Beezus and Ramona Read Free

what Father did? “He works for Pacific Gas and Electric Company,” Beezus told the librarian.
    Miss Greever wrote this down on the card and shoved it across the desk to Ramona. “Write your name on this line,” she directed.
    Nothing daunted, Ramona grasped the pencil in her fist and began to write. She bore down so hard that the tip snapped off the lead, but she wrote on. When she laid down the pencil, Beezus picked up the card to see what she had written. The line on the card was filled with

    â€œThat’s my name,” said Ramona proudly.
    â€œThat’s just scribbling,” Beezus told her.
    â€œIt is too my name,” insisted Ramona,while Miss Greever quietly dropped the card into the wastebasket. “I’ve watched you write and I know how.”

    â€œHere, Ramona, you can hold my card.” Beezus tried to be comforting. “You can pretend it’s yours.”
    Ramona brightened at this, and Miss Greever checked out the books on Beezus’s card. As soon as they got home, Ramona demanded, “Read my new book to me.”
    And so Beezus began. “Big Steve was a steam shovel. He was the biggest steam shovel in the whole city….” When she finished the book she had to admit she liked Big Steve better than Scoopy. His only sound effects were tooting and growling. He tooted and growled in big letters on every page. Big Steve did not shed tears or want to be a pile driver. He worked hard at being a steam shovel, and by the end of the book Beezus had learned a lot about steam shovels. Unfortunately, she did not want to learn about steam shovels. Oh, well, she guessed she could stand two weeks of Big Steve.
    â€œRead it again,” said Ramona enthusiastically. “I like Big Steve. He’s better than Scoopy.”
    â€œHow would you like me to show you how to really write your name?” Beezus asked, hoping to divert Ramona from steam shovels.
    â€œO.K.,” agreed Ramona.
    Beezus found pencil and paper and wrote Ramona in large, careful letters across the top of the paper.
    Ramona studied it critically. “I don’t like it,” she said at last.
    â€œBut that’s the way your name is spelled,” Beezus explained.
    â€œYou didn’t make dots and lines,” said Ramona. Seizing the pencil, she wrote,

    â€œBut, Ramona, you don’t understand.” Beezus took the pencil and wrote her own name on the paper. “You’ve seen me write Beatrice , which has an i and a t in it. See, likethat. You don’t have an i or a t in your name, because it isn’t spelled that way.”
    Ramona looked skeptical. She grabbed the pencil again and wrote with a flourish,

    â€œThat’s my name, because I like it,” she announced. “I like to make dots and lines.” Lying flat on her stomach on the floor she proceeded to fill the paper with i ’s and t ’s.
    â€œBut, Ramona, nobody’s name is spelled with just…” Beezus stopped. What was the use? Trying to explain spelling and writing to Ramona was too complicated. Everything became difficult when Ramona was around, even an easy thing like taking a book out of the library. Well, if Ramona was happy thinking her name was spelled with i ’s and t ’s, she could go ahead and think it.
    The next two weeks were fairly peaceful.Mother and Father soon tired of tooting and growling and, like Beezus, they looked forward to the day Big Steve was due at the library. Father even tried to hide the book behind the radio, but Ramona soon found it. Beezus was happy that one part of her plan had worked—Ramona had forgotten The Littlest Steam Shovel now that she had a better book. On Ramona’s second trip to the library, perhaps Miss Evans could find a book that would make her forget steam shovels entirely.
    As for Ramona, she was perfectly happy. She had three people to read aloud a book she liked, and she spent much of her time covering