Free Otis Spofford by Beverly Cleary

said it was like being in a room with thirty-five wild Indians.
    After lunch, when everyone had again scrambled out of boots, sweaters, jackets, coats, scarves, earmuffs, caps, and mittens, half the class complained about being hit by snowballs by the other half. Everyone was saying either “I did not,” or “You did, too,” until Mrs. Gitler clapped her hands, blew on her pitch pipe, and had everyone sing Jingle Bells . That helped for a few minutes. The rest of the afternoon, while Mrs. Gitler tried to teach, the boys and girls looked out of the windows to see if more snow was falling or at the clock to see how much time was left before they could be out in it. Mrs. Gitler looked at the clock too, and said she was glad when the last period of the day came and she could tell the class to take out their readers.
    Reluctantly, Otis took With Luke and Letty on the Oregon Trail out of his desk. With a feeling of great dislike, he looked at the picture on the cover. Another couple of dopes, thought Otis. Boys and girls in readers were always dopes. They were always polite and they never used slang and they hardly ever did anything they shouldn’t. Except for wearing old-fashioned clothes and saying “Yes, Pa,” instead of “Yes, Father,” Luke and Letty were just like all the rest. Dopes!
    Yesterday the class had read about Luke and Letty crossing the North Platte River in their covered wagon. Nothing much happened. The wagon tipped a little and Letty said, “Oh, Pa, what will we do if the wagon tips over?” It didn’t tip over, though. Otis thought that if he had written the story he would have dumped the whole bunch of them into the river and had them chased by a herd of buffalo besides.
    With no enthusiasm at all, Otis turned to the next chapter. There was a picture of an Indian at the top of the page. That was a good sign. Something might happen in this chapter. If he had his way about it, the Indian would scalp old Luke and Letty and that would be the end of the reader.
    Mrs. Gitler called on Stewy to read first. He read, without expression, “‘Look, Pa, Indians,’ said Luke. ‘Oh, Ma, what shall we do?’ asked Letty.”
    Otis made a face. That was the way Luke and Letty always talked. It sounded even worse the way Stewy read. Well, he knew what he would do if Indians were coming after him. He’d grab a gun and get down inside the covered wagon where the Indians couldn’t see him and then when they got close enough…
    “Otis.” Mrs. Gitler’s voice broke into his thoughts. “You may read next.”
    Otis got to his feet. He wasn’t sure where the place was, but he took a chance. “Uh…Letty climbed into the wagon to hide from the Indians while Luke helped Pa round up the cattle that followed—”
    Mrs. Gitler interrupted. “Otis, I don’t know where you have been, but the rest of the class has traveled to the top of the next page. Please begin there.”

    Otis continued. “Then Pa said, ‘Do not be afraid. These Indians are friends of the white man. They bring us robes made of buffalo skins.’” Otis paused. How do you like that! he thought. Friendly Indians! Who wanted to read about friendly Indians?
    “Go on, Otis,” said Mrs. Gitler.
    “But, Mrs. Gitler,” objected Otis, “I thought the Indians went on the warpath and burned the pioneers’ wagons and stuff. They do in the movies.”
    All the other boys nodded in agreement. George spoke up. “I went to the show Saturday and there was this Indian that—”
    “Never mind, George,” said Mrs. Gitler sharply. “Many of the Indians were friendly to the pioneers. Right now we are studying the reader, not the movies.”
    Most of the boys and girls in the class had seen the same movie. They, too, preferred movie Indians to reader Indians. The room buzzed with talk about the movie.
    Stewy said, “And there was this Indian creeping up on—”
    “Never mind,” said Mrs. Gitler even more sharply, as she glanced at the clock. “You may