other. Ellen noticed that Austine had already changed into the required costume of the Spofford School of the Dance. This was a short full skirt of tulle gathered onto a sateen top that had straps over the shoulders. Austine looked chubby in her green costume.

  Neither girl spoke. Oh, why doesn’t she leave, thought Ellen desperately. Maybe if I wait long enough she’ll go into the other room. Ellen removed her jacket as slowly as she could. No, I can’t wait. The others will be here any minute.

  “This is a silly costume we have to wear,” said Austine. “When I took ballet lessons in California we always wore shorts and T-shirts.”

  “Well, I think it’s pretty,” said Ellen, as she took her pink costume from the rack along the wall. Why don’t you go away, she thought. She said, “It’s almost like real ballerinas wear. When I’m wearing it, I pretend I’m a real dancer.”

  Austine stood up. “Not even real ballerinas practice in full skirts like these. They wear leotards. In California…”

  “Well, I think leotards are ugly,” interrupted Ellen, who was glad she knew that leotards were long tight-fitting garments. “They look just like long underwear and I wouldn’t wear one for anything. I like our dresses better.”

  “I don’t,” said Austine flatly. “I don’t even like dancing lessons. At least in California…”

  “I don’t care what anybody does in California,” said Ellen crossly. “I’m tired of hearing you talk about California and so is everyone at school. So there! If you think California is so wonderful, why don’t you go back there?”

  For a second Austine looked hurt. Ellen almost thought she was going to cry. Instead she made a face. “All right for you!” she said, and flounced out of the dressing room, leaving her clothes in an untidy heap on the bench.

  Instantly Ellen was sorry. What a terrible thing to say to a new girl! What if she herself were a new girl and someone had said that to her? How would she have felt? She hadn’t really meant to be rude, but somehow it had slipped out. She was so anxious to have Austine leave that she had not thought about what she was saying.

  But now that Austine was gone and Ellen was alone, there was not a moment to waste, not even in feeling sorry for what she had done. Feverishly she unbuttoned her sweater. She was starting to unfasten her dress when she heard some of the girls coming through the classroom.

  Frantically Ellen looked around the dressing room for a place to hide. She darted behind the costume rack. No, that wouldn’t do. The girls might see her when they took down their costumes.

  Snatching her pink dancing dress from the bench, Ellen dashed across the room and into the janitor’s broom closet, just as the girls came into the room. If only there were some way of locking the closet door from the inside! Ellen stood silent and rigid. When no one came near the door, she relaxed enough to look around by the light of the window high in the closet. She could see brooms, a mop and buckets, and a gunny sack full of sweeping compound.

  Careful not to knock over the brooms and buckets, she leaned against the door to listen. She could hear Linda and Janet and Barbara. Then she heard Betsy come in and, after a few minutes, Amelia and Joanne. Ellen counted them off on her fingers. Yes, they were all there.

  Trying to move carefully so she wouldn’t bump into anything, she took off first her starched plaid dress and then her slip. But she was so nervous that she knocked over a broom. She stood terrified and motionless until she realized that the girls were chattering so noisily they did not hear the thud. If one of the girls had opened the door at that moment, they all would have learned her terrible secret.

  Ellen was wearing woolen underwear.

  She was wearing a high-necked union suit that buttoned down the front and across the back. It did have short sleeves and short legs, so it could have been worse. Ellen didn’t know what she would have done if her mother had made her wear long underwear.

  With trembling fingers she slipped her arms out of the despised garment, rolled it as flat as she could down to her waist, and pulled the elastic of her panties over the bulge. Quickly she slipped into her costume.

  “I wonder where Ellen is,” she heard someone ask.

  “I don’t know,” someone answered.

  “Maybe she isn’t coming today.”

  Ellen was limp with relief. She was safely in her costume. No one had seen
her in her underwear. Nobody could tease her and tell her she was old-fashioned because, besides being the only girl in the third grade who had to wear winter underwear, she was the only girl in the whole school who did.

  She took off her shoes and socks, laced her slippers, and waited, shivering, until all the girls left the dressing room. Then she slipped out of the closet and, after piling her clothes neatly on a bench, joined the others in the classroom.

  A couple of girls were running and sliding the length of the room, and others were practicing at the exercise bar that was built along the mirror-covered wall. All the girls stopped when Ellen appeared.

  “Well, where did you come from?” asked Linda Mulford.

  “The dressing room,” answered Ellen briefly, as she took hold of the bar and began to practice a circular movement of one leg that Mrs. Spofford called a rond de jambe. She felt uncomfortable, because all the girls were looking at her. She hoped the bulge around her middle did not show.

  “I didn’t see you,” said Amelia.

  Ellen pretended to be so interested in rotating her leg that she didn’t hear. If she kept moving, maybe no one would notice the goose flesh on her bare shoulders.

  “I didn’t see you either,” said Joanne. “Where were you?”

  “Oh, I was there,” said Ellen vaguely. “You just didn’t see me.”

  She twirled her leg faster. Then she looked in the mirror and saw Austine watching her. Ellen felt sorrier than ever for what she had said, because Austine looked so unhappy. She was practicing alone at the end of the bar and none of the other girls were talking to her.

  Valerie Todd Spofford walked to the center of the room. “All right, girls,” she said. “Let’s get in line in front of the mirror.”

  The girls stood several feet apart, in a row. Ellen was careful not to stand near Austine, who, she could tell by looking in the mirror, remained at the end of the line.

  Valerie Todd Spofford stood in front of the girls with her back to the mirror. “Now, girls, we will go through the five positions of the ballet. Remember, ballet dancing is based on these positions. To be good dancers we must learn them perfectly. First position.” She stood with her heels together and her toes turned out, and held her arms slightly out from her sides. The girls imitated her as she looked critically up and down the line.

  “Knees together, Joanne,” she corrected.

  “Turn your toes farther out, Amelia. That’s right, Linda. Splendid!”

  Ellen was careful to do everything exactly right, because she did not want Mrs. Spofford to call attention to her. The five positions of the ballet were easy for her, because she practiced them every night before she went to bed. Now, as she pointed her toes and held out her arms, she thought more and more about what she had said to Austine. What a terrible person she was to make a new girl unhappy! Again she looked in the mirror at Austine and thought how lonely she looked, standing at the end of the line a little apart from the other girls.

  Ellen knew what it felt like to be lonely, because she had been lonely herself since Nancy Jane had moved away. Maybe Austine sat on her front steps and wished she had someone to play with. Maybe she hoped someone in the dancing class would ask her to come over after school. The very least Ellen could do was to be friendly. She made up her mind to tell Austine she was sorry the first chance she had.

  “Fourth position,” said Mrs. Spofford. “No, Janet. We do not raise both arms over our head in the fourth position.” She walked over to Janet and arranged her arms so that one was circled over her head and the other was held out from her side.

  Here was Ellen’s chance! When she saw that Valerie Todd Spofford was not watching the whole class, she slipped out of her place in line, darted behind several of the girls, and stepped into line beside Austine, where she quickly assumed a perfect fourth position.

  “Austine,” she whispered, “I’m sorry I said what I did. I really didn’t mean it. Honestly, I didn’t.”

  “Ellen,” said Mrs. Spofford sharply, “have you forgotten that we do not whisper during our dancing lesson?”

  “No, Mrs. Spofford,” said Ellen.

  “All right, girls. Fourth position again!”

  Ellen arranged her arms and legs in the correct position once more. Mrs. Spofford was watching, so Ellen could not catch Austine’s eye in the mirror. Had Austine forgiven her? She couldn’t tell, but she hoped so. The more she thought about the lonely new girl, the more she wanted her for a friend.

  It was not until Valerie Todd Spofford asked the girls to assume the fifth position that Ellen felt her underwear slip. Oh my, she thought, what am I going to do now? How can I hold it up when I have to raise my hands over my head? Carefully she arranged her feet and lifted her arms to form a circle. The underwear slid alarmingly.

  As she stood in the fifth position, Ellen heard someone running up the long flight of stairs. When the footsteps neared the classroom, she heard a jingling sound. Oh dear, thought Ellen. That sound could mean only one person—Otis Spofford.

  Most of the boys and many of the girls at school owned a cowboy hat or neckerchief. Several even had boots, but Otis was the only one who owned a pair of real spurs that jingled when he walked.

  Now he burst into the room, the spurs on his tennis shoes clinking against the hardwood floor. “Hey, Mom,” he demanded, “can I have a dime?”

  “Otis dear, you are interrupting the lesson,” answered his mother, as the girls lowered their arms and turned to look at him. “All right, girls, let us do the fifth position again.”

  Ellen carefully arranged her feet so that the heel of one foot touched the toe of the other foot. Then, just before she raised her arms to form a circle over her head, she gave her underwear a quick hitch.

  Looking into the mirror to see if the bulge showed, she saw that Otis was standing directly behind her. He too arranged his feet, made a hitching motion, and raised his arms. At the same time he blew a huge bubble with his gum.

  Ellen was horrified. What if Otis guessed her trouble! She was even more horrified when she felt her underwear slipping again. Quickly she put her hand on her hip.

  Otis put his hand on his hip.

  Ellen raised her arm again. The underwear slid still more.

  Otis raised his arm again and blew another bubble.

  “Now, girls, we will go through the positions once more. First position,” said Mrs. Spofford.

  Ellen set her heels together and turned her toes out. She gave her sliding underwear a discreet tug before she held her arms out from her sides.

  Otis turned his toes out, tugged, and held his arms out from his sides.

  Ellen turned and whispered fiercely, “Otis Spofford! You go away!”

  Otis looked cross-eyed at Ellen and blew another bubble with his gum.

  “Ellen Tebbits,” said Mrs. Spofford, “I have already spoken to you about whispering in class.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Spofford,” replied Ellen.

  “Second position,” said Mrs. Spofford.

  Ellen had been pressing her knees tightly together to keep her underwear from slipping. Now she grasped it again, at the same time trying to feel through her costume for the elastic of her panties, and yanked it into place. She could tell that her underwear had come unrolled. Then she held her arms out from her sides.

  Miserable because she could do nothing to stop Otis, Ellen watched him in the mirror. He copied her movements exactly.

  By this time all the girls were watching Ellen and Otis in the mirror. Ellen knew they could not help seeing how thick she was around the middle.

  “Third position,” said Mrs. Spofford.

  Ellen was determined not to tug at her underwear again. Surely it could not fall any farther. She moved as carefully as she could, but once more the underwear slid. Ellen had to grab it and pull it into place.

  This time the girls giggled when Otis imitated her. Ellen swallowed and blinked her eyes to keep from crying. Why did Otis have to pick on her? Why couldn’
t he tease someone else?

  Then, to her amazement, Austine spoke out loud. “Otis Spofford! You stop bothering us,” she said loudly.

  Everyone was startled, because no one ever talked out loud during a ballet lesson. The girls stopped looking at Ellen and stared at Austine. Ellen gave her underwear a good hard tug while no one was watching. Was Austine really trying to keep Otis from teasing her? If only Ellen knew for sure.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Spofford,” said Austine. “Otis is bothering me so I can’t do the steps right.”

  “Otis dear,” said Mrs. Spofford, “you know Mother doesn’t like her boy to come into the studio while she is giving a lesson.”

  “Can I have a dime?” asked Otis.

  “Mother is busy now, Otis,” said Valerie Todd Spofford. “All right, girls. Let’s do our exercises at the bar.”

  Otis clinked across the floor to the piano, where he leaned over the keyboard and amused himself by blowing bigger and bigger bubbles with his gum.

  After the exercises at the bar, Mrs. Spofford had the girls practice the Dance of the Falling Leaves while Mrs. Adams played Rhapsody of Autumn on the piano and glared at Otis.

  Every time Ellen leaped, her underwear slipped. After each leap she had to clutch it and pull it into place. In the mirror she could see that she looked more and more bulgy. Leap and clutch, leap and clutch. Ellen thought they would never finish being falling leaves.

  When Mrs. Adams came to the end of Rhapsody of Autumn, Otis added to the tune by picking out “Shave and a haircut—six bits” on the bass keys of the piano. Mrs. Adams was annoyed, but Otis looked pleased when the girls giggled. Ellen was glad he had found someone else to tease.

  Mrs. Spofford did not pay any attention to Otis. “Once more, girls,” she said.

  Then it was leap and clutch, leap and clutch again. Ellen stayed as far away from Otis as she could and hoped he would continue to bother Mrs. Adams.

  Finally Valerie Todd Spofford clapped her hands for attention. “Ellen Tebbits,” she said. “I think you have forgotten. Falling leaves do not put their hands on their hips. They flutter their arms slowly and gracefully.” She fluttered her arms slowly and gracefully.