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NEW YORK TORONTO LONDON AUCKLAND SYDNEY

MEXICO CITY NEW DELHI HONG KONG BUENOS AIRES

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Acknowledgments

Contents

"The Escape" by J.B. Stamper from THE ESCAPE. Copyright

1999 by Scholastic Inc. All rights reserved.
"The Mystery in the Backyard" by Tom Conklin from
COMPREHENSION CLIFFHANGERS by Tom Conklin.
Copyright 2001 by Tom Conklin. Published by Scholastic
Inc. All rights reserved.

The Escape .................... 4

By ]. B. Stamper

"Worst Friends" by Agnes Gardner. Copyright 2004 by

Tara McCarthy. All rights reserved.

The Mystery in the Backyard .... 16

By Tom Conklin

The Lamb With the

Golden Fleece ................ 30
A retelling of a Hungarian folk tale

Worst Friends ................. 3 7

By Agnes Gardner

ISBN 0-439-65979-5
Copyright 2004 by Scholastic Inc. All rights reserved .
Published by Scholastic Inc. Materials in unit may be used for
classroom use by purchaser. All other permission must be
obtained from publisher.

.m

The Twins ........... . ........ 46

A poem by Henry S. Leigh

The Escape
BY}.

B. STAMPER

oris looked down the long, dark hallway of

the prison. It looked endless.

He was being taken to a place that few people had

seen. But everyone feared it. Solitary. The other
prisoners said the word with a shudder.
Behind him, the guard laughed. "Well, this will
teach you a lesson," he said. "Once you've been in
solitary, there will be no more bad behavior from you."

THE ESCAPE

f,

'"
1

11

Ill

'"

"

Boris forced his feet to move down the hall. He

knew there was no hope for him.
Seven years ago, he had committed a crime. It was
a crime so terrible that even he could not believe
that he had done it.
Now he was in prison for the rest of his life. He
was trapped like an animal in a cage. He could not
face it any longer!
That's why he had tried to escape.
It had been just after sunset. He was all alone in
the courtyard. The guard who was supposed to be
there had made a mistake. He had left Boris alone.
Boris had run for the wall like an animal. He had
climbed up and was almost over. Then he had heard
the words, "Freeze, prisoner!"
And he had frozen.
That was just yesterday. Now he was headed to an
even worse cage.
"You don't have to put me in solitary," Boris said
to the guard in a scared voice. "I'll never try that
again. I promise!"
The guard just laughed. "You'll learn your lesson,"
he said again. "Maybe they'll let you out after a few
months. But you're a tough one. I know what you did
to get inside. You don't deserve anybody's pity."

THE EscAPE

Boris felt hopeless. It was no good trying. He

would just have to deal with it, somehow.
They were coming to the end of the hallway. Boris
saw the door at the end. He saw the bars across the
small window in the door.
He knew that this was it. The others had told him
what it would be like inside.
They were right. The guard unlocked three locks.

1[

THE ESCAPE

'

II

Then he swung open the door. He pushed Boris

inside.
The room was like a pen. It was long and narrow
with one bed. High up there was a small window
with bars across it.
The walls were of old, rough stone. To Boris, it
felt as if they were closing in on him.
His breath started to come in short gasps. His
heart pounded. Boris turned to the guard.
"No," he begged. "I can't take it here. Let me go
back to where I was. I'll never do anything wrong
again."
"You should have thought of that earlier," the
guard said. Then he slammed the heavy door in
Boris's face.
Boris reached for the door. He grabbed the bars in
his hands and tried to shake them.
"You'll be sorry!" he yelled after the guard.
The guard just looked back and laughed.
Boris sat down on the bed. He shut his eyes. He
didn't want to look around the cell. He was afraid
that he would lose his mind .
Thunder woke Boris from a terrible nightmare. In
the meantime, rats were running at him, screeching.
He opened his eyes. He was afraid the rats were

THE ESCAPE

really there. He hated rats more than anything. It

was his biggest worry ... that there might be rats in
solitary.
Boris looked around the cell. It was almost dark.
Then a flash of lightning lit up the cell. The light
fell on the wall at the head of his bed.
In those few seconds of light, Boris saw something
that made his heart leap. One of the stones in the
wall looked different. There was a thin crack in the
cement around it.
Boris tried to fight off a new feeling of hope. But
he couldn't help himself.
Maybe another prisoner had dug around the rock.
No one could see the crack unless they were lying on
the bed. He had only seen it because of the
lightning.
His hands were shaking. He reached down and
grabbed the large_stone. He moved it back and forth.
Then, suddenly, it came loose! Boris pulled, and
the rock fell forward into his hands.
As Boris stared into the hole left by the rock, a
flash of lightning lit it up. A tunnel stretched before
him ... with a rat hurrying down into it.
Boris jumped back in horror when he saw the rat.

THE EscAPE

He thought about putting the large stone back in

place.
Then another flash of lightning cut through the
darkness of the cell. The tunnel lit up in front of
him. It seemed to welcome him to freedom.
Boris measured the size of the tunnel with his
eyes. It was narrow at the beginning. But then it
became wider. It looked wide enough for him to
crawl though.
Another flash of lightning lit up the tunnel. He
searched for any sign of the rat.
"Maybe I didn't see it at all," Boris whispered to
himself. "Maybe it was just a shadow of my
nightmare."
Boris peered into the tunnel. He saw no sign of
the rat. But his eyes fell on something else. There
was a scrap piece of paper lying on the tunnel floor,
near the entrance.
He reached in and pulled it out. He felt its dry
surface. The paper was wrinkled with age.
He waited impatiently for the lightning to light
up the cell again. When it did, he quickly read the
message on the paper.
"To the next prisoner who find this paper," Boris
read. "I escaped the horror of this cell by this
illl!

THE EscAPE

passage. May you share my good luck."

The light faded away before Boris could finish
reading the message. He sat in the darkness, shaking
with fear and hope.
The message seemed to be written in a dark red
liquid. He guessed that it was the blood of the person
who had written it.
At last, the lightning came again. He read on,
"This is the only way out!" The message was signed
with two initials, "N.G."
Just then, Boris heard the guard's footsteps
outside his cell. He threw himself over the stone and
hole. He pressed his body against the wall.
He waited as the footsteps came to a stop outside
his cell. He thought he would scream from the
horrible tension.
Then the footsteps moved away. They slowly
drifted down the hallway. Finally, the noise faded
into the night.
_
Suddenly, Boris knew he could not wait any
longer. He stuck his head into the tunnel and pushed
the rest of his body through.
He tried to look back, but the tunnel was too
narrow. There was no turning back now.
Boris squirmed deeper and deeper into the tunnel.

THE ESCAPE

THE ESCAPE

Crawling on his stomach, he felt like a snake

slithering into its hole. He felt the tunnel grow
damper and colder.
Just as the tunnel began to grow slimy, it opened
up and became wider.
Boris stood up on his trembling legs. He tried to see
into the darkness ahead. He put his hands out in front
of him and walked slowly through the black tunnel.
The rocky walls were sharp and tore at his hands.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead with one hand
and felt warm blood oozing from it.
Boris felt sick. His legs became weak with fear. He
dropped to his knees and fell forward onto his hands.
Then he felt tiny, clawed feet run over his fingers.
Boris heard his own scream echo and echo
through the tunnel.
Once again, the tiny claws of a rat dug into his
hands. Boris jumped to his feet, hitting his head on
the low ceiling of the tunnel.
Then he felt them all around him. The rats were
running over his feet. They were crawling at his legs.
Boris opened his mouth to scream. But he knew
he had to be quiet. He dug a fist into his mouth. He
made himself move forward into the tunnel.
All he could hope was the rats would not climb up

THE EscAPE

THE E SCAPE

his leg. If they did, he knew he would lose his mind.

Suddenly, the tunnel sloped down at a sharp angle.
Boris's feet slipped forward. He landed on his back.
He slid deeper and deeper into the tunnel. He no
longer felt the rats around him. He no longer heard
their claws scratching the rock.
Boris came to a stop where the floor of the tunnel
suddenly became flat. His breath was coming in short
gasps that tore at his lungs.
He picked himself up. He reached for the slimy
walls of the tunnel that he had just fallen down.
Then the truth hit him like a blow. He could
never go back. The walls of the tunnel behind him
were too steep and slippery.
He had only one chance. He had to push on. He
had to push on ... and hope that there was an end to
the tunnel.
Boris moved himself forward. He clawed at the
walls with his hands, trying to hurry.
The tunnel was beginning to feel more and more
narrow. His breath was coming in shorter and
shorter gasps.
Then the tunnel made a sharp turn to the left.
Suddenly Boris saw something that made him cry out
in relief. Through an opening in the distance, he

could see the pale rays of the moon.

He was almost there. He could smell the night air.
Boris struggled toward the patch of moonlight ahead

of him.
The tunnel was turning upward. Boris had to grab
both sides of the wall and dig his feet into the cracks
in the wall. Slowly, he pulled himself up. Boris felt
the blood from his cuts run down into his sleeves.
But the pain didn't matter. All that mattered was
the patch of light ahead. Boris felt the night air
against his face. He was close now. Close to freedom.
Then a sound behind him terrified him. It was the
sound of those clawed feet. They were following him.
Boris scrambled up to the top of the tunnel even
faster. The moonlight was so bright now that he could
see his hands in front of him. He felt a rat brush
against his leg. But he had only a few yards to go.
With his last bit of strength, Boris lunged toward
the light. He felt his head crash into something hard
and cold. For a moment he was stunned.
Then he opened his eyes. In front of him, the moon
shone through the bars of a heavy gate. Still pressed up
against it were the cold, white bones ... of a skeleton.
There was no escape. There was no going back.
This was it. Just Boris ... and the rats.

The Mystery in
the Backyard
BY TOM CONKLIN

" y o u kids keep out of my yard!"

Tony and Juan looked up. Old man
Kaufman stood on his back porch, shaking
his fist at the two boys. Juan forced a friendly smile.
"Sorry, Mr. Kaufman," Juan said. "We tossed our
ball over your fence by accident. I think it landed in
your garden."
"I said go!" Mr. Kaufman yelled, his face red with
anger. Kaufman grabbed a broom from the porch and
started to run after the boys. Tony and Juan sprinted
back to the fence and jumped over it to the safety of
the alley.

I
I

ll(rtl/(1

l'ftj(~

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

"What a grouch!" Juan panted, as he and Tony

stopped to catch their breath.
"Tell me about it," Tony said. "You're lucky to live
two blocks away. I have to put up with Kaufman as a
neighbor."
"So?" Juan replied. "I'm the one who lost a
baseball! What am I going to tell my dad when he
asks where it is?"
Clunk!
Something had sailed over the fence and landed
smack on Juan's head. He picked it up. It was his
baseball. Old man Kaufman had tossed it out of his yard.
"Thank you, Mr. Kaufman!" The boys chanted
sarcastically.
"And stay out!" the old man yelled from behind
the fence.
At dinner that night, Tony was whining about Mr.
Kaufman.
"Whenever I walk past his house, he's sitting on
the front stoop, staring at me, like he expects me to
rob him or something. I never did anything to him!"
"Mr. Kaufman has a hard life," Tony's mother gently
explained. "I don't know how he makes ends meet, not
since he lost his job as a newspaper reporter."

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

"Just because he doesn't have a job, that doesn't

give him the right to yell at me and my friends,"
Tony muttered.
Tony's father laid down his newspaper and stared
at his son. "No," he said. "By the same token, you
don't have the right to judge him. Not unless you
know what he's gone through." Tony's father shook
his head, then picked his newspaper back up.
"Imagine what it must be like, paying rent and
feeding yourself and your sick old mother ... without
a steady job!"
Something his father had said made Tony think.
Tony knew that Mr. Kaufman shared the house
with his elderly mother. At nights, as he lay in bed,
Tony could hear the old woman's screechy voice as
she ordered her son around.
The funny thing was, it had been weeks since
Tony had seen or heard her.
Tony decided to keep an eye out for Mr.
Kaufman-and his missing mother.
Two days later, Tony sat on his front stoop,
reading a book. Mr. Kaufman sat on his stoop, staring
at the street and not saying a word. Over the
previous days, Tony hadn't seen or heard a sign of
Kaufman's mother. Now, it was as if Kaufman were

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

waiting for someone. But who?

A delivery truck pulled up in front of Kaufman's
house. Tony buried his nose in his book, all the time
listening closely as the delivery man trotted up to
greet Mr. Kaufman.
"Sign here, please," he said, handing Kaufman a
clipboard. "Where do you want it?"
"In here," Kaufman said, shooting suspicious looks
up and down the street. He led the delivery man into
his house. Tony stole a glance at the delivery-three
large cardboard boxes.
Later that night, Tony glanced out the window
of his family's bathroom. From there, he could see
across the yard and through a window into Kaufman's
house. What he saw surprised him. Kaufman stood
alongside three empty cardboard boxes, reading a
thick owner's manual. On a desk, he had set up a
brand new computer with a big, sturdy printer.
Tony gasped"
"If he's so poor, how can he afford a new
computer?" Tony asked himself.
Early the next morning, Tony's mom pulled a full
bag out of the trash can.
"I'll take the garbage out, Mom," Tony said, rushing
up to take the bag from her. She looked at him, shocked.

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

"What's gotten into him?" she asked her husband

as Tony headed down the back stairs.
Once he was in the alley, Tony dropped the
garbage bag into a trash can. Looking around to
make sure the coast was clear, he headed to the
garbage cans and stacks of newspapers outside
Kaufman's fence.
Tony gasped. Leaning against the fence were stacks
of freshly bundled glossy brochures. Tony looked at
them. They were advertisements for fancy cruises,
resorts on tropical islands, and other costly vacations.
"If he's so poor, why is he shopping for an
expensive trip?" Tony asked himself.
The next day, Tony told Juan about his
discoveries.
"It's just like this old movie I saw," Tony said. "I'll
bet he killed the old lady!"
"I don't know," Juan said. "Why would he do
that?"
"So he could get all of her money, of course,"
Tony said. "He killed her and took her fortune. Now
he's just waiting for a chance to get away." Tony had
a sudden thought and snapped his fingers. "I'll bet
that's why he chased us away from his garden. That's
where he buried her body!"

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

Juan groaned. "I think you're nuts."

"Oh, yeah?" Tony replied. "If he didn't kill her,
then where is she? No one has seen her for weeks.
And how was he able to afford a new computer? And
why was he looking at ads for expensive trips?"
"There could be a million reasons for any of those
things," Juan said.
"Maybe," Tony admitted. "But all together, they
add up to murder."
Juan shook his head. "I don't think so," he said.
Tony decided to challenge his friend. "All right.
Join me in some detective work. We'll follow old
man Kaufman around. If we see his mother, or learn
how he's making his money, then I'll eat my words. If
not, we'll tip off the cops."
Tony held out his hand. Juan hesitated a moment,
then shook Tony's hand.
It turned out that Mr. Kaufman was pretty easy to
follow. Over the n~xt few days, he only made a few
trips to the corner store to buy some groceries. On Friday
he went to the post office to mail some bills. That
night he went to a church hall to play some bingo.
Juan and Tony followed him several steps of the
way. Although Mr. Kaufman didn't do anything
suspicious, the two boys didn't see a sign of his

@)

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

mother. She'd been missing for weeks now. Tony was

more certain than ever that she had been the victim
of foul play.
On Saturday, the boys got a break. Kaufman left
his house in the middle of the morning and shuffled
off to the public library. Tony and Juan followed.
They hung out in the kids' section, watching as
Kaufman gathered a large stack of books from the
shelves. He sat at a table, carefully going through the
books and making notes of information he found in
them. After four hours of work, Kaufman stood and
stretched, then headed out the door.
Juan moved to follow him.
"Wait!" Tony hissed. He led Juan over to the table
where Kaufman had been working. Tony looked at
the titles of the books Kaufman had been reading.
He gasped at what he saw:
True Crime
Murder and Mayhem
The Writer's Guide to Getting Away
With Murder

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

I
111

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

1,

"Now what do you say?" Tony asked, staring at

Juan with eyes wide.
Juan gulped. "I say we should find out exactly
what Kaufman has planted in his garden," Juan said.
It was dark and cloudy when the boys scrambled
over the fence into Kaufman's yard late that night.
His windows were black. The only sound was the
distant rumble of traffic on the avenue.
"This way," Tony whispered. He led Juan to the
garden.
Each boy carried a stick. As they had planned,
Juan and Tony started at opposite ends of the garden,
jabbing their sticks into the earth. After a few
minutes of poking around, Tony's stick hit something
hard about ten inches beneath the surface.
"I found something!" he hissed. Juan came to his
side as Tony began to dig.
"What is it?" Juan asked.
"Sssh." Tony pulled something long and hard from
the dirt.
The moon appeared from behind a cloud. A shaft
of pale light fell on the yard. Tony saw what he held,
then yelped with fear and dropped it.
It was a bone!

,[

THE MYSTERY IN THE BACKYARD

[I
THE MYSTERY IN THE BAC KYARD

"Who's out there?" yelled a harsh voice. It was

Kaufman!
"Run!" Tony hissed.
Too late. A beam of light from a flashlight knifed
from Kaufman's porch across the yard, landing on
Tony's blinking face.

------

. -------

Tony sat at his kitchen table. He wished he could

have been hiding under it. Juan's parents had just left
after coming to pick up their son. Now, old man
Kaufman sat at the table opposite Tony, sipping a cup
of coffee. Tony's parents stood nearby. Although they
were acting very nice, Tony knew that as soon as
Kaufman left their smiles would disappear.
"I'm sorry if I've been a bad neighbor," Kaufman
said. "Privacy is important to me. Writing isn't easy,
so I don't like to be distracted."
"We understand," Tony's mom said. "And
congratulations on selling your first book."
"Thanks," he said. "With the money I've earned, I
was able to send my poor mother on a long vacation.
Goodness knows she deserved it. And at last I was
able to afford a computer."
Tony looked at Mr. Kaufman with suspicion.

THE MYSTERY IN THE BAC KYARD

"What about the bone I found buried in your

garden?" he asked.
"Promise you won't tell the police?" Mr. Kaufman
asked. "It's against the law to bury your pets in your
yard. But when our old dog Poochie died five years
ago, it broke mother's heart. We had to keep the old
boy nearby."
Tony was still not convinced. "I saw you in the
library today," Tony said. "You were reading some
interesting stuff."
"I was doing research for my next book," Mr.
Kaufman said. "This one will be a murder mystery."
He smiled at Tony. "I think I've got an inspiration,"
Kaufman said. "It's going to star a boy detective!"
Even Tony had to smile as the three adults broke
into laughter.

The Lamb
With the

Golden Fleece
A retelling of a
Hungarian folk tale

here was once a poor man who had a son,

and as the son grew up his father sent him
out to look for work. The son traveled about
looking for a place, and at last met with a man who
arranged to take him as a shepherd. The man gave
the boy a flute, and sent him out with the sheep to
see whether he was fit for this kind of work. The boy
worked hard, very unlike many lazy fellows . He drove

I!

''

THE LAMB WITH THE GOLDEN FLEECE

THE L AMB WITH THE G OLDEN FLEECE

his sheep from place to place and played his flute all
day long. Among the flock of sheep there was a lamb .
with golden fleece. Whenever the boy played his
flute, the lamb began to dance. The boy grew very
fond of this lamb and decided to ask his boss if he
could have the lamb rather than his wages. When he
returned home that evening, his boss waited at the
gate. When he saw the sheep all there and all well~
fed, he was very pleased. He agreed to hire the boy
and began to discuss wages. The boy said he would
watch the sheep for a year if he could have the lamb
with the golden fleece. The farmer was very fond of
the lamb himself, but knowing what a good shepherd
the boy was, he agreed to give him the lamb.
The year passed quickly and the lad received the
lamb for his wages. He set off home with it. As they
journeyed, night set in just as he reached a village.
The boy went to a farmhouse to ask for a night's
lodging. Now there was a daughter in the house who
when she saw the lamb with the golden fleece
determined to steal it. About midnight she stole
into the room where the shepherd was sleeping, but
the moment she touched the lamb, her hand stuck
hard~and~fast to its fleece. When the lad got up he
found her stuck to the lamb. He could not separate

them, and as he could not leave his lamb he took

them both.
As he passed the third door from the house where
he had spent the night he took out his flute and
began to play. Then the lamb began to dance, and on
the wool the girl. Round the corner a woman was
putting bread into the oven. She looked up and saw
the lamb dancing and on its wool the girl. Seizing
the baking shovel in order to frighten the girl, she
rushed out and shouted, "Get away home with you,
don't make such a fool of yourself." As the girl
continued dancing the woman called out, "What,
won't you obey?" and tried to knock the girl off the
lamb with the shovel, which at once stuck to the
girl, and the woman to the shovel, and the lamb
carried them all off.
As they went they came to the church. Here the
boy began to play again, the lamb began to dance
and on the lamb's fleece the girl, and on the girl's
back the shovel, and at the end of the shovel, the
woman. Just then a priest was coming out of a church
and seeing what was going on began to scold them,
and told them go home and not be so foolish. As his
words were of no avail, he grabbed the woman with
his cane, when to his surprise the cane stuck to the

THE LAMB WITH THE GOWEN FLEECE

Il l

THE LAMB WITH THE GOLDEN FLEECE

woman, and he to the end of his cane.

With this nice company, the lad went on. Towards
dark, he reached the royal city and took lodgings at
the end of the town for the night with an old
woman. "What news is there?" said he. The old
woman told him they were in a very great sorrow, for
the king's daughter was very ill, and no physician
could heal her. "If she could be made to laugh," said
the woman, "she would get better at once." And she
went on to explain that the king had issued a
proclamation that very day stating that whoever
made his daughter laugh should have her for his wife
and share the royal power.
The lad with the lamb could scarcely wait till
daylight, so anxious was he to try his fortune. In the
morning he presented himself to the king and stated
his business and was very graciously received. The
daughter stood in the hall at the front of the house.
The lad then began to play the flute, the lamb to
dance, on the lamb's fleece the girl, on the girl's
back, the shovel, at the end of the shovel, the
woman, on the woman's back the cane, and at the
end of the cane, the priest. When the princess saw
this sight, she burst out laughing, which made the
lamb so glad that it shook everything off its back,

THE LAMB WITH THE GOLDEN FLEECE

and the lamb, the girl, the woman, and the priest
each danced by themselves for joy.
The shepherd married the king's daughter, the
priest was made court-chaplain, the woman court
baker, and the girl, the lady-in-waiting to the
princess.
The wedding festivities lasted more than a week,
and the whole land joined in the celebration, and if
the strings on the fiddle hadn't broken, they might
still be dancing now!

Worst Friends
BY AGNES GARDNER

here were a lot of people I was sorry to say

goodbye to during the last day of school.
Westy Howchest was not one of them. You
might say we had very different interests. You might
say we had different views of life. You might just say
we disliked each other.

WORST FRIENDS

After school on the last day, Westy was in the

gym as usual. Helping Ms. Chisholm put away the
gym mats. He could carry about eight mats at a time.
When he knew people were looking in, he would go
into this great strong-guy act, lifting the mats like he
was Mr. Ripped.
As for me, I was in the library as usual, helping
Miss Forminster to file videos. At about five o'clock,
just as I was filing Alexander Graham Bell and
Thomas Edison, Westy came in. "Er, Miss
Forminster," he mumbled. "I need a ride home,
because the last bus left."
"Why don't you walk, and exercise all those calf
muscles?" I said.
Westy got mad. "Look, Thwackman, I would
rather develop my whole body, instead of just my
fingers, like you do, turning book pages."
Miss Forminster said she would give us both a ride
home. I managed to sit in front. Miss Forminster and
I began talking about movies. We were going along
Curve Passage Road, which is a little dirt road that
shortcuts between two highways, when the car
suddenly sputtered to a stop.
"Something's wrong," Miss Forminster decided.
All of us got out and looked at the car. We did things

WORST FRIENDS

WORST FRIENDS

like look under the hood and turn the key off and on.
But none of us knew that much about cars. So Miss .
Forminster said, "You two will have to go and get
help. No one's likely to come along for a long time."
Westy and I glared at each other and then went
up the road toward the main highway. "It must be
about two miles away," I puffed.
Westy laughed. "Don't worry. Thwackman, I'll
carry you on my back when you get tired."
"Maybe we should take the shortcut across that
field," I suggested, making a face at him.
Westy said, "Okay, we could do that in order to
save my strength." So we climbed over a fence and
went marching across a field.
Suddenly, out of somewhere, came this big
dog. "Yikes!" said Westy. He jumped way up and
grabbed the lowest branch of a lone tree. He was
hanging there, swinging his feet, when the dog
came racing over.
It was a big dog and if it jumped on me, I would
be knocked down for sure. The noise it made did not
have a welcome ring.
"Hi fella," I said on a somewhat higher note than
usual. "Good boy, good dog."
To my relief and Westy's disbelief the dog stopped,

-WORST FRIENDS

WORST FRIENDS

sniffed, then wandered away.

Westy let go and dropped out of the tree, ripping
his shirt slightly. "A dog bit me once," he said. "I
don't think they like me."
"Well, some dogs aren't so friendly," I admitted.
"You never know."
We walked along, not saying anything. The light
began to fade. Lucky Miss Forminster, sitting by her
car! I was thinking about that, when I tripped and
fell flat on my face.
I waited a second, expecting to hear Westy's laugh.
But he only said, "Your foot's in a tomato can." I
looked, and he was right. We worked a little while
trying to get the can off my shoe. But it was no use.
"We can just go a little slower," said Westy, "because
it will be hard to walk with a can on your foot."
"That's true," I said. Westy helped me over the
rough spots in the field. He found me a long stick to
use as a cane on my tomato-can side.
Finally in the distance we began to hear the hum
of highway traffic. There was also a very delicious
smell. "Hey, that's strawberries!" said Westy. "Here
we are hungry, and we're walking right through a
strawberry patch!" He began to eat strawberries
like mad.

WORST FRIENDS

WORST FRIENDS

Then we knew there was a shadow near us. The

shadow was BIG. "What are you boys doing here?"
said the shadow. "I'm gonna run you in for
trespassing!" He pointed at Westy. Westy's chin was
all red from strawberry juice, and his eyes were
popping out of his head.
"Look," I said to the man. "This is my brother,
and, er, he's been lost for five days in the woods, and
I just found him. Naturally, he is slightly hungry. He
just saw the strawberries and couldn't help himself."
The man said, "He sure looks in good shape for a
guy without food for five days!"
"He's always kept in good shape," I said. "He even
exercised while he was lost."
The man began to laugh. "What a story!" he said,
turning away. "Oh, well, go your way. He couldn't
have eaten that many berries."
"It's a lucky thing you made that guy laugh," said
Westy. He and I were almost to the highway now. We
could see a big sign peeking up over the trees. It said
Paul's Power Pumps. A gas station! Help for Miss
Forminster!
When we got to Paul's Power Pumps, we met
Miss Forminster, sitting in her car. "Oh, boys, there
you are!" she said. "Someone did stop and help me.

I looked for you as I drove here. I was just thinking

that you would probably take a shortcut across
the field."
She looked at my foot. "Why are you wearing a
tomato can?" she asked. She looked at Westy. "What
is that red stuff on your chin? How did your shirt get
torn? Are you both all right? What happened to you
anyway?"
Westy and I looked at each other. "Nothing," we
giggled. "We just got to know each other a little,
that's all."

The Twins
BY HENRY

S. LEIGH

In form and feature, face and limb,

I grew so like my brother,
That folks got taking me for him,
And each for one another.
It puzzled all our kith and kin,
It reached an awful pitch;
For one of us was born a twin,
Yet not a soul knew which.
One day (to make the matter worse),
Before our names were fixed,
As we were being washed by nurse
We got completely mixed;
And thus, you see, by Fate's decree,
(Or rather nurse's whim),
My brother John got christened me,
And I got christened him.

This fatal likeness even dogged

My footsteps when at school,
And I was always getting flogged,
For John turned out a fool.
I put this question hopelessly
To everyone I knewWhat would you do, if you were me,
To prove that you were you?
Our close resemblance turned the tide
Of my domestic life;
For somehow my intended bride
Became my brother's wife.
In short, year after year, the same
Absurd mistakes went on;
And when I died-the neighbors came
And buried brother John!

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