News For Dogs Read Online Free PDF Page B

reading very important, and a copy to one of the families who had adopted a Bulldale. Beyond that, they weren’t very successful. Almost everywhere they went they were told that Jerry Gordon and his cousin, Connor, had been there just ahead of them selling magazine subscriptions.
    “I don’t normally read many magazines, but when Connor described the ones on this particular list theysounded irresistible,” one woman told them. “And half of all the money they make goes to charity.”
    It was late afternoon when they ended their route at the Bernsteins’, where the huge wooden fence threw a shadow over half the front yard. The couple purchased ten copies to send to relatives. Their faces grew tender when Bruce gave them his snapshots of the Bulldales.
    “That littlest one has Bully’s eyes,” Mrs. Bernstein said softly.
    When she read “Ginger’s Heartbreak” and came to the verse about Bully, her own eyes filled with tears.
    “That poem is extraordinary,” she told Andi. “I can’t believe a mere child could describe Bully’s feelings so perfectly. You’ve known him for such a short time, yet you captured his soul! And I never realized the depth of poor Ginger’s feelings. I misjudged that sweet dog so badly. ‘
T’were just five little balls of fur’
— oh, poor Ginger!”
    “We’ve got to go,” Andi said, starting to tear up herself at the beauty of her poem.
    “Not yet!” Mrs. Bernstein cried. “Bully would never forgive me if I didn’t give you a little thank-you present.”
    She disappeared into the kitchen and came hurrying back with two slices of lemon meringue pie.
    When they got back to Tim’s house, he and Debbie were there waiting. They looked very pleased with themselves.
    “So, how many copies did you sell?” Bruce asked them.
    “All of them,” Tim said with a grin.
    “All
fifty?”
Bruce couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You mean, you got twenty-five dollars?”
    “Would you believe twice that?” Tim said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a check. “I asked my dad if we needed to set up a special bank account, but he said he doesn’t think that’s necessary. Andi can endorse the check over to you, and you can deposit it in your savings account. That can be our Red Rover Fund.”
    “But
fifty dollars,
all from one person?” Bruce exclaimed. He looked at the signature. “Margaret Tinkle. Isn’t that Tiffany’s mother? Don’t tell me the Tinkles bought fifty copies of our paper and paid
a dollar apiece
for them?”
    “It was Andi’s poem,” Debbie said. “They reacted to that strongly.”
    “Really?” Andi asked in amazement. She had seen how deeply her poem had affected the Bernsteins but had never imagined that it would have that effect on the Tinkles. Maybe her poem had softened their evil hearts. It was said that great writers had the power to influence their readers. If, at eleven years old, she could already do that, what incredible things might she accomplish when she was older? Her mind went sweeping across the years that lay ahead of her, and she saw herself quite clearly as an old, old woman of forty or so, getting out of bed in the morning and tottering straight to her computer to get to work changing people’s lives for the better.
    “Andi and I only sold fifteen copies,” Bruce said. “That means we’ve got thirty-five left. Let’s try to sell them out in front of the pet store.”
    “That wouldn’t be legal,” Debbie said.
    “That was part of the deal we made with the Tinkles,” Tim explained. “We can’t sell any more copies of this first issue.”
    “What do you mean, we can’t sell more copies?” Andi demanded. “We own
The Bow-Wow News.
We can sell as many copies as we want.”
    “No, we can’t,” Bruce told her, staring at the memo line on the check, on which Mrs. Tinkle had printed,
Payment in full for all rights to Andrea Walker’s poem “Ginger’s Heartbreak.”
“When we deposit this check, your poem