Beezus and Ramona by Beverly Cleary Page B

there any mail today?”

    Ramona looked crestfallen. “I was very bad,” she persisted. “I was awful.”
    Father sat down and picked up the evening paper.
    â€œI hid from Beezus and I bit lots and lots of apples,” Ramona went on insistently.
    â€œMmm,” remarked Father from behind the paper. “I see they’re going to raise bus fares again.”
    â€œLots and lots of apples,” repeated Ramona in a loud voice.
    â€œThey raised bus fares last year,” Father went on, winking at Beezus from behind the paper. “The public isn’t going to stand for this.”
    Ramona looked puzzled and then disappointed, but she did not say anything.
    Father dropped his paper. “Something certainly smells good,” he said. “It smells like applesauce. I hope so. There’s nothing I like better than a big dish of applesauce for dessert.”
    Because Mother had been so busy making applesauce, dinner was a little late that night. At the table Ramona was unusually well behaved. She did not interrupt and she did not try to share her carrots, the way sheusually did because she did not like carrots.
    As Beezus cleared the table and Mother served dessert—which was fig Newtons and, of course, applesauce—Ramona’s good behavior continued. Beezus found she was not very hungry for applesauce, but the rest of the family appeared to enjoy it. After Beezus had wiped the dishes for Mother she sat down to embroider her pot holders. She had decided to give Aunt Beatrice the pot holder with the dancing knife and fork on it instead of the one with the laughing teakettle.
    Ramona approached her with Big Steve the Steam Shovel in her hand. “Beezus, will you read to me?” she asked.
    She thinks I’ll say no and then she can make a fuss, thought Beezus. Well, I won’t give her a chance. “All right,” she said, putting down her pot holder and taking the book, while Ramona climbed into the chair beside her.
    â€œBig Steve was a steam shovel. He was the biggest steam shovel in the whole city,” Beezus read. “‘Gr-r-r,’ growled Big Steve when he moved the earth to make way for the new highway.”
    Father dropped his newspaper and looked at his two daughters sitting side by side. “I wonder,” he said, “exactly how long this is going to last.”

    â€œJust enjoy it while it does,” said Mother, who was basting patches on the knees of a pair of Ramona’s overalls.
    â€œGr-r-r,” growled Ramona. “Gr-r-r.”
    Beezus also wondered just how long this would go on. She didn’t enjoy growling like a steam shovel and she felt that perhaps Ramona was getting her own way after all. I’m trying to like her like I’m supposed to, anyhow, Beezus thought, and I do like her more than I did this afternoon when I found her in the basement. But what on earth will Mother ever do with all that applesauce?

5
A Party at
the Quimbys’
    S aturday morning turned out to be cold and rainy. Beezus wiped the breakfast dishes for her mother and listened to Ramona, who was riding her tricycle around the house, singing, “Copycat, cappycot, copycat, cappycot,” over and over at the top of her voice, because she liked the sound of the words.
    Beezus and her mother finished thedishes and went into the bedroom to put clean sheets on the beds. “Copycat, cappycot,” droned Ramona’s singsong.
    â€œRamona, why don’t you sing something else?” Mother asked at last. “We’ve been listening to that for a long time.”
    â€œO.K.,” agreed Ramona. “I’m going to have a par-tee,” she sang. “I’m going to have a par-tee.”
    â€œThank you, Ramona. That’s better.” Mother held one end of a pillow under her chin while she slipped the other end into a fresh case. “You know, that reminds me,” she said to Beezus. “What would you like