"Outside," said Ellen.
"Then we will have to get some chicken wire," said Kenny, "so that it won't get lost."
"Yes," said Miss Ross. "Can anyone think of anything else that we will need?"
The children sat thinking for a moment. Then Christopher's face lit up. "I know," he said; "some straw for the nest."
"Yes," said Miss Ross, "straw for the nest."
"How soon will she begin to lay eggs?" asked Sally.
"Oh, not for quite some time," said Miss Ross. "Probably not for several months."
"Oh, Miss Ross," said Betsy, "maybe our class could sell the eggs and make some money for the school fund."
"Maybe so," said Miss Ross.
"Peep, peep, peep," said Daisy.
"But some day Daisy will have little chickens and they will lay a lot of eggs," said Ellen.
"We have some empty cardboard boxes for eggs at home," said Mary Lou. "I can bring them to put the eggs in."
"Now before you begin to prepare for the eggs,"
said Miss Ross, "let's get Daisy's house built."
"Her house and her yard," said Billy.
"Peep, peep, peep," went the chick.
"She will have to have a bigger box right away," said Miss Ross. "I'm afraid she isn't very happy in this small one."
"Maybe we can get one from Mr. Windrim," said Kenny.
"You and Billy can go see," said Miss Ross.
Kenny and Billy started off to find Mr. Windrim. Soon they returned with a wooden box about two feet long and a foot wide. It wasn't very deep but the sides of the box were a little higher than the chick.
"Oh, that is very nice," said Miss Ross.
Billy put the chick in the box and sprinkled some gravel over the bottom.
"What are we going to feed Daisy?" asked Peter. "She ought to have some food."
"Peepy peep, peep," said Daisy.
"Oh, I forgot," cried Billy. "I brought some cornmeal to school."
Billy went to the cloakroom and brought out a little bag of cornmeal. He put some in a dish and moistened it with water. Then he put the dish in the box. He also put a dish of water in. The box was placed in a corner of the room.
Daisy seemed happier now. She didn't peep quite so often and the children went on with the day's work.
The next morning the children in the third grade came to school loaded down.
Kenny came in with a large wooden box. "Look what I brought to make a house for Daisy," said Kenny. "Isn't it a dandy?"
In a few moments Peter came in with a great big box. "Won't this make a fine house for Daisy?" he said.
Right behind him was Teddy. He, too, had a big box. "This is for a house for Daisy," he said.
"Goodness!" said Miss Ross, as two more boys came in with boxes. "Daisy will have a whole apartment house to live in if we use all of those boxes."
When the twins arrived they had their express wagon with them. In the express wagon was a big roll of chicken wire. "Here's the chicken wire," they said. "Our daddy had it in the cellar."
When Betsy arrived she was carrying a big paper bag filled with straw. "This is for Daisy's nest," she said.
Mary Lou came in with a pile of empty egg boxes. They were piled up so high she could hardly see over them.
"Gracious me!" cried Miss Ross. "Daisy will be kept very busy if she has to fill all of those boxes."
Then Christopher appeared, dragging a sack of cracked corn. "I got it from the feed store," said Christopher. "I told the man who keeps the store that we were going to raise chickens at our school and he gave me all this. It was so heavy I grew tired of carrying it."
By nine o'clock the whole front of the room was filled with things for Daisy. No baby chick ever had more things than Daisy. About the only thing the children hadn't brought were the worms and bugs.
Everyone was so much interested in all of the things that had been brought for Daisy that no one thought to look for her until after the bell rang. Then Billy went to her box to give her some fresh water. What did he find but an empty box! There was no little chick.
"Daisy's gone!" cried Billy. "She isn't here."
"Not there!" said Miss Ross.
All of the children crowded around the box. Daisy was certainly not there.
"Well, she must be in the room somewhere," said Miss Ross.
The children began to search the room. They looked in the corners and under Miss Ross's desk, but there was no little chick. They looked in the cloakroom and even in the wastepaper basket. The chick could not be found.
They searched everywhere. Finally Miss Ross said they would have to get on with their day's work.
"She will turn up by and by," said Miss Ross. "She can't be very far away."
The children tried hard to keep their minds on spelling and reading and numbers, but they kept thinking about Daisy.
"Daisy peeped all day yesterday," said Billy, "and now she won't peep at all. It's just as though she hid on purpose."
In the middle of the morning some petals dropped from some flowers on Miss Ross's desk. Betsy went to the back of the room and got the dustpan and brush. The dustpan was one that was partly covered by a little tin roof. Betsy put the pan down on the floor. Just as she was about to sweep up the petals out walked the little round ball of a chick.
"Here's Daisy!" cried Betsy.
The children laughed when they saw Daisy. They were so glad to find her. Betsy picked her up and put her back in the box.
The boys covered the box with wire screening so that Daisy wouldn't get lost again.
The best wooden box was selected for Daisy's house. Then the children spent several weeks building her house and yard. They put it out of doors, near the school garden. The spot was shaded by some trees and the earth seemed rich.
"There ought to be plenty of worms and bugs in that earth," said Billy.
By the time the new quarters were finished Daisy had grown big enough to be kept out of doors.
Each week a different group of children took care of feeding her. The group was known as "The Daisy Committee."
Daisy was growing into a very beautiful chicken. She was pure white. The children could hardly wait for her to lay her first egg. The pile of empty boxes on the table in the classroom grew higher and higher.
Every day the children looked in the nest to see if Daisy had laid an egg. But the nest was always empty.
One day Peter came to school with a china egg. "It's for Daisy," he said. "I got thinking that maybe Daisy doesn't know that she's supposed to lay eggs. Maybe if we show her this, it will put her in mind of it."
The china egg was laid in Daisy's nest. Daisy paid no attention to it.
One day Betsy and Billy looked in the nest. There lay the china egg all alone.
"If she doesn't begin to lay eggs soon," said Billy, "school will be over."
Suddenly Daisy stretched her neck. She seemed to swell up and her feathers stood out. The children stared at her. Billy grabbed hold of Betsy. "She's going to lay one now," he gasped.
"It will break," said Betsy. "She's supposed to be on her nest."
Like a flash Billy picked up the chicken and carried her to her nest. Billy patted the nest with his hand. "You lay 'em there," he said to Daisy.
Daisy didn't look one bit interested. Billy tried to push her down on the nest but she struggled and got free. In a moment she was back in her yard.
Again she stretched her neck and swelled her body. Suddenly she let out a noise that sounded like "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
Betsy's eyes popped. She looked at Billy. "I never heard a hen make a noise like that," she said.
"They make noises when they lay eggs," said Billy. "Maybe she's just practicing."
Once again Daisy stretched her neck. This time it was loud and long. "Cock-a-doodle-doo! Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
"Billy," said Betsy, "Daisy's just been fooling us all the time. She's not a hen at all. She's a rooster. And she's not a she; she's a he. And roosters don't lay
eggs."
Betsy and Billy ran back to their classroom. They were so excited they could hardly speak. "Daisy's a rooster!" gasped Billy.
"She's crowing," said Betsy. "I mean, he's crowing."
The children could hear Daisy crowing now. He seemed to be crowing his head off.
"Listen to her," said Billy. "I mean, listen to him."
The children were so provoked at Daisy for turning out to be a rooster that they hardly went near him for days. They felt that he had purposely cheated them out of all of the money they had expected to make from the eggs.
Finally Peter said, "I think we should change Daisy's name. Who ever heard of a boy named Daisy?"
"Guess we better name him Big Ben," said Richard. "He certainly goes off like an alarm clock."
So the rooster was named Big Ben.
When it came time for school to close, the children had grown very fond of Big Ben. They had forgiven him for being a rooster.
Miss Ross said that something would have to be done about him for the summer. "He can't stay here," she said, "and I can't keep him in my apartment. Billy, I guess I will have to give him back to you."
The last day of school Billy carried the rooster home. He needed a much larger box than the day he brought him to school.
At home he made a little pen for him but he was always getting out. He dug up the flower beds and made a great deal of noise.
The neighbors complained because he crowed early in the morning and woke them up.
Finally Billy's daddy said that Billy would have to get rid of Big Ben.
"What can I do with him?" asked Billy, in a troubled voice.
"Well, all that he is good for is stewing," said Billy's daddy.
"Oh, Daddy! We can't stew Big Ben," cried Billy.
"Something will have to be done about him," said Daddy. "So you had better think hard and fast."
Billy talked it all over with Betsy. Then Betsy had an idea. "I know what!" she cried. "You can send him up to Granddaddy on the farm. He has hundreds of chickens and he would be glad to have Big Ben."
Billy thought this was a good idea. He set to work at once making a crate for Big Ben. When it was finished, he put the rooster in and nailed slats across so that he couldn't get out. His daddy painted the name and address on the crate. Then Betsy and Billy and his daddy took it to the station. There they put it on the train.
There were tears in Billy's and Betsy's eyes when they saw the rooster go.
The next week, Betsy received a letter from Granddaddy. This is what the letter said:
"Dear Betsy,
Big Ben arrived safely and I have written to Billy to thank him for sending me such a fine rooster. I told Billy that Big Ben seems a little homesick, so I think Billy had better come up with you and Ellen and spend the summer on the farm.
Love and kisses from
Granddaddy."
Turn the page to see what awaits Betsy in
Betsy and the Boys
when Ellen, Billy, and Betsy
take on the fourth grade.
1. Pancakes and Cream Puffs
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.
&nbs
p; "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."
Back to School with Betsy Page 6
