Betsy and Billy (8 page)

Like a flash she was off. "Here, Thumpy! Here, Thumpy!" she called. As she neared the corner she could hear a great deal of barking. Around the corner she flew. Sure enough, there was the dogcatcher's wagon. A man with a big net was chasing a little black cocker spaniel across the street. "Swish!" went the big net right over Thumpy, and Betsy saw her little dog scooped up like a fish.

Betsy ran toward the man with the net, but before she could reach him Thumpy had been tossed into the wire cage on the wagon. The cage was packed with wriggling, squealing, barking dogs.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" shrieked Betsy. "Don't take Thumpy away!"

The man paid no attention to Betsy. He jumped on the back of the wagon and away it went with all of the dogs.

Betsy ran after the wagon as fast as her legs could carry her. She could see Thumpy looking out of the wire cage. Tears ran down her cheeks and her legs grew very tired but on and on she ran. The wagon was getting farther and farther away. Thumpy looked like a black spot now. Betsy tried to run faster but her breath was giving out. She had to keep running. She couldn't stop
now. They were taking her little Thumpy away. Her precious Thumpy!

Just then the dogcatcher's wagon disappeared over a hill. Betsy sat down on a step and put her head down on her arm. She cried and cried and cried. She was so tired from running and she had lost Thumpy after all. Betsy was still sobbing when a bright red automobile stopped beside her. "I say, Little Red Ribbons!" shouted the man in the automobile. "What's the trouble?"

Betsy looked up. There was Mr. Kilpatrick sitting at the wheel of the automobile.

"Oh, Mr. Kilpatrick!" cried Betsy, "the dogcatchers have taken Thumpy. They went over that hill with Thumpy and now I'll never see him again."

"Get in," said Mr. Kilpatrick, opening the door of the car.

Betsy got in. "Now stop crying," said the policeman; "we'll get Thumpy all right."

"Can you make them give Thumpy back to me, Mr. Kilpatrick?" asked Betsy.

"Now there's no use in chasing the wagon," said Mr. Kilpatrick. "The thing to do is to go to the dog pound where they dump them out. We'll wait for them there. It will cost you fifty cents to get Thumpy back. Is he worth fifty cents?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Kilpatrick," cried Betsy. "I have fifty cents in my bank. I would give all of the money in my bank to get Thumpy back."

"That settles it!" said Mr. Kilpatrick, as he turned the car around. "We'll stop at your house and you can get your money."

When they reached Betsy's house, Betsy jumped out. In a second she was back again. She had her little bank in her hand. "I've got the money," she cried as she climbed into the car.

While Mr. Kilpatrick drove to the dog pound,

Betsy opened her bank with the little key that hung on a chain around her neck. She took out ten nickels.

"You're sure they will give Thumpy back to me for fifty cents, aren't you, Mr. Kilpatrick?" said Betsy.

"Sure as your name is Betsy!" said Mr. Kilpatrick.

The red automobile drove up to the gates of the dog pound just as the dogcatcher's wagon drove through the gates.

"There he is!" cried Betsy. "There's Thumpy!"

Thumpy was still looking out through the wire cage. He looked surprised and very sad. When he saw Betsy, he gave a little bark and wagged his stubby tail.

Mr. Kilpatrick and Betsy got out of the car. They went into a little office. Mr. Kilpatrick told the man in the office that they had come for Betsy's dog.

"Very well," said the man, "come pick him out."

Betsy went out to the wagon and pointed to Thumpy. The man lifted him out of the wire cage and put him on the ground. Thumpy rushed to Betsy. He jumped up and down barking little happy barks. Betsy picked up her little dog and hugged him tight. "Oh, Thumpy!" she cried, "I'm so glad to see you."

"Now you keep him off the street," said the man.

"Oh, I will," replied Betsy, handing over her fifty cents.

Betsy climbed back into Mr. Kilpatrick's car and he drove Betsy and Thumpy home.

"Oh, Mr. Kilpatrick, I don't know what I would do without you."

"Sure," said Mr. Kilpatrick, "I don't know myself what you would do. It was a good thing I came along, just in the nick of time."

"Oh, yes," said Betsy. "Thank you so much."

When Betsy reached home, she told Mother and Father all about Thumpy and the dogcatchers.

"I thought you said that you wouldn't go after Thumpy if the dogcatchers got him," said Father.

Betsy pressed her cheek against Thumpy's silky head. She looked up into Father's eyes. Then Betsy and Father laughed very hard.

"Perhaps Thumpy will be good now," said Betsy.

"Perhaps," said Father, "but I wouldn't trust him with a beefsteak."

One rainy day in April the children were so wiggly that Miss Grey felt like the "Old Woman That Lived in a Shoe."

"She had so many children, she didn't know what to do."

Christopher had tied Betsy's braids together in a knot twice. Kenny had dropped a marble down the neck of Ellen's dress. Betty Jane cried because Billy untied her sash every time she went to the front of the room to write on the blackboard. Miss Grey tried very hard to teach her second grade how to tell time by the clock. Nobody seemed to care what time it was. They just watched the rain run down the windows in rivers.

At last Miss Grey said, "Let's talk about our May Day. It won't be long until May Day."

The children all sat up and their faces brightened.

"Are we going to have a May Queen?" asked Betsy.

"Yes, indeed," said Miss Grey. "It wouldn't be May Day without a May Queen."

"And a maypole?" asked Mary Lou.

"Yes," said Miss Grey, "but we must plan something more to entertain your mothers and fathers. Let's all put on our thinking caps and see if we can think of something nice to do."

The children sat quietly and thought very hard. Billy thought so hard that his face was wrinkled up like a withered apple. Betsy stared straight ahead with her eyes glued on a picture of Little Bo-Peep. Then she looked at the rest of the Mother Goose pictures that hung above the blackboards. Suddenly Betsy had an idea. She raised her hand.

"Yes, Betsy," said Miss Grey, "have you thought of something?"

Betsy stood up. "I think it would be nice if we dressed up like the Mother Goose children and looked like those pictures over the blackboards."

"Why, Betsy, that is a lovely idea," said Miss Grey. "How many children would like to be Mother Goose children?"

All of the children raised their hands.

"Well, Betsy," said Miss Grey, "it was your idea so you can choose what you would like to be."

"I would like to be Mary Had a Little Lamb," replied Betsy, "because my grandfather has lambs on his farm and he might let me have one to bring to school on May Day."

The rest of the afternoon went very fast indeed. No one looked out of the windows at the rain. No one thought of naughty things to do. Everyone was busy thinking about May Day.

By the time the bell rang for the children to go home everything was settled. Ellen was to be the May Queen because she was the prettiest little girl in the class. Billy wanted to be Tom, Tom, the Piper's Son. Mary Lou wanted to be Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary. Kenny and Sally were to be Jack and Jill. Betty Jane was delighted to be Little Miss Muffet. Richard was to be Little Jack Horner and Henry Little Tommy Tucker. There were enough Mother Goose children to give every child in the class a part. The children went home feeling very happy.

Betsy and Billy walked home together.

"Say, Betsy," said Billy, "do you really think your grandfather will let you have a real live lamb to bring to school?"

"I think so," said Betsy. "I'm going to write him a letter and ask him tonight."

"Gee," said Billy, "I wish I could have a real live pig. I have to say

'Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
Stole a pig and away he run.'

What am I going to have under my arm if I don't have any pig?"

"You could put the wastepaper basket under your arm," said Betsy.

"Aw, say!" said Billy; "who wants a wastepaper basket! I have to have a pig, I tell you. A real live pig."

"My granddaddy has pigs too," said Betsy.

"He has?" said Billy. "Do you think he would let me have a pig?"

"I don't think so," said Betsy.

"Why not?" asked Billy.

"Well, I never heard of anybody borrowing a pig," said Betsy.

"You're going to borrow a lamb, aren't you?" said Billy. "There isn't any difference between a lamb and a pig."

"Oh, yes, there is," laughed Betsy.

"I would take good care of it," said Billy, "and I would give it back to him."

"Well, I'll ask him," said Betsy.

That evening, Betsy wrote to her grandfather on the farm. This is what she wrote: