Quimby carrying her bag. “Can’t Mother

walk?” she whispered.

“Of course she can walk,” answered

Beezus. “The hospital wants to make sure

people get out without falling down and

suing for a million dollars.”

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Mrs. Quimby waved to the girls. Roberta’s face was hidden by a corner of a pink blanket, but the nurse had no time for a little girl eager to see a new baby. She pushed the

wheelchair through the automatic door to

the waiting car.

“Now can I see her?” begged Ramona when her mother and Roberta were settled

in the front, and the girls had climbed into the backseat.

“Dear Heart, of course you may.” Mrs.

Quimby then spoke the most beautiful words Ramona had ever heard,“Oh, Ramona, how

I’ve missed you,” as she turned back the

blanket.

Ramona, leaning over the front seat for

her first glimpse of the new baby sister, tried to hold her breath so she wouldn’t breathe germs on Roberta, who did not look at all

like the picture on the cover of A Name for Your Baby. Her face was bright pink, almost 186

red, and her hair, unlike the smooth pale hair of the baby on the cover of the pamphlet, was dark and wild. Ramona did not know what

to say. She did not feel that words like darling or adorable fitted this baby.

“She looks exactly like you looked when

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you were born,” Mrs. Quimby told Ramona.

“She does?” Ramona found this hard to

believe. She could not imagine that she had once looked like this red, frowning little creature.

“Well, what do you think of your new

sister?” asked Mr. Quimby.

“She’s so—so little,” Ramona answered truthfully.

Roberta opened her blue gray eyes.

“Mother!” cried Ramona. “She’s cross-

eyed.”

Mrs. Quimby laughed. “All babies look

cross-eyed sometimes.They outgrow it when

they learn to focus.” Sure enough, Roberta’s eyes straightened out for a moment and then crossed again. She worked her mouth as if she didn’t know what to do with it. She made

little snuffling noises and lifted one arm as if she didn’t know what it was for.

“Why does her nightie have those little

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pockets at the ends of the sleeves?” asked Ramona. “They cover up her hands.”

“They keep her from scratching herself,”

explained Mrs. Quimby. “She’s too little to understand that fingernails scratch.”

Ramona sat back and buckled her seat belt.

She had once looked like Roberta. Amazing!

She had once been that tiny, but she had

grown, her hair had calmed down when she

remembered to comb it, and she had learned to use her eyes and hands. “You know what

I think?” she asked and did not wait for an answer.“I think it is hard work to be a baby.”

Ramona spoke as if she had discovered something unknown to the rest of the world.

With her words came unexpected love and