“I like twesure,” Squeak said, porridge dribbling down his chin.
“I like treasure, too,” Homer said.
Mr. Pudding drummed his calloused fingers on the table. “Could we go just one meal without talking about finding treasure? Or stuffing dead animals? I don’t know where I went wrong with you children.”
Mrs. Pudding poured herself a cup of coffee, then added a ladle of fresh milk. “There’s nothing wrong with having interests.”
“Interests?” Mr. Pudding scratched the back of his weathered neck. “Stuffing dead animals and finding lost treasure—what kind of interests are those? Why can’t they be interested in goat farming? Is that too much to ask? Who’s gonna run this farm when I’m too old to run it?”
“Me,” Squeak said. “I like goats.”
As sweet as that sounded, it gave Mr. Pudding no peace of mind. Squeak was only five years old. Yesterday he had wanted to be a dragon-slayer.
“Goat farming’s honest, solid work,” Mr. Pudding said, dumping brown sugar on his porridge. “You children don’t understand the importance of honest, solid work.”
Gwendolyn rolled her eyes again. Then she sank deeper, until her bottom was hanging off the edge of her chair. Homer was bored by the conversation again. He tried to dig a hole in his porridge but the sides kept caving in—like trying to dig for treasure in mud.
Now, Mr. Pudding loved all three of his children equally, like any good father. But he didn’t believe that giving them extra room to be individuals, or giving extra encouragement or extra food and kisses, did much good. Solid work meant a solid life, which in turn meant a roof, and a bed, and food on the table. What could be more important than that?
Mr. Pudding pushed his empty bowl aside, then unrolled the Sunday City Paper. “Wouldn’t surprise me one bit if I started reading and found out that my brother had been robbed or had fallen into a manhole. I’m sure something terrible’s gonna happen to him. The City’s a terrible place.”
As he read, muttering and shaking his head, the children finished their breakfast. Gwendolyn carried her bowl to the sink, as did Homer.
“Mom, when I’m done cleaning the stalls, can I go read my new map?” Homer asked.
“Of course.” Mrs. Pudding kissed Homer’s soft cheek, then whispered in his ear. “I believe in you, Homer. I know you’ll find treasure one day.”
Homer looked into his mother’s brown eyes with their big flecks of gold—like coins half-buried in the sand. When he became a famous treasure hunter, he’d give all the jewels to her so she could wear a different necklace every day and buy new dresses and shoes. And one of those fancy crowns that beauty queens wear.
But chores came first. He started for the kitchen door when Mr. Pudding waved the newspaper and hollered, “I knew it! I knew something terrible would happen to him!”
Ready for more excitement?
More magic?
More FUN?
Collect all the adventures by Suzanne Selfors!
Also by Suzanne Selfors:
To Catch a Mermaid
Smells Like Dog
Smells Like Treasure
Contents
Front Cover Image
Welcome
Dedication
Acknowledgments
One: A Slimy Gift
Two: Mama Lu
Three: Strange Deliveries
Four: The Room on the Fourth Floor
Five: The Hooded Stranger
Six: A Surprise for Gwen
Seven: Mr. Supreme
Eight: Big Trouble
Nine: Escape from Runny Cove
Ten: A Boy Named Sage
Eleven: How to Ride an Elephant Seal
Twelve: Floating in Fog
Thirteen: The Island of Mysterious Holes
Fourteen: A New Friend
Fifteen: Great-Uncle Walnut
Sixteen: Trouble on the Trail
Seventeen: The Solemn Promise
Eighteen: The Colors of Isabelle
Nineteen: A New Home
Twenty: The Dark Window
Twenty-One: The Seed Depository
Twenty-Two: The Broken Promise
Twenty-Three: Daffodilly Fortune
Twenty-Four: Sage’s Story
Twenty-Five: Escape from Fortune’s Farm
Twenty-Six: The Truest Tender
Twenty-Seven: Cherries for Everyone
Twenty-Eight: Marmots to the Rescue
Twenty-Nine: Sunny Cove
A Preview of SMELLS LIKE DOG
Also by Suzanne Selfors
Copyright
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2009 by Suzanne Selfors
Illustrations copyright © 2009 by Catia Chien
Excerpt of Smells Like Dog copyright © 2010 by Suzanne Selfors
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Little, Brown and Company
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
www.hachettebookgroup.com
www.twitter.com/littlebrown
Second e-book edition: February 2012
Little, Brown and Company is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
ISBN 978-0-316-04095-2
