"B" Is for Betsy (7 page)

"No," said Betsy, "I wanted to give Curly a puppy biscuit, but she wasn't in the yard."

"Wouldn' t Curly be sorry if she knew that she had missed a free lunch!" said Mr. Kilpatrick.

Betsy trotted along, thinking of Curly. Soon she reached the railroad station. As she walked under the bridge, she heard a whining cry. It sounded like a baby crying. Then she heard a little sharp bark. Betsy stopped and listened. She heard the cry again. Betsy looked around her. There was a dirt road beside her. The road led to the baggage station. Betsy started up the road. The cries grew louder, and the sharp bark sounded just like Curly. Betsy's heart beat very fast. She began to run. Back of the baggage station there was a big open lot. The cries came from somewhere on the lot. In a few moments she came upon a deep pit which had been dug in the ground. There in the bottom of the pit was Curly. "Oh, Curly!" cried Betsy. "How did you get way out here?" Curly gave little yelps and wagged her tail. Betsy stooped down to lift Curly out of the pit. It was so deep, she could not reach the little dog. Then Betsy lay down flat on her stomach. Now she could reach Curly. She took hold of her and lifted her out of the
pit. Curly was so happy she rolled over and over. Betsy took the strap off of her schoolbag and hooked it through Curly's collar. Then she started back to the house with the white picket fence.

Betsy wondered how she would ever be able to cross the wide street without Mr. Kilpatrick. "How did you ever get across that big wide street, Curly?" asked Betsy. Curly was busy sniffing the ground.

When they reached the street, there was a lady with a baby carriage, waiting to cross to the other side. When she saw Betsy and the little dog, she said, "You'd better hold on to the baby carriage, little girl." So Betsy held on to the carriage, and the lady and the baby and Betsy and Curly all went safely across the street.

"Thank you," said Betsy, as Curly tugged at the leash.

In a few moments they reached the house where Curly lived. Betsy opened the gate and rang the doorbell. She knew how glad Curly's master would be to see his little dog. When the old gentleman opened the door, Curly jumped up on him. "Curly," cried Mr. Applebee, "where have you been? I have been looking for you all day." Then Betsy told Curly's master of how she
had found the dog. Mr. Applebee thanked Betsy over and over again as he patted Curly's head.

"Now," said Mr. Applebee, "I will go with you and take you across the street." Betsy put the strap on her schoolbag while Mr. Applebee got his hat and cane.

Curly followed her master to the gate. She wagged her tail hopefully. "No, indeed, Curly, you can't come," said Mr. Applebee. "You have been far enough today."

Just as the gate closed, Betsy remembered something. She opened the little pocket on her schoolbag and took out the puppy biscuit. "Sit up, Curly," she said. Curly sat up and crossed her paws. "Speak!" said Betsy. Curly gave a sharp bark. Betsy dropped the biscuit and Curly caught it. "I wish I had a little dog just like Curly," said Betsy.

Every morning, after Betsy found Curly, the little dog waited by the fence for her puppy biscuit.

One morning, when Betsy reached the fence, Curly was not there.
I do hope Curly isn't lost again,
thought Betsy.

After school, Mr. Applebee was standing by the gate. "Betsy," he said, "come in and see what Curly has."

Betsy went into the house with Mr. Applebee. He led her back to an outside kitchen. There in a big wooden box lay Curly. Four little black puppies were nursing at her side. There were three black-and-white puppies and one coal black one.

"Oh!" cried Betsy. "The dear little puppies!"

Curly's master lifted them up, one by one. "Curly has four sons," said he. "Which one do you want, Betsy?"

"To keep, for my very own?" asked Betsy.

"Yes," said Mr. Applebee, "it is Curly's present to you for rescuing her from the pit."

Betsy looked at the puppies very carefully. It was hard to decide. At last she said, "I would like to have the little black one because he has such a funny little worry wrinkle between his eyes."

Mr. Applebee explained to Betsy that she would have to leave the puppy with Curly until he was big enough to live without his mother.

Every day Betsy stopped to see her puppy, and every night she told Mother and Father about him. She could not decide what to name him.

At last the day came when Betsy could take him home. Mother called for her after school,
and they stopped to get the puppy. Betsy held him in her arms all the way home. When they reached home, Betsy put the puppy down on the playroom floor. He ran all around, sniffing. Then he lay down and thumped his little tail very hard, "Thump! Thump! Thump!"

"Have you thought of a name for the puppy?" asked Mother.

Betsy looked at the puppy very lovingly. "Yes," she said, "Thumpy."

It was April. Betsy's father and mother had gone away on a trip. They were to be gone for a whole week. Mrs. Beckett, who had been Betsy's nurse when she was a baby, came to stay with Betsy while Father and Mother were away. Betsy loved Mrs. Beckett and thought it great fun to have her come to take care of her. They planned to have a picnic and to go to the zoo,
but when the time came it was raining. Rain! Rain! Rain! Betsy was sure she had never seen it rain so hard. Every morning she had to wear her rubbers and raincape and carry her umbrella. She could not go out to play with Thumpy after school, and Mrs. Beckett would not let Thumpy in the house. "He tracks mud all over," said Mrs. Beckett. So Thumpy lay sleeping in his cozy dog box in the yard and Betsy spent the long, dark afternoons wandering from one room to another. "I don't know what to do with myself, Mrs. Beckett," Betsy would say.

"Why don't you color pictures or make your doll a new dress?" Mrs. Beckett would answer.

"I don't want to," Betsy would say. "I just want to play with Thumpy."

On Friday morning, Betsy came down to breakfast feeling cross. It had stopped raining, but the sun was not shining.
Anyway I wont have to wear those old rubbers,
thought Betsy.

"Good morning, Betsy," said Mrs. Beckett, when Betsy came into the kitchen.

"Morning," murmured Betsy. "I don't want any oatmeal."

"Oh, yes!" said Mrs. Beckett. "Come sit down at your table and eat your oatmeal."

"But I don't want any," replied Betsy. "I don't like oatmeal."

"Sit down at your table and eat your breakfast," said Mrs. Beckett very sternly. Betsy sat down very slowly.

"I'll drink my milk," said Betsy.

"And you will eat your oatmeal, like a good girl," said Mrs. Beckett. She poured the cream on Betsy's dish of oatmeal.

Betsy drank her milk and played with the oatmeal. She dug a hole in the center of the oatmeal and watched the milk run down and fill up the hole.

"Betsy, you are going to sit right there until you eat your oatmeal," said Mrs. Beckett. Betsy sat a long time, playing with the oatmeal.

"I'll be late for school," said Betsy. "Mother won't like it if I am late for school."

"Very well," sighed Mrs. Beckett, and she looked out of the window. "You needn't wear your raincape, Betsy, but put on your rubbers."

"I don't want rubbers, Mrs. Beckett," said Betsy. "It isn't raining."

"But the pavements are very damp," said Mrs. Beckett.

"They make my feet hot," said Betsy. She began to cry.

Mrs. Beckett brought the rubbers. "Lift up your foot," said Mrs. Beckett.

"I won't wear those rubbers," cried Betsy. She picked up her schoolbag and ran out the door.

Betsy didn't feel at all happy as she trudged along. There were a great many puddles and her feet began to feel very damp. When she reached the white picket fence, Curly was waiting for her puppy biscuit, but Betsy had forgotten to put it in her schoolbag. It was too late even to stop and scratch Curly's ears. Curly looked disappointed as Betsy hurried by.

At recess time, the sun came out and the children made a great deal of noise in the schoolyard. Ellen had stayed home, so Betsy played with Betty Jane and Mary Lou, but it wasn't as much fun as playing with Ellen. Betsy wished that she had another sandwich. She felt so empty.