Anna All Year Round by Mary Downing Hahn, Diane de Groat Page B

Anna's ears with her hands. "Such language," she says. "For shame to speak so in public where ladies and innocent children can hear."
    "It's the way of world," Uncle Henry says with a shrug.
    Charlie laughs but Anna isn't listening. She's just spotted Father waiting for the outbound trolley. "Stop, Uncle Henry, stop!" she cries. "There's Father! Let's give him a ride, too!"
    Uncle Henry pulls up beside Father. "Hop in, Ira."
    "Sit in front with me," Anna says, but there isn't enough room for Father to squeeze in between Charlie and Fritzi.
    "Please, Ira," Mother pleads, "Sit back here with me."
    "Yes," Aunt May says. "Poor Lizzie needs you to protect her, Ira. She's convinced Henry will kill us all."
    Father laughs and gets into the back seat. "Hold my hand, Lizzie," he says. "And enjoy yourself."
    Uncle Henry steps on the gas and toots the horn. Fritzi barks. Charlie asks more questions. Mother says another prayer.
    Anna smiles at Father. Riding in the limousine is even more fun than she thought it would be.

9. Great Aunt Emma Moree and the Burglar
    ANNA'S GREAT AUNT EMMA MOREE IS A WIDOW who lives all by herself in a tiny house on McCullough Street. She's small and thin, hardly bigger than Anna herself. Her black dresses have stiff lace collars that come up to her chin. Her long skirts sweep the floor. Her hats are decorated with plumes plucked from birds that lived long ago. Her hairstyle is many years out of fashion, but Anna loves the perfect little spit curls on her aunt's forehead.
    Father says Great Aunt Emma is an anachronism. When Anna asks what that means, he says she is out of step with the times. He doesn't mean it as a criticism. He loves his tiny little aunt as much as Anna does.
    Today, Aunt Emma is visiting Anna. Father is at work and Mother has gone shopping with Aunt May. Anna is playing with her doll in the front parlor and Aunt Emma is sitting nearby, reading her Bible. Suddenly they hear a loud bang on the second floor.
    "What was that?" Anna moves closer to her aunt. They both stare at the ceiling.
    "I don't know," Aunt Emma says. She puts her arm around Anna. "Maybe it's the wind."
    Anna and Aunt Emma stare at each other. Anna knows it's not the wind. "It sounds like someone is upstairs," she whispers. "Could it be a burglar?"
    "How would a burglar get in?" Aunt Emma asks.
    "He could stand on top of the fence and pull himself up to the bedroom window," Anna says. She's heard Mother worry about this very thing. In fact, it happened to Mrs. Stein not too long ago. The burglar climbed through the back window and stole poor Mrs. Stein's jewelry, every bit of it, even the fake jewels.
    Aunt Emma's face tightens into a scowl. "No burglar will get the best of me," she says fiercely. "No-sirree-bob!"

    To Anna's surprise, her tiny aunt gets to her feet and picks up the poker Father keeps on the hearth. Gripping it tightly, she goes to the foot of the stairs. As loudly as she can, she calls, "Whoever is up there had better come down before I give you what for, you rascal!"
    Anna clings to her aunt's arm. They wait for someone to come down the steps. No one does. Nor do they hear any more bangs.
    "I think you scared him away," Anna says. She's very proud of her aunt.
    "I believe you're right," says Aunt Emma. Looking pleased with herself, she returns to the living room and sits down in her chair. Anna notices she keeps the poker beside her—just in case.
    When Mother comes home, Anna tells her what happened. "Great Aunt Emma chased a burglar away. He came in through the back bedroom window, but he was too scared to come down and face us."
    Anna's mother sits down in a chair, her face pale. "Did you go up there to make sure he's really gone?"
    Anna shakes her head and Aunt Emma flourishes the poker again. "I tell you I scared him away!" she says.
    "Suppose he's still here?" Mother asks. "He might be hiding under a bed, waiting to kill us in our sleep!"
    "Just let him try," cries Aunt Emma, waving the poker