Read Online Justin and the Best Biscuits in the World by Mildred Pitts Walter - Free Book Online Page B

Suddenly Justin had an idea. He would grab that bull and wrestle it to the ground and draw cheers from the crowd the way the other cowboys had done.
    Justin moved forward. Oh, no , he thought. This bull has no horns! A dogie needs horns . As he looked the bull in the eye it turned and ran away, waving its tail.
    A red ribbon fluttered. In the nick of time, Justin snatched it. A winner!
    When the judge awarded the prizes, he placed a cowboy hat on Justin’s head. The crowd roared. Justin waved the red ribbon and though he knew he could not be heard over the cheers, he shouted anyway. “I’m a real cowboy now, Grandpa!”

12
JUSTIN’S TRIUMPH
    T HE END OF the festival marked the end of the visit. The day for Justin to go home had arrived. Good times go fast , he thought as he packed his things, feeling both happy and sad. Happy because he had enjoyed himself and was going home; sad because he had to leave Grandpa.
    He had so much to tell his family and his friend Anthony. He could hardly wait to tell Anthony about Don and the pies. Then he thought of Evelyn. How surprised she’ll be when she sees the ribbons and the hat.Wait’ll she sees that I can make a bed smooth as glass and wash dishes sparkly clean , he thought, and smiled. Then he remembered the burning rice. If only I could show her I can cook, too .
    Suddenly Justin had an idea. Hurriedly he finished packing and went to Grandpa’s room. Grandpa was just getting dressed.
    â€œI guess you’re anxious to leave me,” Grandpa said. “You’re up so early.”
    â€œOh, no. I don’t want to leave you.” He hugged Grandpa around the waist.
    â€œWe had fun, eh?”
    â€œBest time I ever had. Grandpa, can you show me how to make your biscuits?”
    â€œThink you can learn how to make the best biscuits in the world?”
    â€œI want to try.”
    â€œAll right. The first thing we’ll do is wash our hands carefully.”
    After they had washed their hands, Grandpa said, “Now we’ll need to make some dishwater.”
    â€œWhy dishwater, Grandpa?” Justin asked.
    â€œA good cook always cleans as he goes along. Then the place is not a mess when everything is cooked.”
    Grandpa showed Justin how he made biscuit mix with flour, powdered milk, baking powder, and salt. So that’s why he only added shortening and water when he made his biscuits , Justin thought.
    Grandpa let Justin measure the shortening and the right amount of water. “Remember now,” Grandpa said, “the secret of good biscuits is in your touch. Handle the dough with tender loving care.”
    The bigger part of the morning went by with them in the kitchen. Justin learned to measure, mix, and bake biscuits. He learned how to cook stewed raisins and smoked pork, too.
    Now, feeling he knew how to cook, Justin raced out to the meadow to say good-bye to the horses and to share with them some leftover biscuits. He stood for a moment looking at the blackish-green rolling hills in the distance. No fog floated like clouds today. The sky, crystal clear, was as blue as the lake.
    He gave Cropper a biscuit first; he petted Palaver, gave him a biscuit, walked away, and whistled. Black came on the run. Justin pulled his head down. Hugging Black’s head, Justin rubbed Black’s velvety nose with his own. He let Black nibble the gift slowly. “Goodbye, boy. Be good, now. See you soon.” Slowly he walked back to the house, wishing he didn’t have to leave.
    By the time all the chores were done, animals fed and watered, the afternoon had moved toward early evening.
    Finally the Iron Pony, packed with eggs, ham, Justin’s biscuit mix, raisins, and pork, was ready to go. The bag of goodies had written on it: For Justin’s hands and eyes only. Do not look, do not touch .
    On the road, Justin’s excitement doubled. He could hardly wait to see them all back home. Even though Grandpa stopped only