Free Ramona Forever by Beverly Cleary Page B

natural. Stop fussing.” Mr. Quimby looked hurt.
    Uncle Hobart calmed down and looked ashamed. Aunt Bea wiped her eyes on the corner of one of her new bath towels.
    â€œWhy can’t we just pick some flowers?” asked Ramona.
    â€œWhat flowers?” demanded Beezus. “Those buggy pansies in the backyard?”
    â€œNow, now,” said Grandpa Day. “Just a case of pre-wedding jitters. Relax, everybody. I lived in this neighborhood for forty years, and I know how the women enjoy a challenge. Make a few phone calls, and you will have all the flowers you need.”
    Grandpa Day was right. Two neighbors had peonies in bloom, bushels of them; several had bumper crops of roses they would be happy to share. Another had plenty of laurel, which made a nice background and needed pruning anyway.
    When the matter of the flowers was settled, Aunt Bea said with a wicked smile, “I forgot something, too. I forgot to tell you that I had invited all my third graders. They wanted so much to come.”
    Oh, no, thought Ramona. Third graders would gobble up all the food at the weddingreception and run around bumping into people and spilling things. Still, she looked forward to seeing the class she had heard so much about from Aunt Bea.
    â€œGreat!” said Uncle Hobart. “I’ll order champagne for twenty-nine more guests.”
    Ramona was horrified. Twenty-nine third graders sloshing around with champagne.
    â€œHobart!” Mrs. Kemp spoke severely to her youngest son. “Settle down and do be sensible. You can’t serve champagne to children. Order some punch for them.”
    â€œSure, Mom.” Uncle Hobart glanced at his watch. “Speaking of forgetting, let’s not forget the rehearsal.”
    The members of the wedding party whisked their dishes into the kitchen—they would eat Mrs. Kemp’s homemade cheese-cake later—then they climbed into the truck and the Kemps’ car to go to the church. Ramona, Beezus, and Howie squeezed intothe truck with Uncle Hobart and his bride. This was their only chance to ride in it.
    â€œSwell, just swell,” muttered Howie. “Twenty-nine kids laughing at me in girls’ socks carrying a stupid little pillow.”
    â€œThe dresses still haven’t come,” worried Beezus.
    Uncle Hobart was reassuring. “Don’t worry. You girls would look pretty even if you had to walk down the aisle in gym suits.”
    As the truck pulled away from the curb, a car pulled up. A man jumped out with a big box and ran up the Quimbys’ driveway. Ramona glimpsed the word B RIDAL on the box. “Our dresses!” she shrieked.
    â€œWhew, what a relief,” said Beezus. “Now, if they will just fit.”
    â€œUncle Hobart,” said Howie, “you never did say what kind of noise a camel makes.” Ramona wished Howie would forget about camels and pay attention to the wedding.
    Uncle Hobart whinnied like a horse. “How’s that?”
    â€œI’m not sure it’s right,” said Howie.
    Ramona, who was not worried about the fit of her dress—safety pins could take care of that—or the sound of camels, wondered if twenty-nine third graders, now promoted to the fourth grade, would arrive at the wedding with banana stickers on their foreheads and if Algie would stay where he belonged until it was all over. July was coming closer every day.

9
Ramona Saves The Day
    T he day of the wedding!
    The bridesmaids’ dresses were too long. “Pins!” cried Aunt Bea. “Get me some pins!” Algie made kneeling on the floor too difficult for Mrs. Quimby.
    While Aunt Bea pinned up the hems, two for each because the dresses came with matching slips, the girls tried to stand very still, but how could they? The florist haddelivered flowers that they couldn’t wait to see. The girls fidgeted. “Beezus, just baste up the hems,” said Aunt Bea when she had pushed the last pin in