Ralph S. Mouse by Beverly Cleary Read Free Book Online

reek of sweaty socks, and the scented-soap fragrance of Miss K.
    By the time the teacher said, “On your mark,” Ralph was completely muddled. He crouched, waiting for the starting gun, which did not go off.
    â€œMy caps are stuck,” said Brad.
    After the heat of the fishbowl, the cooler air made Ralph’s muscles feel rigid. He felt as if he had been waiting forever.
    At last Brad fired his cap gun. Bang!
    â€œGo, Ralph, go!” shouted the class.
    The noise was enough to unnerve the bravest mouse. However, since Ralph was pointed toward the opening of the maze, he knew where to start. He ran through the opening and bumped his nose against a cardboard wall. Then he turned the other way.
    â€œNo!” shrieked the children. “Not that way! The other way!”
    Ralph followed their direction and bumped his nose again. My motorcycle, he thought in despair, I’ll never get my motorcycle back if I don’t do it right.
    â€œRalph! Don’t let me down.” Ryan’s voice rose above the shouting.
    Down among the partitions of the maze, with so many lunch-smelling rooters breathing on him, Ralph had no idea of the direction of the peanut butter.
    â€œRalph D. Mouse!” Brad yelled.
    â€œEverybody shut up and give him a chance!” screamed Melissa.
    Suddenly Ralph was angry. He knew he was really a smart mouse. Why should he have to run around banging his nose in front of all these tacos and sandwich gobblers? Nimbly he leaped to the top of the partitions, caught a whiff of pure peanut butter, and took off across the top edges of the maze. He would show them who was smart.
    Ralph was halfway to the peanut butter when he felt Ryan’s egg-sandwich smelling hand close around his body. “Hey,” said Ryan, “you aren’t supposed to do it that way.”

    Ralph, feeling that the world was unfair, found himself back at the beginning of the maze. He was furious. No one had said he had to bump his nose on every single dead end in the maze. Why should he? The object was to reach the peanut butter as fast as possible.
    â€œOn your mark,” said Miss K a second time.
    Bang went the cap gun.
    Ralph leaped to the top of the partition, nimbly raced across the top of the maze, and filled his mouth with peanut butter just as the last bell rang and the room mother began to pass out bags of popcorn.
    Ryan picked up Ralph and poked him into his shirt pocket. “I told you that wasn’t the way you were supposed to do it.” He sounded disgusted.
    Ralph, who was unable to defend himself when his jaws were stuck with peanut butter, felt Ryan was most unjust.
    â€œClass, I wish we had more time,” said Miss K, as her pupils crunched popcorn and scrambled for their wraps. Time and school buses waited for no one.
    â€œHey, Melissa,” said Ryan, “how come you’re taking your boots home?”
    â€œBecause my mother says I can’t watch TV all weekend if I don’t,” answered Melissa.
    Ralph struggled to free his jaws. Would he get his motorcycle back, or wouldn’t he? He had to know.
    â€œRalph Dumb Mouse,” said Brad.
    â€œJust because you don’t have a mouse.” Ryan sounded angry as he slid his arms into his parka. “You’re jealous. That’s what you are.”
    â€œWho wants a smelly old mouse?” scoffed Brad. “You stink, and so does Ralph D. Mouse.”
    â€œYou shut up,” said Ryan.
    â€œMake me,” said Brad.
    Ralph was terrified by the sound of scuffling. With great effort, he freed his jaws and managed a muffled squeak. “Me! I’m here in your pocket! Don’t let him hit me!” His voice was so smothered by the parka that no one could hear him, but Ryan must have remembered. He cupped one hand over his pocket, which left only the other hand for protecting himself. He was pushed, bumped against someone, and fell to the floor.
    The class began to shout, “Fight!