Junie B. Jones Is Not a Crook

BOOK: Junie B. Jones Is Not a Crook
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1
/
No Good Reason

My name is Junie B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don’t like Beatrice. I just like B and that’s all.

Here is a story for you.

It is called “Once Upon a Time My Grandfather Named Frank Miller Went to the Store and He Bought Me Some Mittens.”

Once upon a time my grandfather named Frank Miller went to the store and he bought me some mittens. They are made out of black furry fur
.

And guess what? It was not even my
birthday! Or Christmas! Or Valentine’s Day! Plus the mittens were not even on sale!

Grampa Miller just bought them for no good reason! And that is the bestest reason I ever heard of!

That’s how come I love that guy very much
.

Plus also he can skip
.

The end
.

I like that story a real lot.

’Cause guess why?

I didn’t even make it up, that’s why!

That adventure actually happened to me! My grampa Miller really
did
buy me mittens for no good reason!

And they are gorgeous, I tell you!

When I first opened them, I got filled with glee.

Glee is when you run. And jump. And
skip. And laugh. And clap. And dance on top of the dining room table.

Then your mother takes you down from the table. And she carries you to your room for a
time-out
.

Time-outs
kill the glee.

I wore my new mittens the whole entire morning. Plus also I wore them to afternoon kindergarten.

I wore them with my attractive winter jacket. Only it wasn’t actually cold out. Only who even cares? ’Cause that outfit looked very beautiful together.

I showed my mittens to my bestest friend named Grace. Also, I showed them to a variety of strangers.

After I got to school, I held my hands over my head. And I runned all over the playground.

“LOOK, EVERYBODY! LOOK AT MY NEW MITTENS! MY GRAMPA FRANK MILLER BOUGHT THEM FOR NO GOOD REASON!”

I waved them all around in the air.

“HOW MANY CHILDREN SEE THESE LOVELY THINGS? RAISE YOUR HANDS,” I hollered.

Nobody raised their hands.

“HOW MANY CHILDREN THINK THESE MITTENS ARE GORGEOUS? PLEASE COME FORWARD!” I yelled.

Nobody came forward.

I put my hands back down and walked to that Grace.

“I couldn’t create any interest,” I said very glum.

Only guess what? Just then, I spotted my other bestest friend named Lucille!

I ran my fastest to greet her.

“LUCILLE! LUCILLE! LOOK AT MY GORGEOUS NEW MITTENS! SEE THEM? THEY ARE MADE OUT OF BLACK FURRY FUR!”

Lucille petted them.

“My family has
lots
of fur,” she said.
“My mother has a fur cape. And my aunt has a fur jacket. And my uncle has a fur hat. Plus my nanna just bought a brand-new mink coat. Only she can’t wear it outside the house. Or else people will throw paint on her.”

My mouth came all the way open.

“Why, Lucille? Why will people throw paint on your nanna?” I asked.

Lucille crossed her arms.

“Don’t you know
anything
, Junie B. Jones? It’s because people who love furry animals don’t like them being made into coats for nannas.”

Just then, I felt relief in me. ’Cause I’m not even a nanna, that’s why. And besides, my mittens aren’t even made out of
real
furry animals. They are made out of
fake
furry animals. And those kind don’t even count.

All of a sudden, the bell rang for school.

I zoomed to my room like a speeding rocket.

’Cause guess why?

More people to show my mittens to!

That’s why!

2
/
Fur Hands

I showed my mittens to my teacher.

Her name is Mrs.

She has another name, too. But I just like Mrs. and that’s all.

“Feel them, Mrs.,” I said. “Feel how soft they are.”

I rubbed them on her face.

“Oooh, they
are
soft, Junie B.,” she said. “Be sure and put them in your jacket pockets so they won’t get lost, okay?”

I skipped very happy to my seat.

“Yeah, only I’m not even going to lose them,” I said to just myself. “I am going to wear them right on my hands. The whole livelong day. ’Cause I love these guys, that’s why.”

I took off my attractive winter jacket. And sat down at my table.

Then I tapped on Lucille with my furry mittens.

“Hello. How are you today? I have fur hands. See them, Lucille? See my hands of fur?”

I flew them in the air.

“This is what fur hands look like when they’re flying in the air,” I said.

I waved hello.

“This is what fur hands look like when they’re waving hello,” I said.

Lucille did a frown.

“You’re being annoying,” she said.

That’s how come I turned around. And I smiled at a boy named William.

“I have fur hands, William. See them? See my fur hands?”

I tapped on his head.

“This is what fur hands look like when they’re tapping you on your head,” I said.

Just then, I got up from my chair. And I skipped to my boyfriend named Ricardo.

I tickled him under the chin with my softy hands of fur.

“This is what fur hands look like when they’re tickling you under your chin,” I said.

Then I grinned and grinned. ’Cause that boy brings out the best in me. That’s why.

Pretty soon, Mrs. saw me out of my seat.

She held my hand and marched me back to my table.

“This is how fur hands look when they’re marching to my table,” I said.

Mrs. plopped me in my chair.

Then she pulled off my fur hands. And she put them on her desk.

I did a sad sigh.

“That is how fur hands look when they’re no longer in my possession,” I whispered to just myself.

After that, I put my head on my desk.

And covered up with my arms.

And I didn’t come out for a real long time.

3
/
Being Brownie

Mrs. said I could have my mittens back at recess.

I stared and stared at the clock. Then I tapped my fingers on my table. And I did loud breaths.

Lucille tattletaled on me.

“Junie B. keeps tapping her fingers and making loud breaths! And I can’t even concentrate on my work!” she grouched.

Mrs. came to my table.

“Hello. How are you today?” I said kind
of nervous. “I am fine. Except I don’t actually have my mittens.”

She tapped her foot real fast.

That was not a good sign, I think.

Only guess what? Just then, the bell rang for recess!

“OH BOY!” I yelled. “OH BOY! OH BOY! ’CAUSE NOW I CAN HAVE MY MITTENS BACK! RIGHT, MRS.? RIGHT? RIGHT?”

I zoomed to her desk and put them on my hands.

Then I rubbed those softy things all over my cheeks.

“It’s good to be with you again,” I whispered into their fur.

After that, I put on my attractive winter jacket. And I skipped outside with my friends.

Me and tattletale Lucille and that Grace play horses together at recess.

I am Brownie. Lucille is Blackie. And that Grace is Yellowie.

“I’M YELLOWIE!” shouted that Grace.

“I’M BLACKIE!” shouted Lucille.

“I’M BROWNIE!” I shouted.

Only just then, I looked at my mittens.

I did a frown.

’Cause there was a little bit of a problem here, I think.

“Yeah, only how can I even be Brownie? ’Cause my horse paws are black. And so I am two different colors, apparently.”

Lucille and that Grace did frowns, too.

“Hmm,” said that Grace.

“Hmm,” said Lucille.

“Hmm,” I said.

Just then, that Grace clapped her hands
together very excited. “
I
know, Junie B.! Today you and Lucille can
trade!
Today
Lucille
can be Brownie! And
you
can be Blackie! And so that way your horse paws will be the right color!”

Me and Lucille looked and looked at that girl. ’Cause what kind of crazy idea was that?

I did a huffy breath.

“Yeah, only how can I even be
Blackie
when I am already
Brownie
, Grace?” I said. “I have been Brownie for my whole entire career. You can’t just go
changing
, you know.”

“Yeah, Grace. You can’t just go
changing,”
said Lucille.

That Grace looked embarrassed at herself. “Oh yeah… What was I thinking?” she said very mumbling.

After that, all of us sat down in the grass. And we tapped on our chins.

We thinked and thinked and thinked.

Then—all of a sudden—my whole face lighted up.

“Hey! I thought of it! I thought of it! I know ’zactly what to do!” I shouted.

BOOK: Junie B. Jones Is Not a Crook
2.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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