Henry and the Clubhouse Read Online Free Page A

spends too much time in front of it.”
    “Ask me my name,” Ramona ordered Henry.
    Henry could feel no enthusiasm at all for this new game of Ramona’s. “What’s your name?” he asked in a bored voice rather than risk Ramona’s having a tantrum because he would not play.
    Ramona held the paper tube in front of her mouth. “My name is Danny Fitzsimmons,” she answered, looking down at the sidewalk and smiling in a self-conscious way that was not at all like Ramona.
    “It is not,” contradicted Henry. “You aren’t even a boy.”

    “She’s just pretending she’s being interviewed on the Sheriff Bud program,” explained Beezus. “That’s her microphone she’s holding.”
    “Oh,” was all Henry could find to say.
    “My name is Danny Fitzsimmons,” repeated Ramona, smiling shyly in an un-Ramona-like way, “and I want to say hello to my mommy and my daddy and my sister Vicki, who is having a birthday, and Mrs. Richards, who is my kindergarten teacher, and Lisa Kelly, who is my best friend, and Gloria Lofton, whose cat just had kittens and she might give me one, and her dog Skipper and all the boys and girls in my kindergarten class and all the boys and girls at Glenwood Primary School and Georgie Bacon’s sister Angela, but I won’t say hello to Georgie, because I don’t like him, and . . .”
    “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Henry was disgusted with Ramona’s new game. “Why don’t you just say hello to the whole world and be done with it?” He had no time for this sort of thing. He was on his way to sell a Journal subscription and get back to the clubhouse. “So long, Beezus,” he said.
    “. . . and Bobby Brogden who has a loose tooth . . .” Ramona was saying as Henry went on down the street.
    When Henry came to the house that was his destination, he turned to Ribsy and said, “Sit,” not because he expected Ribsy to sit, but because he wanted to put off ringing that doorbell a little longer. He had not decided what to use as a selling point, because he could not even guess what might interest a new neighbor.  Ribsy sat a moment and then got up and sniffed at the shrubbery.
    “I said ‘Sit,’” Henry told his dog, deciding that it would be a good idea if Ribsy really did sit. Some people were very particular about dogs running through their flowers and he was anxious to make a good impression.
    Like the good dog he was, part of the time, Ribsy sat once more, but he did not stay seated. He stood up and wagged his tail.
    “Sit!” ordered Henry sternly, as he started up the steps.
    Ribsy appeared to think it over.
    “Sit!” Henry raised his voice.
    Ribsy waved his tail as if to say, Do I really have to?
    A strange dog, a Dalmatian, came trotting around the house and began to investigate Ribsy. The dogs sidled around each other, sniffing. Henry did not pay much attention.  Dogs who were strangers to each other always did this.
    Next a woman who was wearing an apron, and had a smudge of dust on her cheek, appeared on the driveway at the side of the house. She was older than Henry’s mother. Probably she was old enough to be a grandmother. Before Henry had a chance to speak, the Dalmatian left Ribsy and frol-icked over to his owner. Ribsy, an agreeable dog who was ready to play, followed.
    That was Ribsy’s mistake. Now he was trespassing on the Dalmatian’s territory.The Dalmatian began to growl deep in his throat and to hold his whiplike tail stiff and straight.
    Ribsy stopped short. This was his neighborhood. He was here first. It was the Dalmatian who was trespassing. Each dog began to resent the other’s looks, sound, and smell.
    “Ribsy!” Henry spoke sharply.
    “Ranger!” The woman spoke sharply, too.
    The dogs paid no attention to their owners. Each was too intent on letting the other know exactly what he thought of him. The growls grew louder and deeper and they raised their lips and bared their teeth as if they were sneering at each other.
    And just who do you