Ellen Tebbits (5 page)

As she jumped from the bicycle, the hem of her dress caught on the wire basket and tore.

“Oh my,” said Ellen, as she looked at the tear. It was such a pretty dress and now it was spoiled.What would her mother say?

“Here, take your old beet,” said Bruce, who did not enjoy having a lot of thirdgrade girls staring at him. “I haven’t got all day.”

“Thanks a lot, Bruce,” said Ellen shyly.

“Aw, that’s all right. Now I’ve done my good deed for the day,” said Bruce, and pedaled off to the bicycle racks.

“Broth-er! Are you a mess!” yelled Otis cheerfully, when he saw Ellen. “When Miss Joyce sees you, I bet she sends you home!” Such a thought had not occurred to Ellen. “She will not send me home,” she answered, but her voice quavered. Otis was probably right. She was so wet and muddy Miss Joyce would send her home to change her clothes.Then she would not get to show her beet to the class and would never get to clap erasers.

Otis, who never cared about being tardy, splashed through the rain to Ellen.“You tore your dress,” he announced.

“I know it,” said Ellen crossly.

Otis began to chant loudly, “I see London, I see France, I see somebody’s under . . .”

Ellen clutched her raincoat around her and shouted, “Otis Spofford, you keep quiet!”Then she burst into tears.

“I see London, I see France, I see somebody’s . . .”

“Otis Spofford, you shut up this very instant!” It was Austine. She ran splashing through the puddles. “Come on, Ellen,” she said, taking her by the arm.“I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

“But it’s time for the second b-bell,” said Ellen, as she tried to wipe her eyes with the back of one muddy hand. “You’ll be tardy.”

“No, I won’t,” said Austine. “When I saw you might be late, I asked Miss Joyce if I could go help you get the beet and she said I could. Come on.”

“I see London, I see France,” sang Otis.“I see . . .”

“Otis Spofford! You mind your own business,” snapped Austine. “Ellen is my best friend and I won’t have you picking on her!”

3

Leave It to Otis

Soap, water, and lots of paper towels removed much of the mud from Ellen. “I’m beginning to look cleaner,” she said, “but what shall I do about this awful tear in my skirt and this beet juice? It won’t wash off.”

Austine thought a while. “I know,” she said.“You keep on scrubbing. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She returned with a roll of Scotch tape that she always kept in her pencil box and her extra sweater. Quickly she tore off pieces of tape and stuck Ellen’s dress together.

“There. That ought to hold if you don’t move around too much. Mother always says just about anything can be mended with Scotch tape or a hairpin.” Austine gave Ellen’s skirt a final pat. “Now put on my sweater and button it all the way down the front.”

Ellen’s fingers were so cold she could hardly push the buttons through the holes.

“Your sweater is awfully big on me,” she said, thinking how lucky she was to have Austine for her best friend. And they really were best friends now. Austine had said so herself.

“That’s better,” said Austine. “You stand by the radiator for a while and dry off some more.”

“I guess I am pretty wet,” said Ellen.

“How do I look?” she asked anxiously.

Austine studied her critically. “Well, you don’t look as good as you did when you started for school, but at least your collar is pretty clean and my sweater is so long on you, it covers up a lot of the beet juice.You look better than you did a little while ago.”

“You don’t think Miss Joyce will send me home, do you?” Ellen tried to smooth some of the wrinkles out of her skirt. “Otis said she would.”

“I don’t think so,” said Austine. “When you sit at your desk, the dirt will hardly show at all. Don’t pay any attention to that old Otis Spofford. He just thinks he’s smart.” Ellen tried to fluff out her hair with her fingers. “Maybe we better not stay here any longer. Miss Joyce might send someone to look for us.” She picked up her beet.

“That’s the biggest beet I’ve ever seen,” whispered Austine, as they walked quietly through the empty halls to their room. “I know Miss Joyce will ask you to clap erasers now.”

Miss Joyce was listening to part of the class recite from the
Away We Go
reader at a circle of chairs in the front of the room.The boys and girls were taking turns reading aloud slowly and with expression. Ellen tiptoed across the room and laid her precious beet on the teacher’s desk. Miss Joyce nodded and smiled at her.

Then Ellen quickly slipped into her seat, so her muddy skirt wouldn’t show. She took her arithmetic workbook out of her desk and started to work her problems for the day. Miss Joyce had smiled, so she must be pleased.

Now Ellen would surely get to clap erasers.

And not only that; she would also get to tell the class about her biennial beet during science period. Ellen could hardly wait.

She glanced at the plant on Miss Joyce’s desk. She hoped some of the other children were looking at it, too. It was such a big beet. Probably no one in the room had ever seen such a big beet before. And just think, it had taken two whole years for the plant to grow that flower.Why, when that beet was a seed, Ellen was a little girl in the first grade.

Ellen looked around to see if anyone else was admiring her beet. George, who sat in front of her, was looking at something, but it was not her beet. He was leaning across the aisle, staring at something on Otis’s desk.

Ellen looked too. She saw four small brown objects, about the size of peas. They were rolling from side to side. Ellen couldn’t imagine what they were or what made them move. As she watched, one of the brown objects hopped.

By this time some of the other boys and girls were staring at Otis’s desk.

“What are they?” whispered George.

Otis did not answer. He swept the objects into the palm of his hand and watched them rock back and forth. Ellen still couldn’t understand what made them move. Otis was not moving them. He held his hand still.

Then he put them back on his desk. The things continued to rock.

Ellen, leaning farther out of her seat to watch the mysterious things, accidentally knocked her arithmetic workbook on the floor. The noise made Miss Joyce look up, and all the boys and girls who had been watching Otis were instantly busy with their arithmetic. Otis was busiest of all.

Ellen hastily picked up her workbook.

Goodness, she had better be more careful.

Miss Joyce certainly wouldn’t send her out to clap erasers if she interrupted the lesson.

However, the teacher did not say anything, but went on with the reading.

In a few minutes Otis was playing with the little brown objects again.

“Aw, come on, Otis. What are they?” whispered George once more.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” answered Otis.

Ellen couldn’t keep still any longer.

“What makes them move?” she whispered.

“I see London, I see France,” murmured Otis, as he watched the little brown objects in his hand.

“You do not!” said Ellen, and quickly returned to her arithmetic.

Linda, who sat in front of Otis, turned around to watch. “I know what they are,” she boasted.

Just then the little group noticed that the reading circle in the front of the room had stopped reciting. Miss Joyce had closed her book and was watching Otis and the boys and girls who sat near him.

“Otis, what do you have in your hand?” Miss Joyce asked.

“Nothing,” answered Otis. Miss Joyce looked at him, but did not speak. “Aw, just some Mexican jumping beans,” he admitted.

“I’m sure all the boys and girls are interested in your jumping beans, Otis,” said Miss Joyce, “but instead of interrupting our lessons by playing with them, I think it would be much nicer if you showed them to the class during our science lesson.”

“I know what makes them jump,” said Linda eagerly, without even raising her hand. “It’s a little worm . . .”

“Never mind, Linda,” interrupted Miss Joyce. “Otis will tell us about the jumping beans during the science lesson. Put them in your pocket until this afternoon, Otis.” Then Miss Joyce went on with the reading lesson.

Ellen and Austine exchanged worried glances. They both knew everyone would rather hear about jumping beans that came from far-off Mexico and jumped all by themselves than about Ellen’s beet, which just grew in a vacant lot a few blocks from school and didn’t do anything.

That old Otis Spofford, thought Ellen. He would have to bring his jumping beans to school today.Why couldn’t he have brought them yesterday or tomorrow? And after I worked so hard to bring the beet to show Miss Joyce. It’s just like Otis. If I had brought jumping beans to school, he’d probably walk in leading a kangaroo or something. Now Miss Joyce is more interested in his beans than my beet. He’ll probably get to clap erasers, and he’s already clapped them three times since school started. It just isn’t fair.

Ellen found she could not keep her mind on her arithmetic.After a while she saw Otis slip his hand in his pocket and take out his jumping beans again. He put them on the 77

seat beside him and watched them roll back and forth. Ellen couldn’t help watching.

“Otis Spofford!” said Miss Joyce suddenly.

“If I have to tell you once more to put those Mexican jumping beans back in your pocket, I shall have to take them away from you.”

“Yes, Miss Joyce,” said Otis.

Ellen was secretly pleased, but she wished Miss Joyce had said Otis would not get to tell about his beans. She didn’t know what she would do if Miss Joyce forgot all about her beet. Maybe she could remind her somehow.

Then Miss Joyce dismissed the
Away We
Go
readers, and they took their seats. She went to the section of the blackboard that was reserved for the class’s daily news.At the top was printed “Our News.” Under that Miss Joyce printed the date. Ellen watched her chalk move across the blackboard.

“Today is Thursday,” she wrote. “It is raining.” Then she asked, “Has anyone any suggestions for news?”

After glancing anxiously at Ellen, Austine waved her hand so frantically that Miss Joyce could not help seeing her. “You could put down that Ellen brought a beet,” said Austine.

“That is a splendid suggestion.” Miss Joyce wrote, “Ellen brought a beet for our room.”

Ellen and Austine exchanged a triumphant look. Again Ellen thought how lucky she was to have such a loyal girl for her best friend. Austine wouldn’t let Miss Joyce forget about the beet if she could help it.

Otis waved his hand.“You could put that she sure got dirty bringing the beet.” Ellen and Austine gave him a disgusted look.

Miss Joyce suggested,“Let’s say it in a different way.” She wrote, “Ellen worked very hard to bring the beet.”

Ellen smiled modestly. She noticed that Austine was whispering to Amelia and wondered what they were saying.

Miss Joyce said, “We have room for one more sentence. Has anyone any sugges-tions?”

Amelia raised her hand and said, “You could say that Ellen is going to tell us about the beet when we study plants today.” Miss Joyce wrote the sentence on the blackboard while Amelia and Austine smiled at Ellen. So that was what they were whispering about! Ellen might have known her best friend would think of something like that.

Now Ellen knew that at last she had pleased Miss Joyce. Hadn’t she written on the blackboard that Ellen had worked hard to bring the beet and that she was going to tell the class about it? Surely Miss Joyce would reward such a hard worker by choosing her to clap erasers.

All through social studies and arithmetic and lunch period Ellen waited anxiously for afternoon recess.When the class went to the blackboard to do spelling, she wrote her words over and over as fast as she could, just so she could erase them and be sure that one eraser was good and dirty.

Finally the time came. When Miss Joyce looked around the room, Ellen held her breath. She didn’t know what she would do if Miss Joyce didn’t choose her. “Let’s see,” said the teacher. “Who will take the erasers out to clean them during recess? Ellen, you may take half of them.”

Ellen let out her breath in a sigh of relief.

At last Miss Joyce had chosen her to clap erasers! Now she knew Miss Joyce liked her as much as she liked the other boys and girls.

Then Miss Joyce said,“Otis, you may take the rest of the erasers.”

Oh dear, thought Ellen in dismay, anybody but Otis. It was just her luck to have to clap erasers with Otis after waiting so long.

She just knew Otis would do something to spoil everything. He always did. He was that kind of boy.

“Yes, Miss Joyce,” said Otis, dropping three of his jumping beans on the floor.

With a guilty look, he quickly leaned over to pick them up.

“I am sorry, Otis,” said Miss Joyce. “You are not cooperating. You were supposed to keep your Mexican jumping beans in your pocket until our science period. Bring them to me and I will keep them in my desk until after school.”

“Aw,” muttered Otis as he gathered up his beans and handed them to Miss Joyce.