Ramona Quimby, Age 8
Beverly Cleary
I L L U S T R AT E D B Y
Tracy Dockray
viii
Contents
1. The First Day of School 1
2. At Howie’s House 28
3. The Hard-boiled Egg Fad 45
4. The Quimbys’ Quarrel 64
5. The Extra-good Sunday 81
6. Supernuisance 98
7. The Patient 116
8. Ramona’s Book Report 133
9. Rainy Sunday 150
About the Author
Other Books by Beverly Cleary
Credits
Cover
Copyright
About the Publisher
1
The First Day
of School
Ramona Quimby hoped her parents
would forget to give her a little talking-
to. She did not want anything to spoil this exciting day.
“Ha-ha, I get to ride the bus to school all by myself,” Ramona bragged to her big sister, Beatrice, at breakfast. Her stomach felt quivery with excitement at the day ahead, a day that would begin with a bus ride just the
1
right length to make her feel a long way from home but not long enough—she hoped—
to make her feel carsick. Ramona was going to ride the bus, because changes had been
made in the schools in the Quimbys’ part of the city during the summer. Glenwood, the
girls’ old school, had become an intermediate school, which meant Ramona had to go
to Cedarhurst Primary School.
“Ha-ha yourself.” Beezus was too excited
to be annoyed with her little sister.“Today I start high school.”
“Junior high school,” corrected Ramona, who was not going to let her sister get
away with acting older than she really was.
“Rosemont Junior High School is not the
same as high school, and besides you have to walk.”
Ramona had reached the age of demand-
ing accuracy from everyone, even herself.
All summer, whenever a grown-up asked
2
what grade she was in, she felt as if she were fibbing when she answered, “third,” because she had not actually started the third grade.
Still, she could not say she was in the second grade since she had finished that grade last June. Grown-ups did not understand that
summers were free from grades.
“Ha-ha to both of you,” said Mr. Quimby,
as he carried his breakfast dishes into the kitchen. “You’re not the only ones going to school today.”Yesterday had been his last day working at the checkout counter of the
ShopRite Market. Today he was returning
to college to become what he called “a real, live school teacher.” He was also going to work one day a week in the frozen-food
warehouse of the chain of ShopRite Markets to help the family “squeak by,” as the grown-ups put it, until he finished his schooling.
“Ha-ha to all of you if you don’t hurry
up,” said Mrs. Quimby, as she swished suds in 3
