Tiddlywinks, tiddlywinks, I want to play tiddlywinks,” chanted Ramona, shaking her head back and forth.

Halfway to the house Stan stopped and turned to Jane. He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her toward him.”I’m glad we’re going steady,” he whispered.”So am I.”In spite of the reassuring weight...

The humiliation that Jane had felt turned to something else–grief perhaps, or regret. Regret that she had not known how to act with a boy, regret that she had not been wiser.

I guess that’s what growing up is. Saying good-by to a lot of things. Sometimes it is easy and sometimes it isn’t. But it is all right.

Once more Jane sat staring at the telephone. This time she was filled with a confidence that was new to her. Stan Crandall. Stanley Crandall. He liked her! He had seen her once, and even...

If she can’t spell, why is she a librarian? Librarians should know how to spell.

I had a very wise mother. She always kept books that were my grade level in our house.