Henry and Beezus by Beverly Cleary

the kitchen sink, he ran outdoors and threw a paper at Ribsy. When the dog picked it up, Henry let him have a stream of water right in the face. Ribsy dropped the paper and backed away. Looking puzzled and embarrassed, he shook himself.
    â€œIt works!” shouted Henry. “It really works! I’m going to get Ribsy untrained after all.” He ran into the house again and filled his army-surplus canteen with water, in case he needed to reload his pistol.
    Beezus and Robert had the papers rolled and stuffed into the canvas bag, which Henry now lifted over his head. The Journals were heavier than he expected. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”
    By then Beezus had succeeded in getting the water pistol away from Ramona. “I’ll help you keep Ribsy covered,” she said.
    Henry threw a Journal onto the lawn of the first house on the list. Ribsy bounded after the paper, but the minute he opened his mouth to pick it up, Henry and Beezus shot him with two streams of water. Looking surprised and unhappy, Ribsy backed away from the paper and shook himself. The next time Henry threw a paper, Ribsy approached it cautiously. The instant he touched it, Beezus and Henry opened fire. This time Beezus shot from the hip.
    â€œYou’re dead!” shrieked Ramona. Ribsy decided he wasn’t interested in the paper after all.
    The third time Henry threw a paper, Ribsy ignored it. He was too busy sniffing a bush even to look at it.

    â€œGood dog,” said Henry, bending over to pet him. The weight of the papers in the canvas bag nearly tipped him over.
    Ribsy wagged his tail. “Good old Ribsy,” said Henry proudly. Ribsy was untrained at last.
    When the children returned after delivering all the papers without a single mistake, they found Scooter waiting on the front steps. “How many did your mutt run off with?” he wanted to know.
    â€œHe isn’t a mutt and he didn’t run off with any,” boasted Henry. “He wouldn’t touch a paper. See?” Henry tossed his own copy of the Journal onto the grass. Ribsy looked the other way.
    â€œI guess I did a pretty good job of delivering papers,” bragged Henry. “You won’t get any complaints tonight.”
    â€œThat’s right,” agreed Beezus. “I checked every address on the list with him just to make sure.”
    Scooter threw one leg over his bicycle.
    â€œAnd I get to deliver papers while you’re away, don’t I?” Henry was thinking of his bike fund again, now that Ribsy was untrained.
    â€œSure,” said Scooter, “if you don’t think it’s too hard work for a kid without a bike.”
    â€œYou just wait,” said Henry. “I bet I get that bike sooner than you think.”
    â€œHa,” said Scooter, pedaling down the street.
    â€œYou’re dead!” shrieked Ramona, squirting her pistol with deadly accuracy.

4
Henry Parks His Dog
    O ne Friday after school Henry was fixing himself a snack of bread, peanut butter, and strawberry jam when the doorbell rang.
    â€œCome in, Beezus,” he heard his mother say.
    As Henry went into the living room, he held up his bread and licked the jam that had run down his wrist. Beezus and her little sister Ramona each held a gnawed cabbage core. They had stopped eating because they were too polite to eat in front of people.
    Beezus handed Henry a newspaper clipping. “I thought maybe you’d like to see this.”
    â€œBikes for Tykes,” was the headline. “Lost Bicycles up for Sale Tomorrow.”
    â€œHey, maybe you’ve got something.” Henry read faster.
    â€œEnough bicycles—some hundred or more—have been found by the police this past year to equip half a company of soldiers, and tomorrow at ten A.M . they go up for auction at the Glenwood police station.”
    This was Henry’s chance. “Hey, Mom, look! Isn’t an auction where somebody holds up