Ramona the Pest Read Online Free PDF

was the only person who felt that way.
    â€œNow Howie, it isn’t as bad as all that,” said his mother.
    â€œIt is too,” said Howie, and Ramona nodded through her tears.
    â€œGive me the ribbon,” said Mrs. Kemp. “Maybe after lunch we’ll all feel better.”
    Reluctantly Howie surrendered the precious ribbon, and said, “I suppose we’re having tuna-fish sandwiches again.”
    â€œHowie, that’s not polite,” said his mother.
    At the Quimbys’ house, Ramona’s mother said, “Why don’t you and Howie play with your tricycle while I prepare lunch?”
    â€œSure, Ramona,” said Howie, as the two mothers boosted Willa Jean’s stroller up the steps, and he and Ramona were left together whether they wanted to be or not. Ramona sat down on the steps and tried to think of a name to call Howie. Pieface wasn’t bad enough. If she used some of the names she had heard big boys use at school, her mother would come out and scold her. Perhaps “little booby boy” would do.
    â€œWhere’s your trike?” asked Howie.
    â€œIn the garage,” answered Ramona. “I don’t ride it anymore now that I’m in kindergarten.”
    â€œHow come?” asked Howie.
    â€œI’m too big,” said Ramona. “Everybody else on the block rides two-wheelers. Only babies ride tricycles.” She made this remark because she knew Howie still rode his tricycle, and she was so angry about the ribbon she wanted to hurt his feelings.
    If Howie’s feelings were hurt, he did not show it. He seemed to be considering Ramona’s remarks in his usual deliberate way. “I could take off one of the wheels if I had some pliers and a screwdriver,” he said at last.
    Ramona was indignant. “And wreck my tricycle?” Howie just wanted to get her into trouble.
    â€œIt wouldn’t wreck it,” said Howie. “I take the wheels off my tricycle all the time. You can ride on the front wheel and one back wheel. That way you’d have a two-wheeler.”
    Ramona was not convinced.
    â€œCome on, Ramona,” coaxed Howie. “I like to take wheels off tricycles.”
    Ramona considered. “If I let you take off a wheel, do I get to keep the ribbon?”
    â€œWell…I guess so.” After all, Howie was a boy. He was more interested in taking a tricycle apart than he was in playing with any ribbon.
    Ramona was doubtful about Howie’s ability to turn her tricycle into a two-wheeler, but she was determined to have Miss Binney’s red ribbon.
    She trundled her tricycle out of the garage. Then she found the pliers and a screwdriver, and handed them to Howie, who went to work in a businesslike way. He used the screwdriver to pry off the hub. With the pliers he straightened the cotter pin that held the wheel in place, removed it from the axle, and pulled off the wheel. Next he returned the cotter pin to its hole in the axle and bent the ends out once more so the axle would stay in place. “There,” he said with satisfaction. For once he looked happy and sure of himself. “You have to sort of lean to one side when you ride it.”

    Ramona was so impressed by Howie’s work that her anger began to drain away. Maybe Howie was right. She grasped hertricycle by the handlebars and mounted the seat. By leaning toward the side on which the wheel had been removed, she managed to balance herself and to ride down the driveway in an uncertain and lopsided fashion. “Hey! It works!” she called out, when she reached the sidewalk. She circled and pedaled back toward Howie, who stoodbeaming at the success of his alteration.
    â€œI told you it would work,” he bragged.
    â€œI didn’t believe you at first,” confessed Ramona, who would never again be seen riding a babyish three-wheeler.
    The back door opened, and Mrs. Quimby called out, “Come on, children. Your tuna sandwiches are