Read Online Anna on the Farm by Mary Downing Hahn, Diane de Groat - Free Book Online

not Billy, is it?" she asks Theodore.
    Theodore looks offended. "Billy's no beauty," he says, "but he's a swell goat. You'll hurt his feelings talking like that."
    "He's got the sweetest disposition of any goat in Beltsville," Homer adds.
    "Why, he'll let you ride on his back just like a pony," Henry puts in.
    Anna remembers how grand the world looked from the back of Nell's horse. But Billy isn't as handsome or as noble as Silver Heels, and she most definitely does not want to ride him. She doesn't even want to pet him. In fact, she wishes she'd stayed on the porch with her book.
    Theodore grins. "Go on in there and let him sniff your hand," he says. "Pet him on the head. Once he gets to know you, he's just as nice as nice can be."
    Henry is laughing too hard to say anything. Anna is sure the boys are up to something, but she doesn't want to look bad in front of Theodore. She goes a little closer to the goat's pen. Once Father took her to see the elephants at the circus. She wrinkles her nose. Even Billy doesn't smell as bad as they did.
    "Just climb over the fence," Theodore says.
    "Why can't I go through the gate?"
    "It's busted," Homer says.
    Anna climbs over the sagging fence, taking care not to scratch herself on the barbed wire. The goat watches her, but he doesn't move. He stays where he is, chewing something.
    The closer Anna gets, the worse Billy looks and the worse he smells. More than ever she wishes she'd had the sense to stay on the porch.
    "Go on," Theodore calls. "Or are you just an old scaredy-cat girl from Baltimore?"
    Anna turns and glares at him. She's trying to think of a good insult, but her thoughts are interrupted by a loud bleat from Billy. She turns and sees him running toward her, his head lowered.
    Nervously, Anna stretches out her hand to pet him. "Nice Billy," she croons, "nice Billy."
    But Billy crashes into her and knocks her in the mud. Anna scrambles to her feet. The boys are howling with laughter. Billy retreats and then lowers his head to charge again. Anna runs. Billy runs after her. She screams. The boys laugh louder.
    Round and round the pen Anna goes, with Billy close behind. Theodore has tricked her. Billy isn't his pet. He isn't nice, he isn't sweet, and he isn't tame. In fact, Billy's a lot like Theodore.
    "Open the gate!" Anna yells at the boys as she runs past.
    But they just stand there laughing.
    Billy catches up with Anna and butts her again. Down she goes, flat on her face in the mud. Billy retreats the way he did before. He stares at Anna. Anna sits up and stares at him. As long as she doesn't move, the goat doesn't move. Keeping her eyes on Billy, Anna scoots slowly backward toward the fence.
    After a while, Billy loses interest. Turning away, he starts nibbling at a patch of weeds.
    Anna reaches the fence and crawls under. Theodore, Homer, and Henry are still laughing. Anna doesn't even look at them. She walks toward the house, head high despite her muddy overalls and dirty face.
    Theodore runs after her and grabs her arm. "Are you going to tell Aunt Aggie?"
    "You lied to me," Anna shouts.
    "It was just a joke," Theodore says. "Please don't tell. You heard what Aunt Aggie said. I'll get a terrible bad whipping from Uncle George."
    "I hope you do!" Anna scowls at Theodore. "It will serve you right!"
    "Oh, Anna," Theodore begs, "don't be mad. Billy didn't hurt you."
    "Come to the barn and watch us swing on the rope," Homer says.
    Anna hesitates. Part of her would truly love to see Theodore get another whipping. Before he tricked her, she'd thought they were becoming friends. Now what is she to believe?
    But swinging on a rope sounds like great fun. If she tattles on him, Theodore will probably never play with her again.
    Theodore tugs at her hand. "Don't you want to see the swing?"
    Anna scowls, but she lets Theodore lead her toward the barn. She's been there before in other summers. The sun shines in long rays through the small windows high overhead. The shafts of light dance