Henry and Ribsy by Beverly Cleary

With water dripping off his clothes and squishing out of his shoes, Henry lugged his fish toward the scales.
    Several men who were waiting to weigh their catches turned to look at Henry. Mr. Huggins and Mr. Grumbie were just climbing the steps from the river. They looked tired, their faces were red from the wind and cold, and they both needed a shave. To Henry’s relief, Mr. Grumbie was carrying a salmon.
    â€œDad, look!” called Henry, trying to keep his fish from sliding out of his arms.
    Mr. Huggins stared. Then he whistled.
    â€œWell, look at that!” said Mr. Grumbie.
    â€œCaught it with his bare hands,” explained the man who had helped Henry. “Yes, sir, the boy waded right into that stream and tackled the fish with his bare hands. Never saw anything like it.”
    â€œAnd I didn’t get a bite all day,” said Mr. Huggins.
    â€œCome on, let’s see how much it weighs,” suggested Mr. Grumbie.
    Mr. Huggins helped Henry hang his fish on the scales. Henry held his breath until the hand spun around and stopped at twenty-nine pounds. Twenty-nine pounds! “Wow!” said Henry in a hushed voice.
    Ribsy ran around the fish, barking. All the fishermen began to talk at once. “Wait a minute till I get the camera out of the car,” said Mr. Huggins. “I want a picture of this.”
    Henry stood proudly beside his catch while the man who had helped him told the story of how he caught the salmon all over again to the men who had just returned from the river.
    Then Henry saw Mr. McCarthy and Scooter getting out of a boat at the foot of the steps. He noticed that Mr. McCarthy carried two silverside salmon. Scooter carried a lunch box.
    Henry tried to look casual as Scooter and his father climbed the steps. “Hi, Scoot,” he called, as Mr. Huggins returned with the camera.
    â€œStand close to the fish,” said Mr. Huggins. He did not need to tell Henry to smile.
    Henry grabbed Ribsy and made him stand at his feet. “If Ribsy hadn’t barked at the salmon, I wouldn’t have seen it,” he explained. Ribsy kept his eye on the salmon and growled deep in his throat.
    â€œDid you catch that fish?” demanded Scooter, as the camera clicked.

    â€œSure,” said Henry.
    â€œWith his bare hands,” put in the man who helped Henry. “Never saw anything like it. Just waded in and tackled it with his bare hands.”
    â€œHow do you like that!” muttered Scooter. “A chinook!”
    â€œCome on, Henry,” said Mr. Huggins, as he lifted the salmon off the hook. “You’d better get out of those wet clothes and wrap up in the auto robe.”
    â€œOK, Dad. So long, Scooter. See you around,” Henry called, as he started toward the car. He felt sorry for Scooter standing there with his lunch box in his hand. It must be tough to fish all day and not catch anything.
    Barking at the salmon, Ribsy trotted after Mr. Huggins. “Good old Ribsy,” said Henry. Then he began to sing at the top of his voice:
    â€œWoofies Dog Food is the best,
    Contains more meat than all the rest.
    So buy your dog a can today
    And watch it chase his blues away.
    Woof, woof, woof, Woofies!”

About the Author
    BEVERLY CLEARY is one of America’s most popular authors. Born in McMinnville, Oregon, she lived on a farm in Yamhill until she was six and then moved to Portland. After college, as the children’s librarian in Yakima, Washington, she was challenged to find stories for non-readers. She wrote her first book, HENRY HUGGINS , in response to a boy’s question, “Where are the books about kids like us?”
    Mrs. Cleary’s books have earned her many prestigious awards, including the American Library Association’s Laura Ingalls Wilder Award, presented in recognition of her lasting contribution to children’s literature. Her DEAR MR. HENSHAW was awarded the 1984 John Newbery Medal, and both RAMONA