Tucker's Countryside (17 page)

“Fifteen papers and four magazines,” said Mario. “And Paul just bought a Sunday
Times.
”

“No one took a
Musical America,
or anything else nice?” Papa was very proud that his newsstand carried all of what he called the “quality magazines.”

“No,” answered Mario.

“So you spend less time playing with cricketers, you'll sell more papers,” said Mama.

“Oh now now,” Papa soothed her. “Mario can't help it if nobody buys.”

“You can tell the temperature with crickets too,” said Mario. “You count the number of chirps in a minute, divide by four, and add forty. They're very intelligent.”

“Who needs a cricketer-thermometer?” said Mama. “It's coming on summer, it's New York—it's hot. And how do you know so much about cricketers? Are you one?”

“Jimmy Lebovski told me last summer,” said Mario.

“Then give it to the expert Jimmy Lebovski,” said Mama. “Bugs carry germs. He doesn't come in the house.”

Mario looked down at his new friend in the palm of his hand. Just for once he had been really happy. The cricket seemed to know that something was wrong. He jumped onto the shelf and crept into the matchbox.

“He could keep it here in the newsstand,” suggested Papa.

Mario jumped at that idea. “Yes, and then he wouldn't have to come home. I could feed him here, and leave him here, and you'd never have to see him,” he said to Mama. “And when you took the stand, I'd bring him with me.”

Mama paused. “Cricketer,” she said scornfully. “What do we want with a cricketer?”

“What do we want with a newsstand?” said Papa. “We got it—let's keep it.” There was something resigned, but nice, about Papa.

“You said I could have a dog,” said Mario, “but I never got him. And I never got a cat, or a bird, or anything. I wanted this cricket for my pet.”

“He's yours, then,” said Papa. And when Papa spoke in a certain quiet tone—that was all there was to it. Even Mama didn't dare disagree.

She took a deep breath. “Oh well—” she sighed. And Mario knew it would be all right. Mama's saying “oh well” was her way of giving in. “But only on trial he stays. At the first sign of the cricketer friends, or if we come down with peculiar diseases—out he goes!”

“Yes, Mama, anything you say,” said Mario.

“Come on, Mario,” Papa said. “Help me close up.”

Mario held the matchbox up to his eye. He was sure the cricket looked much happier, now that he could stay. “Good night,” he said. “I'll be back in the morning.”

“Talking to it yet!” said Mama. “I've got a cricketer for a son.”

Papa took one side of the cover to the newsstand, Mario the other, and together they fitted it on. Papa locked it. As they were going downstairs to the trains, Mario looked back over his shoulder. He could almost feel the cricket, snugged away in his matchbox bed, in the darkness.

An Imprint of Macmillan

TUCKER'S COUNTRYSIDE. Text copyright © 1969 by George Selden. Illustrations copyright © 1969 by Garth Williams. All rights reserved. For information, address Square Fish, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

Square Fish and the Square Fish logo are trademarks of Macmillan and are used by Farrar Straus Giroux under license from Macmillan.

Originally published in the United States by Farrar Straus Giroux

First Square Fish Edition: May 2012

Square Fish logo designed by Filomena Tuosto

mackids.com

eISBN 9781466863576

First eBook edition: December 2013