"B" Is for Betsy Read Free

wet with tears.

    Just then Betsy remembered her bread and jelly sandwiches. She opened the pocket of her schoolbag and pulled out the little package. Betsy gave one of the sandwiches to Ellen and the two little girls sat side by side eating them and talking of Koala.
    When recess was over they tucked Koala back into Betsy's schoolbag and hand in hand ran to their classroom.
    When the day was over and it was time to go home, Ellen called, "Good-bye, Betsy"; and Betsy said, "Good-bye, Ellen, I'll see you tomorrow."
    As Betsy went down the steps of the school
she saw Mother waiting for her by the schoolyard gate. Betsy rushed to her.
    "Did you have a happy day, dear?" asked Mother.
    "Mother," said Betsy, "I have a friend. Her name is Ellen."

3 How Betsy Went to School Alone

    Every day during September Mother had walked to school with Betsy. Every night when Betsy went to bed she would say, "Pretty soon I will be able to go to school by myself." She was certain now that she knew the way. You walked to the corner and followed the cartracks to the railroad station. You went under the bridge and turned right on the second street. Then you
went on until you came to the big, wide street where Mr. Kilpatrick stood.
    Mr. Kilpatrick was the policeman who took the children across the street before and after school. He was a big man with a merry, red face and he loved little boys and girls. He would blow his sharp whistle and all the automobiles and wagons would stop. Then he would gather a group of boys and girls around him, and, like a hen with her chickens, hurry them across the wide street. "Hurry up, Bobby," he would say. "Mind you get a hundred today, Bill. Come along, Betty Lou, pick up your feet; sure I can't keep the traffic waiting all day."
    Mr. Kilpatrick's bright red police car was always parked near the corner. Betsy thought it was a beautiful car. It was so red and shiny. Father's automobile was black and only the wheels were red. She wished that Father was a policeman; then she could ride in an automobile that was all red.
    One morning, when Mother and Betsy were crossing the street, Mr. Kilpatrick called out, "Good morning, Little Red Ribbons; sure that's a pretty plaid schoolbag you've got over your shoulder."

    Betsy liked Mr. Kilpatrick. She looked forward to seeing him every morning and every afternoon. Rain or shine he was always there. Mother told Betsy that she must never, never cross the wide street without Mr. Kilpatrick, and Betsy said she never would.
    One evening, Betsy said, "Mother, I am sure I can go to school alone now. I know the way."
    "Very well," said Mother. "You may go alone tomorrow."
    Betsy felt very big indeed as she walked out of her front gate alone the following morning. Mother stood at the door and watched Betsy go up the street. When she reached the corner she looked back and waved her hand. Mother threw her a kiss.

    Betsy followed the cartracks. After she passed the turn in the road, she could see the railroad bridge by the station. It was easy to go to school alone, thought Betsy. She walked along as quickly as her short little legs could carry her. Sometimes she skipped and her schoolbag bounced up and down.
    As she passed the flower shop, she stopped to look in the window. Betsy loved flowers and these were beautiful. Soon she was so busy choosing the flowers she liked best that she forgot Mother had told her never to look in the shop windows on the way to school because she might look too long and be late. When she remembered Mother's warning, Betsy began to run. It would be dreadful to be late the very first morning that Mother had let her go alone! Now she was at the railroad station. Under the bridge and around the corner she ran. Soon she would reach Mr. Kilpatrick. She was out of breath from running. She would have to walk for a while. Betsy trotted along.
    It was strange not to see any other children. She usually saw them after she passed the railroad station. Perhaps they were