Kindle

Third Person

Fiction

128

14

A fifty dollar bet to eat fifteen worms in fifteen days? It seems like a no-brainer to Billy, but he finds it’s easier said than done especially when Alan the bully stands between him and the prize.

By way of a bet, Billy gets into the uncomfortable position of having to eat fifteen worms. The worms are readily supplied by his opponent, and Billy has a free choice of condiments, from peanut butter to horseradish. With his wavering courage bolstered by the moral support of his friends and family, Billy munches away bravely, but there is many a slip twixt the worm and the lip, and the outcome of the bet is continually in doubt. Young readers will share author Thomas Rockwell’s delight in the incredible pranks of his characters. His fast-paced, original story is written with a genuine understanding of the kind of humor children love. Lively drawings by Emily McCully help make this a bok with irresistable reader appeal.
FROM SCHOOL LIBRARY JOURNAL
Grade 4-7-The story of Billy who, because of a bet, is in the uncomfortable position of having to eat 15 worms in 15 days.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
AMAZON.COM REVIEW
How to Eat Fried Worms has happily repulsed children since its original publication in 1973. Now youngsters can experience this classic story in a whole new yucky way, by listening to it on audiocassette. Narrator Jay O. Sanders gives extra kick and vitality to this already lively yarn. He throws himself into the role of a 10-year-old boy, facing the most revolting bet of his life. Billy must eat 15 worms in 15 days--but the reward will be worth it: $50 for a shiny new minibike. Luckily, Billy’s friends cook up these fat juicy grubs in a variety of appetizing ways--drenched in ketchup and mustard, fried in butter and cornmeal, and the pièce de résistance, a Whizband Worm Delight (an ice-cream worm cake). Sanders derives obvious pleasure from reading (and singing) out loud the hilarious rhymes and childish chants concocted from the mind of the book’s author, Thomas Rockwell.

”Trout, Salmon, flounder, perch,
I’ll ride my minibike into church.
Dace, tuna, haddock, trout,
Wait’ll you hear the minister shout.”

How to Eat Fried Worms is a ghastly gastronomical treat that will dazzle young listeners. (Running time: two hours, two cassettes) --Naomi Gesinger
FROM AUDIOFILE
What would you do for fifty dollars? Billy would buy the minibike he’s been dreaming of. What’s more, Alan knows Billy can’t resist a bet, no matter how revolting. Rockwell’s text is enhanced by musical interludes that range from folksy guitar strains at transitional points to mysterious and accelerated strumming that adds suspense. Sanders’s youthful vocalizations give individual personalities to each of the boys in a presentation that will delight both children and adults. B.L.W. (c)AudioFile, Portland, Maine
FROM THE PUBLISHER
”Because of a bet, Billy is in the uncomfortable position of having to eat fifteen worms in fifteen days. A hilarious story that will revolt and delight bumptious, unreachable intermediate-grade boys and any other less particular mortals that read or listen to it.... Colorful, original writing in a much-needed comic vein.”--Booklist.
REVIEW
Praise for How to Eat Fried Worms:

[STAR] ”The clear writing, clever illustrations, and revolting subject matter are sure to make a hit.”—School Library Journal, Starred Review

”A hilarious story that will revolt and delight....Colorful, original writing in a much-needed comic vein.”—Booklist

”Rockwell’s sensibilities (if that’s the word) are so uncannily close to those of the average ten-year-old boy that one begins to admire Billy as a really sharp operator.”—Kirkus Reviews
FROM THE BACK COVER
Because of a bet, Billy is in the uncomfortable position of having to eat fifteen worms in fifteen days. The worms are supplied by his opponent, whose motto is ”The bigger and juicier, the better!” At first Billy’s problem is whether or not he can swallow the worm placed before him, even with a choice of condiments from peanut butter to horseradish. But later it looks as if Billy will win, and the challenge becomes getting to the worm to eat it. Billy’s family, after checking with the doctor, takes everything in stride. They even help Billy through his gastronomic ordeal, which twists and turns with each new day, leaving the outcome of the bet continually in doubt.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Thomas Rockwell is the author of a number of books for young readers. He was the recipient of the Mark Twain Award, the California Young Reader Medal, and the Sequoyah Award for How to Eat Fried Worms. He lives in Poughkeepsie, NY.
EXCERPT. © REPRINTED BY PERMISSION. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Chapter I: The Bet

Hey, Tom! Where were you last night?”
”Yeah, you missed it.”
Alan and Billy came up the front walk. Tom was sitting on his porch steps, bouncing a tennis ball.
”Old Man Tator caught Joe as we were climbing through the fence, so we all had to go back, and he made us pile the peaches on his kitchen table, and then he called our mothers.”
”Joe’s mother hasn’t let him out yet.”
”Where were you?”
Tom stopped bouncing the tennis ball. He was a tall, skinny boy who took his troubles very seriously.
”My mother kept me in.”
”What for?”
”I wouldn’t eat my dinner.”
Alan sat down on the step below Tom and began to chew his thumbnail.
”What was it?”
”Salmon casserole.”
Billy flopped down on the grass, chunky, snub-nosed, freckled.
”Salmon casserole’s not so bad.”
”Wouldn’t she let you just eat two bites?” asked Alan. ”Sometimes my mother says, well, all right, if I’ll just eat two bites.”
”I wouldn’t eat even one.”
”That’s stupid,” said Billy. ”One bite can’t hurt you. I’d eat one bite of anything before I’d let them send me up to my room right after supper.”
Tom shrugged.
”How about mud?” Alan asked Billy. ”You wouldn’t eat a bite of mud.”
Alan argued a lot, small, knobby-kneed, nervous, gnawing at his thumbnail, his face smudged, his red hair mussed, shirttail hanging out, shoelaces untied.
”Sure, I would,” Billy said. ”Mud. What’s mud? Just dirt with a little water in it. My father says everyone eats a pound of dirt every year anyway.”
”How about poison?”
”That’s different.” Billy rolled over on his back.
”Is your mother going to make you eat the leftovers today at lunch?” he asked Billy.
”She never has before.”
”How about worms?” Alan asked Billy.
Tom’s sister’s cat squirmed out from under the porch and rubbed against Billy’s knee.
”Sure,” said Billy. ”Why not? Worms are just dirt.”
”Yeah, but they bleed.”
”So you’d have to cook them. Cows bleed.”
”I bet a hundred dollars you wouldn’t really eat a worm. You talk big now, but you wouldn’t if you were sitting at the dinner table with a worm on your plate.”
”I bet I would. I’d eat fifteen worms if somebody’d bet me a hundred dollars.”
”You really want to bet? I’ll bet you fifty dollars you can’t eat fifteen worms. I really will.”
”Where’re you going to get fifty dollars?”
”In my savings account. I’ve got one hundred and thirty dollars and seventy-nine cents in my savings account. I know, because last week I put in the five dollars my grandmother gave me for my birthday.”
”Your mother wouldn’t let you take it out.”
”She would if I lost the bet. She’d have to. I’d tell her I was going to sell my stamp collection otherwise. And I bought that with all my own money that I earned mowing lawns, so I can do whatever I want with it. I’ll bet you fifty dollars you can’t eat fifteen worms. Come on. You’re chicken. You know you can’t do it.”
”I wouldn’t do it,” said Tom. ”If salmon casserole makes me sick, think what fifteen worms would do.”
Joe came scuffing up the walk and flopped down beside Billy. He was a small boy, with dark hair and a long nose and big brown eyes.
”What’s going on?”
”Come on,” said Alan to Billy. ”Tom can be your second and Joe’ll be mine, just like in a duel. You think it’s so easy — here’s your chance to make fifty bucks.”
Billy dangled a leaf in front of the cat, but the cat just rubbed against his knee, purring.
”What kind of worms?”
”Regular worms.”
”Not those big green ones that get on the tomatoes. I won’t eat those. And I won’t eat them all at once. It might make me sick. One worm a day for fifteen days.”
”And he can eat them any way he wants,” said Tom. ”Boiled, stewed, fried, fricasseed.”
”Yeah, but we provide the worms,” said Joe. ”And there have to be witnesses present when he eats them; either me or Alan or somebody we can trust. Not just you and Billy.”
”Okay?” Alan said to Billy.
Billy scratched the cat’s ears. Fifty dollars. That was lot of money. How bad could a worm taste? He’d eaten fried liver, salmon loaf, mushrooms, tongue, pig’s feet. Other kids’ parents were always nagging them to eat, eat; his had begun to worry about how much he ate. Not that he was fat. He just hadn’t worked off all his winter blubber yet.
He slid his hand into his shirt and furtively squeezed the side of his stomach. Worms were just dirt; dirt wasn’t fattening.
If he won fifty dollars, he could buy that mini-bike George Cunningham’s brother had promised to sell him in September before he went away to college. Heck, he could gag anything down for fifty dollars, couldn’t he?
He looked up. ”I can use ketchup or mustard or anything like that? As much as I want?”
Alan nodded. ”Okay?”
Billy stood up.
”Okay.”
FROM THE INSIDE FLAP
”Because of a bet, Billy is in the uncomfortable position of having to eat fifteen worms in fifteen days. A hilarious story that will revolt and delight bumptious, unreachable intermediate-grade boys and any other less particular mortals that read or listen to it.... Colorful, original writing in a much-needed comic vein.”--”Booklist.

Dell Publishing Co., Inc.

9780440445456

United States

1980-02-01

FIC ROC

1

English

R

1

2023-10-03 14:14:52