Arthur, for the Very First Time - Softcover

MacLachlan, Patricia

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0064402886 ISBN 13: 9780064402880

Publisher: HarperCollins, 1989

Synopsis

Arthur Rasby is ten years old and having the worst summer of his life. His parents don't listen to him, so he writes everything down -- everything that's real -- in his journal. But when he goes to stay with his Great-Aunt Elda and Great-Uncle Wrisby on their farm, his world is turned upside down. For the first time Arthur wonders what's real and what's not.

His aunt and uncle do things Arthur's parents would never do -- like climbing out windows to sit in trees, singing to their pet pig, and speaking French to a pet chicken. Life on the farm happens much too fast to write down -- sometimes wonderful, sometimes terrible. Arthur begins to understand there is more than one way of seeing and doing and loving. And he realizes there's a whole world just waiting to be discovered.

About this title

About the Authors

Patricia MacLachlan (1938-2022) was the celebrated author of many timeless books for young readers, including Sarah, Plain and Tall, winner of the Newbery Medal. She was also the author of many beloved picture books, a number of which she cowrote with her daughter, Emily.

Lloyd Bloom is the award-winning illustrator of numerous children's books, including Like Jake and Me and Yonder. He lives in Brooklyn, New York.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Excerpt

Moles

The summer that Arthur Rasby was ten years old was a problem summer. During thedaytime his mother and father argued. At night they whispered loudly. Also, thedownstairs toilet hummed and wouldn't stop. The plumber, a woman in overalls thecolor of vanilla pudding, came to fix the hum. She banged, poked and stuck herhead down the tank. The hum went on, though.

"Do you like your job?" asked Arthur politely. He perched on the edge of thebathtub taking notes in his journal.

"Until now," said the plumber grumpily.

After the plumber left, Arthur kicked the toilet hard and the humming stopped.

Then moles came to visit the Rasby lawn. At least that's what Arthur's fathersaid they were. He showed the crisscross of humped lines on the lawn to Arthur.

"What do moles look like?" asked Arthur.

"Ugly," said his father. Arthur wrote in his journal:

Moles: ugly

"And they always come no matter what I do!" said his father angrily.

Ugly, but loyal,

wrote Arthur. A nice quality, he thought.

When Arthur asked more questions, his father yelled and threw a shovel againstthe garage. It left a brown mark on the white paint, which made his father evenangrier.

Arthur sat a long time beneath the honeysuckle bush waiting to see a mole. Hewondered if moles had humming toilets and grumpy fathers too. Did they havesmall unseen creatures burrowing in their lawns? He put his ear close tothe ground hoping to hear the sound of scrambling feet, or at least flushing,but all he saw was a black ant carrying a large white crumb. He smoothed a grasspath for it so it wouldn't stumble.

Arthur's father came out of the house and put his hand on Arthur's head. "Let'sfix ourselves something for dinner," he said. "Mom's not feeling well."

Arthur knew that this was his father's way of saying he was sorry for yellingabout moles.

"What is there to eat?"

"Chipped beef," said Arthur's father, and they both laughed.

They went inside, holding hands.

"Are you lonely this summer?" asked Arthur's father as they atepeanut-butter-and-lettuce sandwiches.

Arthur"s friends had all gone to camp or to visit their grandparents. But Arthurknew what his father really meant. He knew his mother was going to have a baby.He just didn't want anybody to know that he knew. Nobody had told him. But hethought he knew the signs. His mother stopped to babble and ogle atbabiesstrange babies. It was embarrassing. She spent her mornings in thebathroom being sick, which, Arthur thought, was the trouble with the toilet. Shegot faraway looks on her face. "What?" she asked Arthur idly when he asked her aquestion. "What did you say?"

Arthur knew that his father would want him to like the idea of having a brotheror sister. But Arthur didn't. Babies were not human. They made monkey sounds.You couldn't talk to them. They grabbed things and wet their pants and threw upall over everything. Arthur knew. He had made a study of babies. He had anentire narrow-lined notebook full of observations on babies. And he didn't wantone.

"No,", Arthur said to his father. "I'm not, lonely. But I sure would like a petrat. A white one with a long pink tail."

"A white what?" asked Arthur's mother, standing at the kitchen door.

"A white rat," Arthur told her with some satisfaction. He knew how his motherfelt about rats. He watched her bathrobe billow out behind her as she fled tothe bathroom.

And so it was that Arthur came to stay with his Great-Aunt Elda and Great-UncleWrisby the summer of his tenth year.

"They'd like to have you," said his mother.

"There's lots to do there," said his father.

And Arthur went to his aunt and uncle's house while his parents went off topractice not yelling at each other.

On the way to his aunt and uncle's, Arthur took out his journal to see what hehad written about them. When he had been seven, he had written one entry undertheir name.

Their house is big like a manshun. It smells like banas.

He corrected the spelling to read "bananas" and stared a bit at "manshun."Arthur had been almost a baby when he'd written that. The thought made himsquirm. He wondered if he'd been a monkey-babbling, wet, grabbing baby.

"Here we are," called his father. Arthur heard a strange note of excitement inhis voice.

The house was immense. Arthur smiled. Some things didn't change from when he wasseven years old. Once he had revisited a mountain, only to find that when he wasten years old the mountain was only a small hill. The house reached back overthe land like someone stretching, its wings on either side like arms thrownback. Arthur wondered if it would still smell like bananas. Arthur could seeUncle Wrisby's famous garden in the side yard, planted in alternate rows ofonions and roses. No one had ever known why he planted such a garden. Maybe noone had ever asked. Arthur made a note in his journal to find out why.

Uncle Wrisby loped out to the car, tilted slightly forward as if he had a windat his back. He was uncommonly tall, with a small head much like a grayingtennis ball. It perched on top of his body precariously, as delicate as thegold-rimmed glasses that rested on his nose.

He bent down to peer in the car windows. "Come in, come in," he shouted. He washard of hearing, so he yelled. Everyone who talked to him yelled, too, eventhough Uncle Wrisby read lips very well.

Excerpted from Arthur, for the Very First Time by Patricia MacLachlan. Copyright © 1980 by Patricia MacLachlan. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

Copyright © 1980 Patricia MacLachlan. All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0-06-440288-6

Edition details

• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Publication date: 1989
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0064402886
• ISBN 13: 9780064402880
• Binding: Paperback
• Illustrator: Bloom Lloyd
• Number of pages: 117