Betsy and the Boys

Illustrated by the author

AN ODYSSEY/HARCOURT YOUNG CLASSIC
HARCOURT, INC.
Orlando Austin New York San Diego Toronto London

Copyright 1945 by Harcourt, Inc.
Copyright renewed 1973 by Carolyn Haywood

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced
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should be mailed to the following address: Permissions Department,
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www.HarcourtBooks.com

First Harcourt Young Classics edition 2004
First Odyssey Classics edition 1990
First published 1945

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Haywood, Carolyn, 1898—
Betsy and the boys/Carolyn Haywood,
p. cm.
"An Odyssey/Harcourt Young Classic."
Sequel to: Back to school with Betsy.
Summary: Betsy and her fourth-grade friends discover football.
[1. Schools—Fiction. 2. Football—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.H31496Bg 2004
[Fic]—dc22 2003056555
ISBN 0-15-205106-6 ISBN 0-15-205102-3 (pb)

Printed in the United States of America

A C E G H F D B
A C E G H F D B
(pb)

To
Elfrieda Klauder Parker

1.
PANCAKES AND CREAM PUFFS
1

2.
NAMES ARE FUNNY SOMETIMES
16

3.
EENIE, MEENIE, MINIE, AND MO
28

4.
IT'S A SECRET
44

5.
HOW TO GET A FOOTBALL
55

6.
TWENTY-FOUR CAKES OF FLEA SOAP
70

7.
JUST-FOR-INSTANCE PRESENTS
87

8.
THE CHRISTMAS FAIRIES
100

9.
BETSY AND HER VALENTINES
114

10.
A STRANGE VALENTINE
125

Betsy, Billy, and Ellen had met in the first grade. They had become fast friends as they worked and played together. For three summers Ellen had gone with Betsy to spend the whole summer on Betsy's grandfather's farm. The third summer Billy had gone too, and the three children had played together for two long months. Now it was September and they were back in their homes, getting ready to return to school.

One morning, the week before school opened, Betsy went over to Billy's house to spend the day. Betsy's mother and Billy's mother were going to a luncheon, so the two children were going to get their own lunch. They were both thrilled, for they loved to cook.

"What are we going to cook?" asked Betsy, as soon as she arrived.

"Pancakes!" shouted Billy. "Pancakes!"

"Oh, yummy!" said Betsy. "They're practically my favorite food, 'cept cream puffs."

Billy's mother came downstairs with her hat and gloves on. "Now, Billy," she said, "don't bother Daddy unless it is absolutely necessary. He's painting a magazine cover and he has to get it finished. I've given him his lunch on a tray."

"O.K.," said Billy.

"And I expect the kitchen to be just as clean when I come back as it is now," said Mrs. Porter. "Don't get the place in a mess."

"Sure, sure," said Billy. "Everything will be dandy. We've cooked at school. We're good."

Billy and Betsy went into the kitchen. Mrs. Porter had left the pancake batter in a pitcher. The griddle was on the stove.

"I like to make 'em one at a time," said Billy. "That way you can make 'em big."

"I do too," said Betsy.

"I'll make the first one," said Billy. "You get the maple syrup out of the pantry closet."

Betsy went into the pantry. She found the bottle of maple syrup and poured it into a pitcher.

Meanwhile Billy picked up the pitcher of pan-cake batter to pour it on the griddle. He grasped the pitcher by its handle, but midway between the table and the stove the handle parted from
the pitcher and the pitcher fell to the floor, pouring the batter all over the linoleum.

"Hey, Betsy!" Billy yelled. "Come quick!"

Betsy rushed through the pantry door. And then, to Billy's amazement, she slid all the way across the kitchen and right out the back door. There she landed in a heap.

Billy ran toward Betsy, but he too slipped in the batter, which Betsy, as she slid, had spread all over the floor. Billy's slide was exactly like a baseball player sliding to second base.

Miss Mopsie-Upsie Tail, Billy's dog, hearing the racket in the kitchen, came dashing through the pantry door. Like Betsy, she headed straight for the pancake batter. She reached it in a flash. Her legs slid from under her and she skidded on her fat little stomach right out of the door, and joined the children.

Betsy and Billy were so surprised to find themselves in this jumbled mess that for a moment they were speechless. Miss Mopsie-Upsie Tail was the first one on her feet, and before Betsy or Billy had uttered a word she had begun to lick up the pancake batter.

Billy was the first to speak. "Golly! Betsy! Did you hurt yourself?"

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

And then Billy began to laugh. "Gee, but you looked funny sliding out the door."

"Well, you looked funny, too," laughed Betsy. The two children sat on the driveway and rocked with laughter.

Finally they got up. When they looked at each other, they went off into peals again. Betsy's arms and legs were covered with pancake batter. One side of her dress was thick with the white mixture.

"You certainly are a mess," said Billy.

"Well, you don't look so good yourself," laughed Betsy. "You should see the seat of your trousers. You've got about a dozen pancakes right there."

"Maybe I ought to sit on the griddle and bake them," chuckled Billy.

This sent the children off again into fits of laughing.

When they recovered, Billy said, "Well, no kidding. We've lost our lunch."

Betsy did the best she could to wipe the batter off herself with a wet rag.

"If I can find the recipe in the cookbook," said Billy, "I guess we could mix up some more batter."

Billy opened the cookbook. He thumbed through the pages. "Oh, boy!" he cried. "Look at these pictures of desserts!"

Betsy ran to the table and bent her head over the cookbook. "Oh, don't they look good!" she said.

Billy turned a page. "Oh, Betsy!" he shouted. "Lookie! Here's a recipe for cream puffs."

"Umm, yummy!" said Betsy.

"What do you say we make cream puffs?" said Billy.

"Oh, they would be too hard to make," replied Betsy.

"No, they're not," said Billy. "Look," he added, pointing to the page. "It just takes butter and water and flour, salt and eggs. Bet that isn't any
harder than pancakes. Come on, what do you say we make them?"

"I think you ought to ask your daddy first," said Betsy.

"Oh, all right," said Billy. "I'll ask him."

Billy went halfway up the stairs. Then he called out, "Daddy!"

"What is it?" Mr. Porter's voice came from the top of the house.

"Can we make cream puffs?" Billy shouted.

"Make what?" his daddy called back.

"Cream puffs," yelled Billy.

"Sure, sure," Daddy answered.

"See?" said Billy, as the two children returned to the kitchen.

Betsy opened the refrigerator. She took out the butter and the eggs. "How much butter does it say, Billy?"

"It says a quarter of a pound," replied Billy.

"Well, there's only a quarter of a pound here," said Betsy. "Maybe your mother wouldn't want us to use the butter."

"I'll ask Daddy," said Billy.

Billy ran halfway up the stairs again. "Daddy!" he shouted.

"Now what is it?" his daddy called back.

"Can we use the butter?" replied Billy.

"Use what?" called Mr. Porter.

"The butter," shouted Billy.

"Sure, sure," came the voice from the attic.

The children returned again to the kitchen. Billy put the butter and water in a saucepan and put the pan on the stove. Betsy brought a cookie tin from the closet. She greased the tin. "How many cream puffs are we going to make?" she asked.

"Oh, I guess it will be a lot," said Billy, as he measured the flour and salt into a bowl.

When the butter and water were boiling, Billy dumped the contents of the bowl into the saucepan and stirred it rapidly, just the way the recipe said to. Then he took it from the stove and added four eggs, one at a time. He beat each one in with the electric beater. When he finished, he said, "Say, Betsy, this isn't going to make very many cream puffs. It's only enough for about two. One for you and one for me."

Betsy looked into the saucepan. "Yepper," she said, "you're right. That won't make more than two."

"Well," said Billy, "guess it will be OK. We'll each have one anyway."

He divided the dough into two equal parts. One half he put at the top of the cookie tin, the other lump at the bottom. "Gee!" he said. "I thought we would surely have two apiece. I'm getting awfully hungry."

"So am I," said Betsy, as Billy put the pan in the oven.

"Well, let's have some cornflakes and milk while we're waiting for the cream puffs to get done," said Billy.

The children sat down at the kitchen table.
They each ate two bowls of cornflakes with milk. Billy, meanwhile, was reading the cookbook. Suddenly he looked up. "Hey, Betsy!" he said. "This cookbook is crazy."

"What do you mean, 'It's crazy'?" asked Betsy.

"Well, it says here, 'This recipe will make twelve good-size cream puffs or thirty-six small ones,'" Billy read.

"It's crazy," said Betsy. "It only makes two."

When the children finished their cornflakes, Billy said, "I guess we better look at them. It's been fifteen minutes."

He opened the oven door and the two children stooped down and looked inside. To their astonishment, there in the oven sat two golden pumpkins. They were the cream puffs, all blown up and six times as big as an ordinary cream puff and eighteen times as big as a small cream puff.