Here's a Penny Page 7

  Carrying the basket of crabs up the steep steps of the car was not easy, but the boys managed it slowly.

  Mother led the way to four vacant seats that faced each other in the center of the car. The suitcase she stowed away on the rack overhead. The bag containing Really and Truly she placed on the floor.

  "Now, boys," she said, "you will have to put the basket of crabs between the seats and do the best you can with your feet and legs. After all, the crabs were your idea."

  "Okay!" said Peter, as the boys reached the seat. "Put it down, Penny."

  Penny dropped his end of the basket so suddenly that it startled Peter, and before you could say "Boo!" the basket of crabs had tipped over and nearly all the crabs and the seaweed lay sprawling in the aisle.

  The excited crabs began scrambling in all directions. Women and children, nearby, jumped up on the seats to get out of the way of the pinching crabs. The children yelled and squealed. The aisle was blocked and people couldn't get through. When they saw the crabs scurrying around in the aisle and under the seats, they fled out of the doors of the car.

  Minnie started to cry, "Goodness! Goodness!"

  Peter righted the basket while Penny jumped up and down and cried, "Oh, Mummy! Oh, Mummy! Oh, Mummy!"

  "Be quiet, Penny. Minnie, stop yelling and do something," said Mother. "Here, give me the pancake turner."

  Mother pulled the pancake turner out of the shopping bag and went after a nearby crab. She scooped for it but it slid right off. Meanwhile, the other crabs were getting farther and farther away. Everyone in the car was either kneeling or standing on the seats and they were all watching the crabs.

  "Oh, dear!" said Mother. "This will never do. Here, give me the soup ladle."

  Minnie handed over the soup ladle. With the pancake turner under the crab and the soup ladle pinning it down on top, Mother was able to lift one crab back into the basket. And then, the crabs in the basket started such a commotion as their fellow crab returned. Mother went after another.

  By this time, most of the crabs had hidden under the seats. They could be heard scratching their claws on the floor.

  "I think I can get them, Mother," said Peter. "I can get under the seats more easily."

  Meanwhile, Minnie had gathered up the seaweed. She kept muttering over and over, "I never did trust crabs. They're just plain wicked."

  The aisle was now cleared of everything but Peter and Penny, who went crawling up and down looking for crabs. Peter had the pancake turner in one hand and the soup ladle in the other. Every once in a while he would chase a crab out from under a seat, put the pancake turner under it, the soup ladle on top of it, and drop it into the basket. Many a time he dropped the crab and had to begin over again, but by the time the train had gone halfway home, all of the wandering crabs had been caught and were safely back in the basket. They had settled down under the seaweed.

  Once, Penny looked down at the basket and said, "I'm glad we didn't lose the crabs, aren't you, Mummy?"

  "Well," replied Mother, "it would have been better to have left them in the ocean."

  "Oh, but Mother," said Penny, "they are such beautiful crabs!"

  "Beautiful crabs!" muttered Minnie. "Just full of meanness, that's what. Nothing beautiful about them."

  At the end of the journey, Mother asked the conductor if he would lift the basket off the train. Peter and Penny carried it safely to a taxicab.

  At last they reached home and Mother and Minnie breathed a sigh of relief.

  "I won't trust those crabs until I get them in the pot," said Minnie. And without taking off her hat, she put a big kettle of water on the stove.

  When the water was boiling, she threw the crabs in one by one. As she did so, she muttered to herself, "Beautiful crabs! I just hope I never travel again with crabs. The most awful good-for-nothing nuisance in the world is a crab."

  When they were done, Minnie laid the big fat crabs out on the kitchen table. Penny came into the kitchen. Minnie stood back and admired the crabs. Then a broad grin spread over her face. "My! Oh, my, Penny!" she said. "Aren't they beautiful crabs?"

  CAROLYN HAYWOOD (1898–1990) was born in Philadelphia and began her career as an artist. She hoped to become a children's book illustrator, but at an editor's suggestion, she began writing stories about the everyday lives of children. The first of those, "B" Is for Betsy, was published in 1939, and more than fifty other books followed. One of America's most popular authors for children, Ms. Haywood used many of her own childhood experiences in her novels. "I write for children," she once explained, "because I feel that they need to know what is going on in their world and they can best understand it through stories."