Read Online Mitch and Amy by Beverly Cleary - Free Book Online

hit him in the middle of the back. He ignored it—at least that is the way he hoped he looked to Alan. A eucalyptus bud, which was as big as a marble, was a hard thing to ignore.

    More buds came pelting after Mitchell, some hitting him, some flying past him. One struck him right on the back of the neck and that really stung, but Mitchell kept on going. As much as he longed to stop and peg just one bud back at Alan good and hard, he would not let himself. If he ignored Alan long enough, Alan might get tired of bullying and if he did not, well…. Mitchell would have to think about that problem when the time came.
    Mitchell was pretty angry by the time he reached the intersection nearest the school, where he had to wait for the traffic boy to lead him across the street or get reported. Alancaught up and stood directly behind him.
    â€œChased you, didn’t I?” gloated Alan.
    Mitchell gritted his teeth and said nothing. He thought about the spinning globe in the library and imagined what would happen if the world was turning so fast everyone had to make his way to school hand over hand, hanging on to bushes. Then when old Alan tried to throw a eucalyptus bud, he would forget to hold on and go whizzing off into space.
    On the way across the street Alan managed to step on Mitchell’s heels several times. Grimly Mitchell ignored him. By the time Mitchell got into a kickball game he was so angry and kicked the ball so hard that he made a home run before the fielder had a chance to catch up with the ball. That home run made Mitchell feel a lot better.
    Mitchell began to wish he did not have to walk to school, but unfortunately during thesummer the mothers of the neighborhood had banded together at a coffee party and vowed that they would no longer drive their children to school unless they had broken legs or heavy musical instruments to carry.
    Except for one day a week, when his mother drove the cello and French horn to school, Mitchell walked. He tried different routes to school. Sometimes he succeeded in avoiding Alan, but more often he did not. Eucalyptus buds came flying even when there were no eucalyptus trees nearby, and Mitchell concluded that Alan must keep his pockets stuffed with ammunition. Ignoring Alan became more and more difficult. Sometimes Mitchell felt worn out with ignoring Alan when Alan should have been so tired of being ignored that he would stop bullying.
    One evening at dinner Mrs. Huff served a new dish that she had learned to cook bywatching the French Chef on television. She said it was stuffed eggplant.
    â€œIt looks like a boxing glove cut in half and filled with chopped-up stuff,” remarked Mitchell. Speaking of a boxing glove reminded him of Alan Hibbler. “Say, Dad, how about letting me take judo lessons?” he asked.
    â€œI think you’re a little young for that,” answered his father.
    â€œSo you could flip your sister through the air every time you got into an argument?” said Mrs. Huff. “I should say not. Anyway, I do enough chauffeuring as it is. Music lessons, trips to the orthodontist, trips to the shoe store—”
    â€œOh, never mind,” said Mitchell. “It was just one of those out-of-the-question questions.”
    One hot Friday morning in October, when a dry wind had been rattling theleaves of the eucalyptus trees for days and the temporary classrooms had seemed like ovens in the afternoon, Mitchell consulted the mimeographed school-lunch menu that Mrs. Huff had taped to the inside of a cupboard door. The menu was one thing he had no trouble reading. When he saw what he was to have for lunch, he groaned and said, “Deep Sea Dandies for lunch.”
    Mrs. Huff laughed. “What on earth are Deep Sea Dandies?”
    â€œAn old fish stick in a bun,” answered Mitchell. “The cafetorium just tries to make it sound good.”
    â€œYou mean the ickatorium,” corrected Amy.
    â€œSo long, Mom,” said