Ellen Tebbits by Beverly Cleary Read Free Book Online Page A

Allen.
    “From these horses?” said the man. “No, lady. These horses worked at a riding academy for years.”
    “You’re sure they’re gentle?”
    “Yes, ma’am. Gentle as kittens.”
    “The girls could hang on to the saddle horns,” suggested Mr. Allen.
    “Oh, Daddy, you aren’t supposed to hang on to the saddle horn. Only tenderfoots, I mean tenderfeet, do that. We’ll be safe, because Ellen has ridden a lot and I know all about riding from books.”
    Ellen wished Austine would keep still.
    She was not at all sure she wanted to ride, especially without a grownup along.
    “I suppose it would be safe to let the girls ride for half an hour,” said Mrs. Allen. “We could walk along the dirt road and look at the rhododendrons while they rode. That way they would be within shouting distance.”
    “All right, girls, which horses do you want to ride?” asked Mr. Allen, taking a handful of change out of his pocket.
    Ellen thought she had better act brave even if she didn’t feel that way.“The spotted horse is nice, but I think I’d rather have the brown one over in the corner of the pen.” She thought the brown horse looked gentle.
    “I’ll take the pinto on this side of the corral,” said Austine, glancing at Ellen.
    Oh dear, thought Ellen. I’ve said the wrong thing. I wish I’d read some horse books.
    Austine watched eagerly and Ellen watched uneasily while the man saddled and bridled the two horses.“Okay, kids,” he said.
    Ellen walked over to the brown horse and patted him gingerly. He seemed awfully big when she stood beside him. But he looked down at her with large gentle eyes, and Ellen felt braver.
    The man held out his hand, palm up.
    Oh, I wonder if he wants me to give him some money, thought Ellen. It must be that, but I’m sure Austine’s father paid him. Or maybe he wants to shake hands. A sort of farewell.
    “Come on, girlie. Step up,” said the man.
    “Don’t be scared. Brownie isn’t going to hurt you.”

    My goodness, thought Ellen. I guess he expects me to step in his hand. I suppose it’s all right. His hand is dirty anyway.
    She put her foot into his hand and he boosted her onto the horse. The ground seemed a long way below her. And Ellen had forgotten how wide a horse was. The man shortened her stirrups and then helped Austine onto the pinto. Ellen patted Brownie on the neck. She was anxious to have him like her. If only she had a lump of sugar in her pocket.
    “Look,” cried Austine. “I’m really on a horse.”
    Ellen knew she was expected to take the lead.“Giddap,” she said uncertainly. Brownie did not move.
    The man gave each horse a light slap on the rump.They walked out of the corral and ambled down the dirt road as if they were used to going that way.Austine’s mother and father followed on foot.
    Ellen carefully held one rein in each hand. As she looked at the ground so far below, she hoped Brownie wouldn’t decide to run.
    “I’m going to call my horse Old Paint like in the song,” said Austine, who never missed the Montana Wranglers on the radio and knew all about cowboy songs. “I wish I’d worn my cowboy neckerchief.”
    “Yes,” said Ellen briefly. She didn’t feel like making conversation.
    When Austine’s horse moved in front, Ellen took hold of the saddle horn. It wasn’t so much that she was scared, she told herself.
    She just didn’t want to take unnecessary chances.
    “I wish we’d worn our pedal pushers,” said Austine. “It’s sort of hard to feel like a cowgirl in a dress.”
    “I wish we had, too.”
    Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. The horses seemed to know the way, and Ellen found the rocking motion and the squeak of the saddle rather pleasant.
    She was even able to look around at the trees and enjoy the woodsy smell.
    Then when they had gone around a bend in the road, Brownie decided it was time to go back to the corral. He turned around and started walking in the direction from which they had