as an example under frightening, and his red-penciled comment was “Well!” Beezus

received an A on her paper. Nothing that pleasant ever happened to Ramona, who

spent her days circling sentences in work-

books, changing first letters of words to make different words, and trying to help Davy

when she could, even though he was in a

different reading circle.

Then one afternoon Mrs. Griggs handed

each member of Room One a long sealed

envelope.“These are your progress reports for you to take home to your parents,” she said.

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Ramona made up her mind then and there that she was not going to show any

progress report to her mother and father

if she could get out of it. As soon as she

reached home, she hid her envelope at the

bottom of a drawer under her summer play-

clothes.Then she got out paper and crayons

and went to work on the kitchen table. On

each sheet of paper she drew in black crayon a careful outline of an animal: a mouse on

one sheet, a bear on another, a turtle on a

third. Ramona loved to crayon and crayon-

ing made her troubles fade away. When she

had filled ten pages with outlines of animals, she found her father’s stapler and fastened

the paper together to make a book. Ramona

could make an amazing number of things

with paper, crayons, staples, and Scotch tape.

Bee’s wings to wear on her wrists, a crown

to wear on her head, a paper catcher’s mask

to cover her face.

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“What are you making?” asked her

mother.

“A coloring book,” said Ramona. “You

won’t buy me one.”

“That’s because the art teacher who talked

to the P.T.A. said coloring books were not

creative. She said children needed to be free and creative and draw their own pictures.”

“I am,” said Ramona. “I am drawing a

coloring book. Howie has a coloring book,

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and I want one too.”

“I guess Howie’s mother missed that

meeting.” Mrs. Quimby picked up Ramona’s

coloring book and studied it. “Why,

Ramona,” she said, sounding pleased, “you

must take after your father. You draw

unusually well for a girl your age.”

“I know.” Ramona was not bragging. She

was being honest. She knew her drawing

was better than most of the baby work done

in Room One. So was her printing. She

went to work coloring her turtle green, her

mouse brown. Filling in outlines was not

very interesting, but it was soothing. Ramona was so busy that by dinnertime she had forgotten her hidden progress report.

Ramona forgot until Beezus laid her long

white envelope on the table after the dessert of canned peaches and store macaroons.“Mr.

Cardoza gave us our progress reports,” she

announced.

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Mr. Quimby tore open the envelope and pulled out the yellow sheet of paper.

“M-m-m.Very good, Beezus. I’m proud of

you.”

“What did he say?” Beezus asked. Ramona

could tell that Beezus was eager to have the family hear the nice things Mr. Cardoza had