The truth made Ramona uncomfortable.

“Why did Mrs. Rudge phone?” she asked,

to change the subject.

Mrs. Quimby looked concerned. “She

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called to say that she had noticed you twitching your nose a lot—Daddy and I have

noticed it, too—and she wondered if some-

thing was making you nervous. She won-

dered if you perhaps needed a shorter day in school.”

And a longer day with Howie’s grand-

mother? What a terrible idea. “School is

easy,” said Ramona, not mentioning

spelling, which, after all, might be easy if she paid more attention to it.

“Have you any idea what makes you

twitch your nose?” asked Mrs. Quimby

gently. “I noticed you twitch it three times during breakfast.”

Ramona was surprised. Maybe she had

twitched so much she could twitch without

knowing it. “Of course I know why,” she

said.“I was pretending I was a rabbit, a baby rabbit, because you call me a little rabbit

sometimes.”

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This time Ramona did not mind when her mother laughed. She laughed a bit, too,

to show that she now thought pretending

to be a baby rabbit seemed silly, as if it were something she had done a long time ago

when she was little.

“Rabbits are nice,” said Mrs. Quimby,“but

I prefer a little girl. My little girl.”

“Really?” said Ramona, even though she

knew her mother spoke the truth.

“I am glad to know you were a little

rabbit,” said Ramona’s mother. “I was afraid my working full time might be too much for

you, and just when we have decided Daddy

will quit his job at the market and go back

to school.”

Ramona was astonished. “School! You

mean do homework and stuff like that?

Daddy?”

“I expect so,” answered Mrs. Quimby.

“Why does he want to go and do a thing

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like that?” Ramona could not understand.

“To finish college,” her mother explained.

“So he can get a better job, he hopes. One

that he likes.”

So this was what her parents had been talk-

ing about at night in their room. “Will he

have to go away?” asked Ramona.

“No. He can go to Portland State right

here in town,” explained Mrs. Quimby.“But

I will have to go on working full time, which I want to do anyway because I like my job.

Do you think you can manage to get along

with Mrs. Kemp?”

Ramona thought how much happier her

family would be if her father never came

home tired from working in the express line

again. “Of course I can,” she agreed with

courage. “I’ve gotten along—sort of—so far.”

After this she would stay away from pinking

shears and bluing. As for Willa Jean—maybe

she would go to nursery school and learn to

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shape up. Yes, Ramona could manage.“And I guess we’ll have to scrimp and pinch some

more,” she said.

“That’s right. Scrimp and pinch and save