Free Junie B. Jones Has a Peep in Her Pocket by Barbara Park Page A

FARM!” shouted the children. “A FARM! A FARM! WE’RE GOING TO A FARM!”
    Then Lucille hugged me very thrilled.
    “A farm!” she said real squealy in my ear.
    “A farm,” I said real glum.
    ’Cause guess what?
    Farms are not my favorites.

2 / Stubby
    That night, I ate dinner with Mother and Daddy and my baby brother named Ollie.
    Only I couldn’t even swallow that good. ’Cause I was still upset about the field trip, that’s why.
    “I don’t want to go,” I said. “I don’t want to go to the farm with Room Nine. ’Cause a farm is the most dangerous place I ever heard of.”
    Daddy looked surprised at me.
    “What are you talking about, Junie B.?”he said. “What’s dangerous about a farm?”
    “The ponies, of course,” I said. “The ponies are dangerous. Farms have ponies running in their fields. And ponies can stomple you into the ground and kill you to death.”
    Mother covered her face with her hands.
    “No, Junie B.,
please.
Not this pony thing again. We’ve talked about this a hundred times. I’ve told you over and over that ponies do not hurt you.”
    “Yes, they do too hurt you, Mother!” I said. “I saw it on TV with my own eyeballs!”
    Mother looked at Daddy.
    “It was that stupid cable show the babysitter let her watch,” she said. “It was called—”
    “
WHEN PONIES ATTACK
,” Ihollered. “IT WAS CALLED
WHEN PONIES ATTACK!
”
    After that, Daddy covered his face, too. Then, all of a sudden, he busted out in a loud hoot of laughing. And he couldn’t even stop himself.
    Mother’s cheeks sucked way into her head.
    “Thank you,” she said. “You’re being a huge help here.”
    Then Daddy got up from his chair. And he went to his room for a time-out.
    That’s when me and Mother had another long talk about ponies.
    She told me that her uncle Billy used to have a farm. And that the farm had a pony named Stubby. And that Stubby was gentle as a lamb.
    “As a matter of fact, Uncle Billy hadalmost every kind of farm animal you can think of,” said Mother. “Pigs, cows, sheep, chickens, goats. He even had a mean old rooster named Spurs. But out of all those animals, the pony was the sweetest.”
    Mother smiled. “You would have loved Stubby, Junie B.,” she said. “He used to follow me around like a puppy.”
    “He did?” I said.
    “He did,” she said back. “Honest, honey. I would
never
let you go to a farm if there was even the teeniest chance you would be hurt by any of the animals. But my uncle Billy’s farm had the gentlest animals I ever saw.”
    Mother smiled a little bit. “Well, except for that mean old rooster, anyway,” she said.
    Just then, Daddy came back into the kitchen.
    He said a ’pology to me.
    “I’m sorry, Junie B. I didn’t mean to laugh. But that TV show you saw was just so ridiculous, I couldn’t help it.”
    After that, he sat down at the table. And he filled out my permission slip for the farm.
    “You’re going to love this trip,” he told me. “We’ll get you one of those little throwaway cameras from the drugstore. And you can take pictures of all the animals you see.”
    “Great idea,” said Mother. “And I’ll take you shopping for a brand-new pair of overalls. And I’ll even pack you your very favorite lunch.”
    After that, I got down from my chair very quiet. And I went to my room.

    Then I climbed onto my bed. And I hugged my stuffed animals real tight.
    ’Cause I kept on thinking and thinking about what Mother said about Uncle Billy’s animals. But mostly, I kept thinking about that mean old rooster.
    On account of one time at my school, a boy named meanie Jim brought his rooster for Pet Day. And he said that roosters can peck your head into a nub. And that is not pleasant, I tell you.
    I hugged my animals even tighter.
    ’Cause guess what?
    Roosters are a jillion times scarier than ponies.

3 / Pictures
    The next morning, Mother called me for breakfast.
    “Good morning,” said Mother.
    “Good morning,” said