Henry and Beezus by Beverly Cleary Page A

something and everybody says how much he’ll pay for it and the one who says the most gets it?”
    â€œYes, it is,” answered Mrs. Huggins, as she read the clipping.
    â€œBoy! I’ve got four dollars and fourteen cents saved. I bet I can get a bike for that much.” Henry pictured a hundred soldiers riding by on bicycles—and one of those bicycles was meant for him. He’d show old Scooter yet.
    Mrs. Huggins looked doubtful. “I wouldn’t be too sure,” she advised. “After all, there must be some reason why the bicycles haven’t been claimed. If you lost a bicycle you’d try to get it back, wouldn’t you?”
    â€œYes,” agreed Henry, who was sure most of the bicycles belonged to rich boys who had so many bikes they didn’t miss one when they lost it. “But I can go, can’t I, Mom?”
    â€œYes, it won’t hurt to try,” said Mrs. Huggins, “but don’t be too disappointed if you don’t get a bicycle.”
    â€œAnd I can go with you, can’t I?” asked Beezus eagerly.
    â€œWell…” Henry didn’t want to bother with Beezus. He wanted to go early and look the bicycles over. If he could get a good one, he would ride it in the Rose Festival parade in a couple of weeks and really show it off.
    â€œOf course you may go, Beezus,” said Mrs. Huggins. “Henry will be glad to take you.”
    â€œIsn’t it pretty far for Ramona to walk?” asked Henry. “It’s about ten blocks. Long blocks, too.”
    â€œOh, no. Ramona never gets tired,” said Beezus. “Daddy says he wishes sometimes she would, but she never does. Come on, Ramona. See you in the morning, Henry.” Gnawing on their cabbage cores, the girls left.
    â€œAw, Mom,” said Henry, “why did you have to go and say they could come with me? I don’t want to drag a couple of girls around all morning.”
    â€œNow, Henry,” said his mother firmly, “Beezus was nice enough to come and tell you about the auction, and it won’t hurt you to let her go with you.”
    â€œOh, all right,” muttered Henry.
    â€œWhy, Henry, you and Beezus used to play together so nicely. Don’t you like her any more?”
    â€œShe’s all right, I guess. She’s just a girl, is all,” said Henry, thinking of the shiny red bicycle he was going to buy the next day. Maybe Beezus would forget to come.
    But Beezus did not forget. The next morning after breakfast Henry found the two girls sitting on the front steps waiting for him. When Henry and Ribsy came out of the house, Beezus started down the walk. Ramona stood still until Beezus went back and made a winding motion behind her little sister. Then Ramona walked along beside her.
    â€œShe’s pretending she has to be wound up like a toy before she can walk, and I forgot to wind her,” explained Beezus.
    Henry groaned. Girls thought of the dumbest things. He tried to keep ahead of them so people wouldn’t think they were walking together. Ribsy trotted beside him.
    â€œHenry Huggins, you wait for us!” said Beezus. “Your mother said we could go with you and if you don’t wait I’ll tell on you.”
    â€œWell, come on then,” answered Henry crossly, anxious for a glimpse of that red bicycle before anyone else got there.
    Suddenly Ramona stopped. Beezus wound her up again and they went on. “She ran down,” explained Beezus.
    Girls! Henry was disgusted. It seemed to him that it had taken half the morning to go three blocks. He saw a couple of other boys walking in the same direction, and he wondered if they were going to the auction, too. He began to walk faster.
    Then Henry saw Mrs. Wisser, a friend of his mother’s, coming toward him. The sight of three more boys coming along on the other side of the street made Henry hope she wouldn’t stop him long.
    â€œWell, if it isn’t Henry