Henry and Beezus

by Beverly Cleary

  “Look!” Beezus grabbed Henry’s arm and pointed to the platform where three girls from a dancing school had been tap dancing. “The drawing for the door prizes is starting. There’s the Rose Festival queen and her princesses.”

  As the crowd pressed toward the platform, the master of ceremonies announced that the owner of the first ticket the queen pulled from the barrel would receive, absolutely free of charge, one white sidewall tire from the Colossal Filling Station.

  “Maybe you’ll win it,” said Beezus.

  Henry wasn’t sure his father needed one white sidewall tire, since all his other tires were black, so he wasn’t disappointed when his name was not called. He soon lost interest in door prizes, because there were so many grown-ups in front of him that he couldn’t see what was happening.

  “Come on, Beezus,” he said. “I bet this is a good time to get free samples.”

  They found Robert and Scooter in front of the doughnut machine. “This is my third free sample,” said Scooter. “Come on, let’s see what else we can find.”

  They tasted catsup, potato chips, jam, and cheese. Soon the pockets of Henry’s jeans bulged with sample boxes and bottles of Oatsies, Glit, and 3-Minit Whisk-it. Then they came to a display of Woofies Dog Food. The man standing behind the table handed the children pamphlets that explained how Woofies made dogs woof with joy, because it was made of lean red meat fortified with vitamins.

  “Aren’t you giving away samples?” asked Henry, thinking of Ribsy.

  “No, I’m not,” answered the man, and then added jokingly, “but I’ll give you a can if you’ll taste it.”

  “No thanks,” said Henry.

  “Go on, taste it,” said Robert.

  “I bet you’re scared to,” scoffed Scooter.

  “I’m not either,” said Henry. “I just don’t feel hungry.”

  “Ha.” Scooter was scornful. “I dare you to eat it.”

  “Dares go first,” said Henry.

  “Only scaredy cats say that,” answered Scooter.

  Other boys and girls who were also collecting free samples gathered to listen to the argument.

  “Go on, eat it,” someone said. “I bet it isn’t so bad.”

  “Hey, gang!” a boy yelled. “He’s going to eat dog food!”

  “I am not,” said Henry, but no one paid any attention. The Woofies man borrowed a can opener from another booth. Jeepers, thought Henry, how did I get into this mess?

  The man clamped the opener onto the can. Henry looked around for a way out, but so many boys and girls were crowded around that he didn’t see how he could escape. He wondered how Woofies tasted. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Ribsy ate it. If Henry really did eat it, he would be pointed out at school as the boy who ate dog food. Then he would be pretty important.

  “Henry,” whispered Beezus, “don’t eat it.”

  Henry watched the can opener chew its way around the can. Ugh, he thought. He didn’t want to be the boy who ate dog food, no matter how much it impressed the kids. The man lifted the lid from the can, and Henry looked at the food made from lean red meat fortified with vitamins. At least it isn’t raw, he thought, and wished something would happen.

  Something did happen.

  The voice of the master of ceremonies blared out over the loudspeaker. “Henry Huggins!” The people around the platform laughed.

  “Hey, that’s me!” exclaimed Henry, bewildered. Why were all the people laughing?

  “Will Mr. Huggins come to the platform to claim his prize?” asked the master of ceremonies.

  Oh, thought Henry. The man meant his father. His father was Mr. Huggins, but it must be a mistake, because his father’s first name wasn’t Henry.

  “Is Henry Huggins present?” asked the master of ceremonies.

  “Henry, wake up,” said Beezus. “You won a prize.”

  Henry looked at the can of dog food. “Here!” he yelled as loud as he could, and the crowd made way for him. Whew, that was close, he thought. He was so glad to get away from the Woofies, he didn’t care what his prize was. Probably a basket of groceries.

  As Henry climbed the steps to the platform, the audience howled with laughter. Henry looked around to see what was so funny, but he couldn’t see anything to laugh at. Then he remembered the balloon tied to his beanie. Maybe that was it.

  “So you are Henry Huggins!” boomed the master of ceremonies.

  “Yes, sir,” answered Henry, starting at the sound of his own voice over the loudspeaker. Why didn’t people stop laughing? A balloon on a beanie wasn’t that funny.

  The master of ceremonies had an envelope in his hand. Henry, who was puzzled, looked inquiringly at him. What kind of a prize was it anyway? He had been so busy at the dog-food booth that he hadn’t been listening.

  “Henry Huggins, it gives me great pleasure to present you with fifty dollars’ worth of work at the Colossal Market’s own Beauty Shoppe!”

  Henry’s mouth dropped open and he felt his ears turn red. The crowd was a blur of pink faces in front of him, and laughter roared in his ears.

  The master of ceremonies opened the envelope and took out some coupons. “Here are all the things this young man is entitled to. Two permanent waves, six special glamour haircuts, six Vita-fluff shampoos, six waves, three facials, six manicures, and last but not least, one set of false eyelashes!”

  Henry looked at the floor while the audience shrieked. Jeepers, he thought. Now he really was in trouble. The kids would never let him hear the last of this. Why couldn’t he win a basket of groceries or a white sidewall tire like other people? He wished he had stayed and eaten the dog food.

  “Well, young man,” said the master of ceremonies, “don’t you have anything to say?”

  “Uh, thanks…I guess,” said Henry, horrified at the way his voice roared over the loudspeaker.

  The master of ceremonies pressed the envelope into Henry’s hand, slapped him on the back, and boomed, “Good luck with your prize, young man!”

  As Henry stumbled off the stage, Scooter got to him first. “When are you going to get your glamour haircut?” he demanded. “When are you getting false eyelashes?”

  “I bet…” Robert stopped to howl with laughter. “I bet you’re going to be the prettiest boy at Glenwood School.”

  “Yoo-hoo, Henry!” yelled a couple of strange boys.

  Scooter leaned against a shelf of canned goods and guffawed. “How are you going to wear your hair, Beautiful?”

  Henry was sure his ears would burst into flames if they got any hotter. “You’re not funny,” he snapped.

  “I know it,” snorted Scooter. “I’m not half as funny as you’re going to look with a glamour haircut and false eyelashes.”

  “I get it. Joke,” said Henry coldly.

  “Hi, Beautiful,” called a strange boy. “How’s the Vita-fluff shampoo?”

  “You’re not so funny,” said Henry.

  “I bet you’ll look real cute with a permanent wave,” said another boy.

  Henry glared and tried to move away, but there were too many people crowded around him. Jeepers, how was he ever going to get out of this?

  “Say, it’s the same boy who was going to eat Woofies,” Henry heard someone say.

  That gave Henry an idea. “Come on,” he said. “Where’s the Woofies man?”

  “Are you really going to taste it?” Robert asked, as Henry passed him.

  “Sure, I’m going to taste it,” said Henry bravely. Anything to make people forget that prize, he thought, as the boys and girls crowded after him.

  “I didn’t expect to see you again,” said the Woofies man, holding out the can and a wooden spoon.

  Henry dug the spoon into the dog food. Holding his breath, he popped a bite into his mouth and swallowed quickly. Why, it wasn’t so bad. He hardly tasted it. He was pleased to see that all the boys and girls looked impressed.

  “He really ate it,” said Beezus, squirming through the crowd surrounding Henry. She still clutched her garde
nia, which had turned brown from being sniffed so much.

  Henry calmly took another bite, held his breath, and got it down. “M-m-m,” he said. “It’s lots better than K-9 Ration.” And it was, too, because Ribsy preferred it.

  There, thought Henry, that ought to make them forget the prize. Now if he could just get out of here before anyone mentioned it again.

  “Here’s your free sample.” The man handed Henry a can of Woofies. “You earned it.”

  “Hey, Beautiful, how did it taste?” asked Scooter.

  Leave it to old Scooter, thought Henry. Now he had probably eaten the dog food for nothing.

  “Scooter McCarthy, you stop teasing Henry,” said Beezus. “You’re just jealous, because you didn’t win something like Henry did.”

  “Sure, you’re jealous,” said Henry, but he didn’t sound as if he meant it.

  “Joke,” said Scooter.

  “Henry, aren’t you thrilled?” Beezus’s eyes were shining.

  Henry looked at her. Was she crazy or something?

  “I wish I’d won fifty dollars’ worth of work at the Colossal Beauty Shoppe,” she said enviously.

  Well, what do you know! She really means it, thought Henry. These things were different with girls. Why couldn’t Beezus’s ticket have been pulled out of the barrel instead of his?

  “Henry, I have a dollar and five cents at home,” said Beezus. “Will you sell me a wave coupon? I know waves cost more, but that’s all I have.”

  Until then Henry had not really thought what he was going to do with the coupons. He supposed he would have thrown them away if there had been a trash can handy. Maybe he should just give Beezus the wave coupon. Still, she was a sensible girl, and she had offered to buy it. A dollar and five cents would certainly come in handy, since he had spent all his money at the bicycle auction.

  “Sure, I’ll sell it to you,” said Henry, delighted with her offer.

  “Thank you, Henry,” said Beezus gratefully. “Now I can have my hair waved for the parade. I’m sure Mother won’t mind just once for something special.”

  Then Henry saw his parents and Scooter’s mother looking over the heads of the children.

  “Come along, Henry and Beezus. We’re leaving now,” said Mr. Huggins. “Henry, you and your mother will have to get together about those coupons.”

  “Yes, Henry,” said Mrs. Huggins, “I need a permanent. I’ll give you the ten dollars and get it at the Colossal Beauty Shoppe. That would help your bike fund, wouldn’t it?”

  “Gee, Mom, would you?” Henry suddenly felt cheerful. Things weren’t so bad after all.

  Then Mrs. McCarthy said, “I don’t need a permanent right now, but I will in a month or so. I’ll give you ten dollars for the other permanent coupon.” She opened her purse and took out a bill.

  “Jeepers….” Henry was so pleased he couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “Hey, Mom,” protested Scooter.

  “What’s the matter, Scooter?” asked his mother. “Don’t you want me to help Henry?”

  “Well…uh,” said Scooter, “sure I do.”

  Hey, this is all right, thought Henry. Twenty-one dollars and five cents, just like that. And grown-ups didn’t even think about teasing him. If only he could think of a way to sell the rest of the coupons.

  Just then his mother said, “As soon as we get home, I’ll phone your grandmother. I’m sure she’ll be glad to buy some of your coupons.”

  “And what about his Aunt Doris?” suggested Mr. Huggins.

  “Yes, and I can phone some of the girls in my bridge club,” added Mrs. Huggins. She always called the ladies in her bridge club girls.

  Henry could scarcely believe his luck. He didn’t even have to think of a way to sell his coupons. And only a few minutes ago he had been wishing he hadn’t won them. Why, he might have thrown his riches away if Beezus hadn’t offered to buy a wave coupon.

  “I wish I’d won those coupons,” said Robert. “You’re sure lucky.”

  “I sure am,” agreed Henry. Funny, nobody thought about teasing him now.

  “Come on,” said Mr. Huggins. “We don’t want Beezus’s mother to think we’ve lost her.”

  “There goes the boy who ate dog food,” Henry heard someone whisper as he left the market.

  On the way home Mr. Huggins said to Henry, “Your bike fund is growing faster than you expected, isn’t it, Beautiful?”

  “Aw, Dad, cut it out.” Henry pounded his father with his fist.

  Everyone Mrs. Huggins spoke to agreed to buy some of Henry’s beauty-shop coupons. By Saturday afternoon all the items were spoken for except one. No one wanted false eyelashes.

  “Jeepers, Mom,” said Henry, “that’s almost fifty dollars in my bike fund, and my bike costs fifty-nine dollars and ninety-five cents. I’m almost there!”

  “Have you picked out a bicycle already?” asked Mr. Huggins.

  “I sure have, Dad. It’s a beaut.”

  Mr. Huggins smiled. “In that case I think we can manage the ten dollars.”

  “Boy, oh boy! Mom, how soon do you think we can collect the money for the coupons?” Henry didn’t see how he could wait another day. He was so close to that bicycle he could almost feel the handle grips in his hands and see the shiny new spokes twinkle as the wheels turned.

  His father said, “How would you like me to lend you the money until next week?”

  “Would you, Dad?” asked Henry eagerly. “It’s a lot of money.”

  Mr. Huggins rumpled Henry’s hair.

  “Come on. Get your Daniel Boone hat and I’ll take you down to the shop in the car. You can ride home on your new bike.”

  All Henry could say was, “Boy, oh boy!” as he ran into his room and snatched his genuine coonskin cap. Then he and his father and Ribsy drove to the Rose City Bike and Trike Shop.

  Henry went straight to the bicycle with the racy red frame and the built-in headlight. “I’ll take this one,” he said.

  “You’re sure that’s the right one?” asked his father.

  “Yes, that’s the one.” Of course Henry was sure. Hadn’t he gone out of his way to look at the bike at every possible chance for the last two weeks? Henry kept his hand on the bike until his father had written a check and the man had given him a receipt and a guarantee.

  “It’s all yours now,” said his father.

  “Gee….” Henry shoved up the parking stand and wheeled his bike out of the shop. His very own bicycle! He ran his fingers over the shiny frame and felt the leather on the seat. He turned on the built-in headlight and sounded the horn. Then he unsnapped his snap-on raccoon tail and fastened it to the handlebars. It was perfect.

  Henry beamed at his father. “So long, Dad. See you at home.” He threw his leg over the bike and rode off without wobbling once. Ribsy loped along beside him, and his father smiled and waved.

  Henry turned down Klickitat Street so he could pass Scooter’s house. When he saw Scooter sitting on his front steps folding Journals, he sounded his horn. He had waited a long time for this moment. “Hi, Scoot,” he said casually, as he pedaled by with his spokes twinkling in the sunshine and his raccoon tail fluttering in the breeze.

  About the Author

  BEVERLY CLEARY is one of America’s most popular authors. Born in McMinnville, Oregon, she lived on a farm in Yamhill until she was six and then moved to Portland. After college, as the children’s librarian in Yakima, Washington, she was challenged to find stories for non-readers. She wrote her first book, HENRY HUGGINS, in response to a boy’s question, “Where are the books about kids like us?”

  Mrs. Cleary’s books have earned her many prestigious awards, including the American Library Association’s Laura Ingalls Wilder Award, presented in recognition of her lasting contribution to children’s literature. Her DEAR MR. HENSHAW was awarded the 1984 John Newbery Medal, and both RAMONA QUIMBY, AGE 8 and RAMONA AND HER FATHER have been named Newbery Honor Books. In addition, her books have won more than thirty-five statewide awa
rds based on the votes of her young readers. Her characters, including Henry Huggins, Ellen Tebbits, Otis Spofford, and Beezus and Ramona Quimby, as well as Ribsy, Socks, and Ralph S. Mouse, have delighted children for generations. Mrs. Cleary lives in coastal California.

  Visit Henry Huggins and all of his friends in The World of Beverly Cleary at www.beverlycleary.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  Enjoy all of Beverly Cleary’s books

  FEATURING RAMONA QUIMBY:

  Beezus and Ramona

  Ramona the Pest

  Ramona the Brave

  Ramona and Her Father

  Ramona and Her Mother

  Ramona Quimby, Age 8

  Ramona Forever

  Ramona’s World

  FEATURING HENRY HUGGINS:

  Henry Huggins

  Henry and Beezus

  Henry and Ribsy

  Henry and the Paper Route

  Henry and the Clubhouse

  Ribsy

  FEATURING RALPH MOUSE:

  The Mouse and the Motorcycle

  Runaway Ralph

  Ralph S. Mouse

  MORE GREAT FICTION BY BEVERLY CLEARY:

  Ellen Tebbits

  Otis Spofford

  Fifteen

  The Luckiest Girl

  Jean and Johnny

  Emily’s Runaway Imagination

  Sister of the Bride

  Mitch and Amy

  Socks

  Dear Mr. Henshaw

  Muggie Maggie

  Strider

  Two Times the Fun

  AND DON'T MISS BEVERLY CLEARY'S AUTOBIOGRAPHIES:

  A Girl from Yamhill

  My Own Two Feet