Henry Huggins

by Beverly Cleary

  The next time the bus stopped Henry saw Scooter McCarthy, a fifth grader at school, get on and make his way through the crowd to the back of the bus.

  Just my luck, thought Henry. I’ll bet he wants to know what’s in my bag.

  “Hi,” said Scooter.

  “Hi,” said Henry.

  “Whatcha got in that bag?” asked Scooter.

  “None of your beeswax,” answered Henry.

  Scooter looked at Henry. Henry looked at Scooter. Crackle, crackle, crackle went the bag. Henry tried to hold it more tightly between his knees.

  “There’s something alive in that bag!” Scooter said accusingly.

  “Shut up, Scooter!” whispered Henry.

  “Aw, shut up yourself!” said Scooter. “You’ve got something alive in that bag!”

  By this time the passengers at the back of the bus were staring at Henry and his package. Crackle, crackle, crackle. Henry tried to pat Ribsy again through the paper. The bag crackled even louder. Then it began to wiggle.

  “Come on, tell us what’s in the bag,” coaxed the fat man.

  “N-n-n-nothing,” stammered Henry. “Just something I found.”

  “Maybe it’s a rabbit,” suggested one passenger. “I think it’s kicking.”

  “No, it’s too big for a rabbit,” said another.

  “I’ll bet it’s a baby,” said Scooter. “I’ll bet you kidnapped a baby!”

  “I did not!”

  Ribs began to whimper and then to howl. Crackle, crackle, crackle. Thump, thump, thump. Ribsy scratched his way out of the bag.

  “Well, I’ll be doggoned!” exclaimed the fat man and began to laugh. “I’ll be doggoned!”

  “It’s just a skinny old dog,” said Scooter.

  “He is not! He’s a good dog.”

  Henry tried to keep Ribsy between his knees. The bus lurched around a corner and started to go uphill. Henry was thrown against the fat man. The frightened dog wiggled away from him, squirmed between the passengers, and started for the front of the bus.

  “Here, Ribsy, old boy! Come back here,” called Henry and started after him.

  “E-e-ek! A dog!” squealed the lady with the bag of apples. “Go away, doggie, go away!”

  Ribsy was scared. He tried to run and crashed into the lady’s bag of apples. The bag tipped over and the apples began to roll toward the back of the bus, which was grinding up a steep hill. The apples rolled around the feet of the people who were standing. Passengers began to slip and slide. They dropped their packages and grabbed one another.

  Crash! A high-school girl dropped an armload of books.

  Rattle! Bang! Crash! A lady dropped a big paper bag. The bag broke open and pots and pans rolled out.

  Thud! A man dropped a coil of garden hose. The hose unrolled and the passengers found it wound around their legs.

  People were sitting on the floor. They were sitting on books and apples. They were even sitting on other people’s laps. Some of them had their hats over their faces and their feet in the air.

  Skree-e-etch! The driver threw on the brakes and turned around in his seat just as Henry made his way through the apples and books and pans and hose to catch Ribsy.

  The driver pushed his cap back on his head. “OK, sonny,” he said to Henry. “Now you know why dogs aren’t allowed on buses!”

  “Yes, sir,” said Henry in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry! A lot of good that does. Look at this bus! Look at those people!”

  “I didn’t mean to make any trouble,” said Henry. “My mother said I could keep the dog if I could bring him home on the bus.”

  The fat man began to snicker. Then he chuckled. Then he laughed and then he roared. He laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks and all the other passengers were laughing, too, even the man with the hose and the lady with the apples.

  The driver didn’t laugh. “Take that dog and get off the bus!” he ordered. Ribsy whimpered and tucked his tail between his legs.

  The fat man stopped laughing. “See here, driver,” he said, “you can’t put that boy and his dog off in the rain.”

  “Well, he can’t stay on the bus,” snapped the driver.

  Henry didn’t know what he was going to do. He guessed he’d have to walk the rest of the way home. He wasn’t sure he knew the way in the dark.

  Just then a siren screamed. It grew louder and louder until it stopped right alongside the bus.

  A policeman appeared in the entrance. “Is there a boy called Henry Huggins on this bus?” he asked.

  “Oh boy, you’re going to be arrested for having a dog on the bus!” gloated Scooter. “I’ll bet you have to go to jail!”

  “I’m him,” said Henry in a very small voice.

  “I am he,” corrected the lady with the apples, who had been a schoolteacher and couldn’t help correcting boys.

  “You’d better come along with us,” said the policeman.

  “Boy, you’re sure going to get it!” said Scooter.

  “Surely going to get it,” corrected the apple lady.

  Henry and Ribsy followed the policeman off the bus and into the squad car, where Henry and the dog sat in the backseat.

  “Are you going to arrest me?” Henry asked timidly.

  “Well, I don’t know. Do you think you ought to be arrested?”

  “No, sir,” said Henry politely. He thought the policeman was joking, but he wasn’t sure. It was hard to tell about grown-ups sometimes. “I didn’t mean to do anything. I just had to get Ribsy home. My mother said I could keep him if I could bring him home on the bus.”

  “What do you think?” the officer asked his partner, who was driving the squad car.

  “We-e-ell, I think we might let him off this time,” answered the driver. “His mother must be pretty worried about him if she called the police, and I don’t think she’d want him to go to jail.”

  “Yes, he’s late for his dinner already. Let’s see how fast we can get him home.”

  The driver pushed a button and the siren began to shriek. Ribsy raised his head and howled. The tires sucked at the wet pavement and the windshield wipers splip-splopped. Henry began to enjoy himself. Wouldn’t this be something to tell the kids at school! Automobiles pulled over to the curb as the police car went faster and faster. Even the bus Henry had been on had to pull over and stop. Henry waved to the passengers. They waved back. Up the hill the police car sped and around the corner until they came to Klickitat Street and then to Henry’s block and then pulled up in front of his house.

  Henry’s mother and father were standing on the porch waiting for him. The neighbors were looking out of their windows.

  “Well!” said his father after the policeman had gone. “It’s about time you came home. So this is Ribsy! I’ve heard about you, fellow, and there’s a big bone and a can of Feeley’s Flea Flakes waiting for you.”

  “Henry, what will you do next?” sighed his mother.

  “Golly, Mom, I didn’t do anything. I just brought my dog home on the bus like you said.”

  Ribsy sat down and began to scratch.

  2

  Gallons of Guppies

  Every afternoon after school Ribsy waited for Henry under a fir tree in the corner of the school yard. Four days a week they ran home the shortest way, past the park, up the hill, and through the vacant lot.

  On Fridays, however, they walked home the long way round past the Rose City Drugstore, the Supermarket, the Ideal Barber Shop, and the Lucky Dog Pet Shop. At the pet store they stopped while Henry bought two pounds of horse meat from Mr. Pennycuff.

  Henry liked to go to the pet store. The windows were full of puppies and kittens and, just before Easter, rabbits and baby chicks and ducks. Inside there was usually a parrot or monkey and once there had been a deodorized skunk. Henry thought it would be fun to have a skunk following him around, but when he found it cost forty dollars he gave up the idea.

  But best of all Henry liked the fish. One side of the
store was covered with rows of little tanks. Each aquarium contained green plants that grew under water, snails, and a different kind of tropical fish. Henry always stopped to look into each tank. He liked the dollar-sized black-and-silver-striped angelfish and the inch-long orange moonfish with their velvety fins and tails. He thought the tiny catfish were fun to watch, because they stayed on the bottom of the tanks, rolled their eyes, and used their whiskerlike barbels to feel around in the sand for food. Mr. Pennycuff explained that the fish came from all over the world, but most of them came from jungle rivers where the water was warm. That was why they were called tropical fish.

  One Friday when Henry went to the pet store he saw a sign that read:

  * * *

  SPECIAL OFFER

  1 pair of guppies

  fishbowl

  1 snail

  aquatic plant

  package of fish food

  ALL FOR 79¢

  * * *

  “Jeepers!” said Henry. “All that for seventy-nine cents!” He looked at the fish in the bowls. Each bowl held one plain silvery-gray fish almost two inches long and one smaller fish with all the colors of the rainbow. “That really is a bargain!”

  “It certainly is,” agreed Mr. Pennycuff. “Shall I wrap up a pair for you?”

  Henry felt around in his pocket. The silver dollar his grandfather had given him was still there. He watched the little rainbow fish chase the silvery fish and decided he had to have a pair of guppies. After all, it was his very own money he was spending. He would keep them on the dresser in his room. They would just stay in his room and swim quietly around in their bowl. He didn’t see how his mother could object to two quiet little fish that didn’t bark or track in mud or anything.

  “I’ll take a pair,” Henry told Mr. Pennycuff, and watched him fasten waxed paper around the top of the bowl with a rubber band and put it into a bag.

  “Now be sure to put the bowl near a heater in cold weather so the fish won’t get chilled and catch ick.”

  “Ick?” said Henry.

  “Yes, ick. It’s short for ichthyophthirius. When the fish get chilled, they catch ick and are covered with tiny white spots.”

  “Gosh,” said Henry. Maybe there was more to keeping guppies than he thought.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” said Mr. Pennycuff. “They can stand water down to sixty degrees. If it were that cold in the house, you’d have the heat on.”

  That sounded easy. “How often do I change the water?” asked Henry.

  “You shouldn’t have to change the water. The snails help keep it clean. Just give the fish a tiny pinch of food once a day. It’s only when the fish don’t eat all their food or when you have too many fish in a bowl that the water gets dirty.” Mr. Pennycuff gave Henry his change.

  “I didn’t know that,” said Henry. “I’m glad you told me. Here, Ribsy.” He handed Ribsy his package of horse meat. The dog took it in his mouth and they left the pet store. “You’ll have to carry your meat all the way home today. And don’t you stop and try to eat it before we get home, either. It has to last you a few days.”

  Ribs wagged his tail and trotted on ahead of Henry with his meat. Henry tried to walk without jiggling the package. He didn’t want to slosh the guppies any more than he had to. When Ribsy was half a block ahead of Henry, he dropped his package and looked back at Henry. Then he began to tear the paper off the meat.

  “Hey! Cut that out!” yelled Henry. He started to run but the water in his fishbowl sloshed and he had to stop.

  Just to be safe Ribsy picked up his meat, trotted farther down the sidewalk, and finished tearing off the paper.

  “Stop that! You—you—you old dog!” Again Henry tried to run. This time he held the bowl straight out in front of him, but the water still sloshed.

  Ribs gobbled part of the meat and then trotted ahead with the rest of it in his mouth. Just as Henry was almost close enough to reach for the meat, Ribsy put on a burst of speed.

  “Ribsy! You come here!” The dog ignored Henry. “I’ll get you for this!” Henry was really angry now. He set his package of guppies on the sidewalk and ran after his dog. This time Henry caught up with him.

  Henry grabbed one end of the meat and pulled. Ribsy, growling deep in his throat, hung onto the other end and pulled. The dog had a better grip on the meat because he could sink his teeth into it. Henry found that raw meat was cold and slippery.

  “You let go that meat!”

  Ribsy growled more fiercely. He sounded as if he meant it. The harder Henry pulled, the louder Ribsy growled.

  Henry was sure Ribsy wouldn’t really bite him, but just the same he knew it was not a good idea to annoy any animal when it was eating. Anyway, he couldn’t stand there all afternoon playing tug-of-war with a piece of horse meat. His guppies might get cold.

  “All right, you old dog! Go ahead and eat it and see if I care. You’ll just have to eat canned dog food the rest of the week.” He went back to his guppies while Ribsy wolfed the rest of the meat, licked his chops, and then, with his stomach bulging, followed slowly at Henry’s heels the rest of the way home.

  When they reached Henry’s house on Klickitat Street, Henry opened the door and yelled, “Hey, Mom! Come and see what I bought with the silver dollar Grandpa gave me.”

  “I’m afraid to look,” answered his mother from the kitchen. “What is it this time?”

  “Fish.”

  “Fish?” Mrs. Huggins sounded surprised. “Did you want me to cook it for dinner?”

  Henry carried his package into the kitchen. “No, Mom, you don’t understand. Not dead fish. Live fish swimming around in a bowl of water. They’re called guppies.”

  “Guppies?”

  “Yes. Just two little fish. I’ll keep them on my dresser and they won’t be any trouble at all. They were on sale at the pet shop. They were a bargain. See, Mom?” Henry gently lifted the fishbowl out of the bag.

  Mrs. Huggins put down the potato she was peeling. “Why, Henry, what pretty little fish!”

  “I thought you’d like them.” Henry was pleased.

  His mother bent closer to the fishbowl. “But, Henry, what are those little dark things in the water?”

  “What little dark things?” Henry looked closer.

  “Why, they’re baby fish,” Mrs. Huggins exclaimed. “There must be fifteen or twenty.”

  “Baby guppies!” Henry was delighted. “Look, Mom, did you ever see such teeny-weeny little fish? Golly, they’re so little just about all you can see are their eyes and their tails.”

  Mrs. Huggins sighed. “Henry, I’m afraid they won’t be teeny-weeny little fish very long. They’ll grow and then what are you going to do with them?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll ask Dad.” Henry was worried. “Maybe he knows about baby guppies.”

  But when Mr. Huggins came home from work, Henry was disappointed to learn that he knew nothing about little guppies. “Why don’t you get a book about guppies from the library?” he suggested.

  Mrs. Huggins said there would be time before dinner, so Henry found his library card and he and Ribsy ran all the way to the library.

  “Hello, Henry,” said the lady in the boys and girls’ room at the library. “Have you come for another book about gienats and orges?”

  This was a joke between the librarian and Henry. When Henry had first started reading fairy tales by himself he returned a book and asked for another about gienats and orges. He felt a little silly about it now, although he secretly thought gienats and orges sounded better than giants and ogres.

  “No, I want a book about guppies,” Henry answered. “I have some baby guppies and I don’t know how to take care of them.”

  The librarian found a book on hobbies with a chapter on fish, but it did not tell much about guppies. “Just a minute, Henry,” she said. “Maybe there is something in the adult room.” She returned with a thick book about tropical fish. It was full of colored pictures. “I’m sure this will help you,” she said, “but I’
m afraid it’s too hard for you to read. I’ll let you take it out on your card if you think your mother and father will help you with it.”

  “Sure, my dad will help me.”

  The librarian stamped the book on his card and Henry, proud to have a grown-up book stamped on his library card, ran home with it.

  After dinner Mr. Huggins sat down to read the fish book while Henry went to his room to watch his guppies. This time he counted thirty-eight babies. After a while his father came in with the book in his hand. “This is a mighty interesting book, Henry, but you’re going to need some more fishbowls. According to this book you can’t keep so many fish in one bowl.”

  “But, Dad, where will I get more bowls?”

  “Maybe we can find something in the basement.”

  So Henry and his father rummaged through the basement until they found a gallon jar Mrs. Huggins used for making dill pickles.

  “This should do,” said Mr. Huggins. They carried it upstairs and washed it. Mr. Huggins filled it with hot water and carried it into Henry’s room. “Now when the water cools we can move some of the little guppies. They can’t live in cold water right out of the faucet. They need water that has stood or hot water that has cooled. While it’s cooling, we can make a net.” He found a piece of wire and bent it into a circle. Mrs. Huggins took an old stocking and sewed it to the wire to make a little fish net.

  Henry and his father took turns catching the tiny fish with the net and moving them into the pickle jar. Henry was surprised that such small fish could swim so fast.

  The next day and every day after that Henry looked at his guppies the first thing in the morning. When he came home from school he looked at his guppies before he went into the kitchen for something to eat. His fish grew and grew. As the weeks passed the big guppies had more little guppies. The little guppies grew up to be big guppies and had little guppies of their own. Henry had hundreds of guppies. He couldn’t find any more pickle jars so he started using his mother’s quart fruit jars. He couldn’t keep many fish in a quart of water.