Free Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume Page A

when he’s six or seven he’ll get new ones.”
    â€œSee,” Fudge said, opening his mouth. “All gone.”
    My father said, “Janet, the boys are going to be here for the morning. Can you amuse them while I clear up some work?”
    â€œCertainly, Mr. Hatcher,” Janet said. “You go ahead into your office and I’ll take the boys on a tour of the rest of the agency.”
    As soon as my father went into his private office Janet took out her pocketbook. She reached in and came up with a hairbrush, some lipstick, and a bag of crackers. “Want some?” she asked me and Fudge.
    â€œOkay,” I said, taking a handful. Fudge did the same. The crackers were shaped like little goldfish. I nibbled while Janet fixed herself up. She had a big folding mirror in her desk drawer. She set it on top of her desk and went to work on herself. When she was finished she looked exactly the same as when we came in. But I guess she didn’t think so because she said, “That’s much better.” Then she put all her stuff away and took me by one hand and Fudge by the other.
    We walked down a long hall through a doorway and into another section of the agency. We came to a room where there were a bunch of kids with mothers. I guess there were at least fifty of them. Most of the kids were kind of small, like Fudge. Some were crying.
    â€œIs this a nursery school or what?” I asked Janet.
    She laughed. “They’re here to try out for the new Toddle-Bike commercial.”
    â€œYou mean they all want to be the kid who rides the Toddle-Bike on TV?”
    â€œYes. At least their mothers want them to be picked,” Janet said. “But we can only use one.”
    â€œYou mean only one out of all these kids is going to be picked?”
    â€œThat’s right,” Janet said.
    â€œWho picks him?” I asked.
    â€œYour father and Mr. Denberg are doing it. But of course Mr. Vincent, the president of the Toddle-Bike company, has to approve.”
    Just then a door opened and a secretary came out. “Next,” she called to the waiting kids.
    â€œMy Murray’s next!” a mother said.
    â€œOh no he’s not!” another mother called. “Sally is next.”
    â€œLadies . . . please! You’ll all have a turn,” the secretary said.
    Murray got to be next. He was a little redheaded kid. He wasn’t in the other room for two minutes when the door opened and a big man with a cigar in his mouth came out. “No, no, no!” he shouted. “He’s not the type at all.”
    Murray was crying. His mother yelled at the big man. “What do you know, anyway? You wouldn’t know a treasure if you found one!” She shook her fist at him.
    Janet whispered to me. “That’s Mr. Vincent, the president of Toddle-Bike.”
    Mr. Vincent walked to the center of the room. He looked around at all the kids. When he looked over at us he pointed and called. “There he is! That’s the kid I want!”
    I thought he meant me. I got excited. I could just see myself on TV riding the Toddle-Bike. All my friends would turn on their sets and say, “Hey, look! There’s Peter.”
    While I was thinking about what fun it would be Mr. Vincent came over to us and grabbed Fudge. He lifted him up. “Perfect!” he cried. “He’s perfect.”
    The mothers who were waiting packed up their kids and left right away.
    Mr. Vincent took off with Fudge in his arms. Janet chased him. She called, “But, Mr. Vincent . . . you don’t understand. . . .”
    I ran after Janet.
    Mr. Vincent carried Fudge into the other room. He announced, “I found him myself! The perfect kid to ride the Toddle-Bike in my new commercial.”
    Mr. Vincent put Fudge down and took the cigar out of his mouth. There were two other men in the room. One of them was Mr. Denberg. The