Winner of The Great Stone Face Award.
Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothingby Judy Blume
Life with his little brother, Fudge, makes Peter Hatcher feel like a fourth grade nothing. Whether Fudge is throwing a temper tantrum in a shoe store, smearing mashed potatoes on the walls at Hamburger Heaven, or trying to fly, he’s never far from trouble. He’s an almost three-year-old terror who gets away with everything, and Peter’s had it up to… See more details below
- Editorial Reviews
- Product Details
- Related Subjects
- Read an Excerpt
- What People Are Saying
- Meet the author
Life with his little brother, Fudge, makes Peter Hatcher feel like a fourth grade nothing. Whether Fudge is throwing a temper tantrum in a shoe store, smearing mashed potatoes on the walls at Hamburger Heaven, or trying to fly, he’s never far from trouble. He’s an almost three-year-old terror who gets away with everything, and Peter’s had it up to here!
When Fudge walks off with Dribble, Peter’s pet turtle, it’s the last straw. Peter has put up with Fudge for too long. Way too long! How can he get his parents to pay attention to him for a change?
Read an Excerpt
The Big Winner
I won Dribble at Jimmy Fargo's birthday party. All the other guys got to take home goldfish in little plastic bags. I won him because I guessed there were three hundred and forty-eight jelly beans in Mrs. Fargo's jar. Really, there were four hundred and twenty-three, she told us later. Still, my guess was closest. "Peter Warren Hatcher is the big winner!" Mrs. Fargo announced.
At first I felt bad that I didn't get a goldfish too. Then Jimmy handed me a glass bowl. Inside there was some water and three rocks. A tiny green turtle was sleeping on the biggest rock. All the other guys looked at their goldfish. I knew what they were thinking. They wished they could have tiny green turtles too.
I named my turtle Dribble while I was walking home from Jimmy's party. I live at 25 West 68th Street. It's an old apartment building. But it's got one of the best elevators in New York City. There are mirrors all around. You can see yourself from every angle. There's a Soft, cushioned bench to sit on if you're too tired to stand. The elevator operator's name is Henry Bevelheimer. He lets us call him Henry because Bevelheimer's very hard to say.
Our apartment's on the twelfth floor. But I don't have to tell Henry. He already knows. He knows everybody in the building. He's that smart! He even knows I'm nine and in fourth grade.
I showed him Dribble right away. I won him at a birthday party," I said.
Henry smiled. "Your mother's going to be surprised."
Henry was right. My mother was really surprised. Her mouth opened when I said, "Just look at what I won at Jimmy Fargo's birthday party." I held up my tiny greenturtle. "I've already named him . . . Dribble! Isn't that a great name for a turtle?"
My mother made a face. "I don't like the way he smells," she said.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I put my nose right down close to him. I didn't smell anything but turtle. So Dribble smells like turtle, I thought. Well, he's supposed to. That's what he is!
"And I'm not going to take care of him either," my mother added.
"Of course you're not," I told her. "He's my turtle. And I'm the one who's going to take care of him."
"You're going to change his water and clean out his bowl and feed him and all of that?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "And even more. I'm going to see to it that he's happy!"
This time my mother made a funny noise. Like a groan.
I went into. my bedroom. I put Dribble on top of my dresser. I tried to pet him and tell him he would be happy living with me. But it isn't easy to pet a turtle. They aren't soft and furry and they don't lick you or anything. Still, I had my very own pet at last.
Later, when I sat down at the dinner table, my mother said, "I smell turtle. Peter, go and scrub your hands!"
Some people might think that my mother is my biggest problem. She doesn't like turtles and she's always telling me to scrub my hands. That doesn't mean just run them under the water. Scrub means I'm supposed to use soap and rub my hands together. Then I've got to rinse and dry them. I ought to know by now. I've heard it enough!
But my mother isn't my biggest problem. Neither is my father. He spends a lot of time watching commercials on TV. That's because he's in the advertising business. These days his favorite commercial is the one about Juicy-O. He wrote it himself. And the president of -the Juicy-O company liked it so much he sent my father a whole crate of Juicy-O for our family to drink. It tastes like a combination of oranges, pineapples, grapefruits, pears, and bananas. (And if you want to know the truth, I'm getting pretty sick of drinking it.) But Juicy-O isn't my biggest problem either.
My biggest problem is my brother, Farley Drexel Hatcher. He's two-and-a-half years old. Everybody calls him Fudge. I feel sorry for him if he's going to grow up with a name like Fudge, but I don't say a word. It's none of my business.
Fudge is always in my way. He messes up everything he sees. And when he gets mad he throws himself flat on the floor and he screams. And he kicks. And he bangs his fists. The only time I really like him is when he's sleeping. He sucks four fingers on his left hand and makes a slurping noise.
When Fudge saw Dribble he said, "Ohhhhh see!"
And I said, "That's my turtle, get it? Mine! You don't touch him."
Fudge said, "No touch." Then he laughed like crazy.
From the Audio Cassette (Unabridged) edition.
What People are saying about this
Meet the Author
Judy Blume spent her childhood in Elizabeth, NJ, making up stories inside her head. She has spent her adult years in many places, doing the same thing, only now she writes her stories down on paper. Adults as well as children will recognize such Blume titles as: Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret; Superfudge; Blubber; Just As Long As We’re Together; and Forever. She has also written the best-selling novels Wifey; Smart Women; and, Summer Sisters. More than 75 million copies of her books have been sold, and her work has been translated into twenty-six languages.
She receives thousands of letters each month from readers of all ages who share their feelings and concerns with her.
Judy received a B.S. in education from New York University in 1961, which named her a Distinguished Alumna in 1996, the same year that American Library Association honored her with the Margaret A. Edwards Award for Lifetime Achievement. She has won more than ninety awards, none more important than those coming directly from her youngest readers.
She serves on the boards of the Author’s Guild, currently as Vice President; the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, where she sponsors an award for contemporary fiction; and the National Coalition Against Censorship, working to protect intellectual freedom. In Spring 2002, Judy was a spokesperson for the Cheerios "A Book for Every Child" literacy campaign which benefited Reading is Fundamental, America’s largest literacy organization. She is also the founder and trustee of The Kids Fund, a charitable and educational foundation.
Judy’s first book in the Fudge series, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, was published in 1972. She is thrilled to be celebrating its 30th Anniversary with the publication of Double Fudge. Just as generations of fans have loved the Fudge books, generations of Judy’s family have inspired them. Thirty years ago, Fudge was inspired by her son, Larry, and now Double Fudge was written at the request of her grandson, Elliot.
Judy lives on islands up and down the East Coast with her husband George Cooper. They have three grown children and one grandchild.
- New York's Upper East Side, Key West, and Martha's Vineyard
- Date of Birth:
- February 12, 1938
- Place of Birth:
- Elizabeth, New Jersey
- B.S. in education, New York University, 1961
and post it to your social network
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
See all customer reviews >