Betsy and the Boys (3 page)

bright and early. When she told Billy the news about the new teacher, Billy didn't believe it.

"You're just making that up," he said.

"No, I am not," said Betsy. "It's her real name."

"But I can't call her Miss Pancake," chortled Billy. "I'll laugh and laugh."

"That's what I told Mother," said Betsy. "But Mother says that would be rude and that we will have to practice saying it until we can say it without laughing."

The opening day of school was only five days off, so Betsy and Billy had to learn quickly to say Miss Pancake and keep their faces straight.

Every morning when Betsy came downstairs to breakfast, her mother would say, "Good morning, Betsy," and Betsy would reply, "Good morning, Miss Pancake."

The first two mornings she did very badly, for she laughed right in the middle of it.

Over at Billy's house, Mrs. Porter was doing the same thing and Billy was trying to say, "Good morning, Miss Pancake," without exploding. But by the day school opened the children had reached the place where they could say it with only a smile.

They wondered what Miss Pancake would look like. Betsy didn't think she would be pretty. Billy thought she would be tall and thin.

When the children went into their classroom, there, at the front of the room, stood a roly-poly little person with short red curly hair and eyes that looked like black buttons. Betsy noticed that they were very shiny and that they looked very happy.

When all of the children were seated, the teacher said in a voice that chuckled, "Now, boys and girls, I am going to tell you something that is going to make you laugh. I am going to tell you my name, and it is a very funny name. It's Miss Pancake."

The children laughed and laughed and Miss Pancake laughed too. And when she laughed, she seemed to bounce up and down.

Betsy knew, right then and there, that she was going to love Miss Pancake.

It was a happy day and when the children said "Miss Pancake" and laughed, Miss Pancake laughed too.

When school was over, Billy waited by his new teacher's desk until all of the children had gone. Then he said, "Miss Pancake, I've got a
funny name too. They call me Puff. Puff Porter."

"That
is
a funny name," said Miss Pancake, with her eyes twinkling. "Why do they call you Puff?"

"Well," replied Billy, "it's a secret, but I'll tell you. It's really Cream Puff."

And Miss Pancake and Billy both threw back their heads and laughed long and loud.

At the close of the first day of school, Betsy thought of her old friend, Mr. Kilpatrick. He was the policeman who took the children across the wide avenue not very far from the school.

Father had driven Betsy to school in the morning, so Betsy hadn't seen Mr. Kilpatrick. Now she skipped along, thinking how nice it would
be to see him. When she turned the next corner, she would be able to see his bright red car parked at the curb.

Sure enough, when Betsy turned the corner, there, away down the street, was Mr. Kilpatrick's car. As she got nearer, she could hear the sharp sound of his whistle. When she reached the corner, Mr. Kilpatrick was in the middle of the street directing the traffic. The moment he saw her his face broke into a big smile. As he came toward her he said, "Well, if it isn't Little Red Ribbons! Sure, it's good to see the little girl again."

"Hello, Mr. Kilpatrick!" said Betsy. "How are you?"

"I couldn't be better," replied Mr. Kilpatrick. "And how do you find yourself?"

"Just fine," said Betsy. "What do you think, Mr. Kilpatrick? My new teacher's name is Miss Pancake."

"Sure, I've been hearing about her," said Mr. Kilpatrick. "It's a good hearty name, isn't it? Goes right to your stomach."

Betsy laughed as Mr. Kilpatrick walked across the street with her. "How is Mrs. Kilpatrick?" asked Betsy.

"She's feeling quite smart," said the policeman. "She'll be asking after you when I get home. She's never forgotten you getting lost when you were back in the first grade."

"That was funny, wasn't it?" said Betsy.

"We have a new cat," said Mr. Kilpatrick. "We call her the Queen of Sheba. And what do you think she carried into the kitchen the other night?"

"I don't know," said Betsy. "What?"

Mr. Kilpatrick leaned over. "A kitten," he said. "Had it in her mouth. Then we found that she had three others. We've put them in a box in the laundry."

"Oh, Mr. Kilpatrick!" cried Betsy. "I would love to see them."

"Well, let's see," said Mr. Kilpatrick, looking at his watch. "My time is about up here. Suppose I drive you around to my house to see them. Then I can run you home."

"That would be lovely," said Betsy.

Mr. Kilpatrick helped Betsy into his red police car. He climbed into the driver's seat and they started off.

"Well," said Mr. Kilpatrick, "how is your friend Billy these days? I didn't see him this morning."

"No, Father drove us both to school this morning. Billy's all right. We had a lovely summer vacation. But do you know what, Mr. Kilpatrick?"

"What?" asked Mr. Kilpatrick.

"I don't think Billy is going to play with me very much now," said Betsy.

"Sure and why not?" asked Mr. Kilpatrick.

"Well, all he wants to do is play football with the Wilson boys," said Betsy.

"What's stopping you from playing with them?" asked Mr. Kilpatrick.

"Oh, they won't let me play," said Betsy. "Rudy says girls can't play football."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Kilpatrick. "You'd be as good as the rest of them."

"Well, they won't let me," sighed Betsy.

"Who owns the football?" asked Mr. Kilpatrick.

"Oh, the football!" laughed Betsy. "You should see it. It belongs to Rudy, but it's so old the air won't stay in it."

Mr. Kilpatrick snorted. "Looks to me as though they wouldn't play much football until they get a ball," he said.

"They talk a lot about getting a ball," said Betsy.

"Sure, talk's cheap," said Mr. Kilpatrick.

They drove another block in silence. Then Mr. Kilpatrick said, "I suppose if anyone were to bring out a football, they'd be glad to play with that one. Even if it was one with pigtails and red ribbons."

"Maybe," said Betsy.

And now the car stopped in front of Mr. Kilpatrick's house. Betsy jumped out and Mr. Kilpatrick opened the front gate for her. She walked up the path with its border of bright flowers. Mr. Kilpatrick opened the front door and called, "Hello, Katie!"

Betsy heard Mrs. Kilpatrick's voice from upstairs. "I'm up here, Pat."

"Well, come down," shouted Mr. Kilpatrick. "I've brought an old friend home with me."

Betsy heard Mrs. Kilpatrick's heavy tread above, for the policeman's wife was a large lady. "Now who have you brought with you?" she said.

Mrs. Kilpatrick was at the head of the stairs now. She peered down. "Land sakes!" she cried. "If it isn't the little girl that was lost back in the first grade. There was I, sweeping the pavement and she comes up to me, looking for all the world like a stray puppy." All of this Mrs. Kilpatrick said as she came lumbering down the stairs.
"Well, it's good to see you again," she said. "Did Pat bring you to see the kittens?"

"Yes," replied Betsy. "And the Queen of Sheba, too."

"Well, come right out to the laundry," said Mrs. Kilpatrick.

Betsy followed Mrs. Kilpatrick to the back of the house. In the doorway between the kitchen and the laundry sat the biggest and most beautiful cat Betsy had ever seen. It was the Queen of Sheba. She was coal black and her yellow eyes were like big amber beads.

"She doesn't like you to touch her babies," said Mrs. Kilpatrick. "Come on here, Queen of Sheba. You go outside for a while."

Mrs. Kilpatrick opened the back door. The Queen of Sheba sat like a statue, looking at her.

"Come on here; don't put on any of your haughty airs with me," said Mrs. Kilpatrick. "Out with i" you!

The Queen of Sheba didn't even blink.

"Do you see that?" said Mrs. Kilpatrick. "Majestic, I calls it. Majestic."

Mrs. Kilpatrick reached for her broom. "Now, Your Majesty, will you git? Or shall I help you?"

The Queen of Sheba got. She got, majestically, out of the back door.

"Now come look at the kittens," said Mrs. Kilpatrick, leading Betsy toward the box in the corner.

"Oh!" cried Betsy. But Mrs. Kilpatrick interrupted. "Sakes alive!" she cried. "There's one of them missing! Now what did that cat do with that kitten?"

Betsy went down on her knees beside the box. She looked down at the three furry little balls. "Aren't they sweet!" she said.

"Sure, but where's the fourth one?" said Mrs. Kilpatrick, looking all around the laundry. "You know, the Queen's got a grudge against that kitten. That's the second time she's carried it off.
Last time I found it in the coal bucket beside the fireplace."

Mrs. Kilpatrick tramped into the front room. Betsy followed her to the coal bucket.

"Well, she's not put it in the coal bucket this time," said Mrs. Kilpatrick.

Betsy started to look under the furniture while Mrs. Kilpatrick picked up the sofa cushions.

"What color is it?" asked Betsy.

"It's a yellow one," said Mrs. Kilpatrick. "The only one in the litter that wasn't like the mother. I declare, it's just as though the Queen didn't like the kitten because it's different from her and the rest of them."

"Sort of an ugly duckling?" said Betsy.

"That's it!" replied Mrs. Kilpatrick. "But you remember the ugly duckling turned out to be the beauty of the lot, and it's my opinion that this kitten will be the beauty, too. Now where do you suppose that cat hid that kitten?"

Mrs. Kilpatrick's sewing basket was on a low stool. Betsy looked into the basket. It was filled with Mr. Kilpatrick's socks and shirts that needed mending. But curled up in the center of the basket was a round golden ball of soft fur. "Here it is!" cried Betsy.

Mrs. Kilpatrick leaned over the basket. "Well, sure as faith! You've found it," she cried. Picking it up, she placed it in Betsy's arms.

Betsy carried the kitten back to the laundry. "What have you named them?" she asked.