Beezus and Ramona Read Free Page A

sheets of paper with i ’s and t ’s. Sometimes she wrote in pencil, sometimes she wrote in crayon, and once she wrote in ink until her mother caught her at it.
    Finally, to the relief of the rest of the family, the day came when Big Steve had tobe returned. “Come on, Ramona,” said Beezus. “It’s time to go to the library for another book.”
    â€œI have a book,” said Ramona, who was lying on her stomach writing her version of her name on a piece of paper with purple crayon.
    â€œNo, it belongs to the library,” Beezus explained, glad that for once Ramona couldn’t possibly get her own way.
    â€œIt’s my book,” said Ramona, crossing several t ’s with a flourish.
    â€œBeezus is right, dear,” observed Mother.
    â€œRun along and get Big Steve .”
    Ramona looked sulky, but she went into the bedroom. In a few minutes she appeared with Big Steve in her hand and a satisfied expression on her face. “It’s my book,” she announced. “I wrote my name in it.”
    Mother looked alarmed. “What do you mean, Ramona? Let me see.” She took thebook and opened it. Every page in the book was covered with enormous purple i ’s and t ’s in Ramona’s very best handwriting.
    â€œMother!” cried Beezus. “Look what she’s done! And in crayon so it won’t erase.”
    â€œRamona Quimby,” said Mother. “You’re a very naughty girl! Why did you do a thing like that?”
    â€œIt’s my book,” said Ramona stubbornly.
    â€œI like it.”
    â€œMother, what am I going to do?” Beezus demanded. “It’s checked out on my card and I’m responsible. They won’t let me take any more books out of the library, and I won’t have anything to read, and it will all be Ramona’s fault. She’s always spoiling my fun and it isn’t fair!” Beezus didn’t know what she would do without her library card. She couldn’t get along without library books. She just couldn’t, that was all.
    â€œI do not spoil your fun,” stormedRamona. “You have all the fun. I can’t read and it isn’t fair.” Ramona’s words ended in a howl as she buried her face in her mother’s skirt.

    â€œI couldn’t read when I was your age and I didn’t have someone to read to me all thetime, so it is too fair,” argued Beezus. “You always get your own way, because you’re the youngest.”
    â€œI do not!” shouted Ramona. “And you don’t read all the time. You’re mean!”
    â€œI am not mean,” Beezus shouted back.
    â€œChildren!” cried Mother. “Stop it, both of you! Ramona, you were a very naughty girl!” A loud sniff came from Ramona.
    â€œAnd, Beezus,” her mother continued, “the library won’t take your card away from you. If you’ll get my purse I’ll give you some money to pay for the damage to the book. Take Ramona along with you, explain what happened, and the librarian will tell you how much to pay.”
    This made Beezus feel better. Ramona sulked all the way to the library, but when they got there Beezus was pleased to see that Miss Evans, the children’s librarian, was sitting behind the desk. Miss Evans was thekind of librarian who would understand about little sisters.
    â€œHello, Beatrice,” said Miss Evans. “Is this your little sister I’ve heard so much about?”
    Beezus wondered what Miss Evans had heard about Ramona. “Yes, this is Ramona,” she said and went on hesitantly, “and, Miss Evans, she—”
    â€œI’m a bad girl,” interrupted Ramona, smiling winningly at the librarian.
    â€œOh, you are?” said Miss Evans. “What did you do?”
    â€œI wrote in a book,” said Ramona, not the least ashamed. “I wrote in purple crayon and it will never, ever erase. Never, never,