Anna on the Farm by Mary Downing Hahn, Diane de Groat Page B

people to say she's pale and thin, she's too happy about going to the farm to be cross with her mother and her aunt. After all, it's not the first time someone has mentioned these things. She gives Father one more hug and then runs to give Mother a quick kiss.
    "I promise to be good," she tells Mother. "I won't go near the cows, and I'll be careful not to step on rusty-nails or ruin my looks with freckles. And I'll eat lots of food and get big and fat like Rosa!"
    "At least Anna can't skate at the farm," Aunt May says, reminding Mother of the day Anna skated down Bentalou Street, fell, and split her chin open.
    "Why ever not?" Anna asks.
    "No sidewalks in the country,
mein kleiner Zuckerwürfel,
" Aunt May says. "No paved streets. Just dirt roads."
    "Don't worry," Father says. "You'll find plenty of other things to do, Anna."
    "That's just what worries me," says Mother. "Anna has too many notions in her head as it is. Without me to keep an eye on her, there's no telling what she'll think of."
    Aunt May laughs. "Don't be silly, Lizzie. Anna has no more notions than any other healthy child."
    Anna turns her head to hide a smile. Mother is right. Anna has many notions. But she has promised to be good and, even though it won't be easy, she will try to keep her word.
    "When do I go to the farm?" she asks Father. "When? When?"
    "Can you wait until after church tomorrow?" Father asks.
    Mother gasps. "That soon?"
    But Anna dances around the kitchen. "Hooray!" she shouts. "Hooray!"
    "It has to be this week, Lizzie," Father tells Mother. "George begins harvesting the wheat next week."
    "But I have to wash Anna's clothes, iron her dresses, darn her stockings—"
    "Anna's going to the country, Lizzie," Aunt May says. "She doesn't need fancy clothing."
    Mother frowns, but Father gives her a kiss. "May is right, Lizzie. Anna can wear her play clothes."
    While Mother and Father talk, Anna runs to the parlor and peers out the front window. She's looking for Rosa and Beatrice, but she doesn't see them. Too bad. She can hardly wait to tell them that she, Anna, is going somewhere, after all.

TWO
Bears, Wolves and Snakes
    A FTER SUPPER, A NNA GOES OUTSIDE. C HARLIE IS sitting on his front steps, fanning his face with a comic book. Anna skips across the street to tell him her news.
    "Guess what? Guess what?" Too excited to stand still, Anna hops back and forth from one foot to the other, waiting for Charlie to guess.
    "What?" Charlie stares at her, his face puzzled. Behind him, his mother rocks a baby in her arms, trying to hush its cries. His little brothers race up and down the stairs. His older sister runs after them, begging them to hush before Papa gets cross and spanks them.
    "I'm going to my Uncle George's farm tomorrow!" Anna cries. "I get to ride the train all by myself and stay for a whole week! I can wade in the pond and play in the barn, I can—"
    Charlie fans his face harder. "Lucky you," he mutters.
    Anna stops hopping and draws in her breath. Oh, no. Without meaning to, she's made Charlie feel just as bad as she felt when Rosa and Beatrice bragged about the ocean and the mountains. "I wish you were going, too," she tells him quickly. "It won't be any fun without you."
    Charlie frowns and kicks a stone. He and Anna watch it bounce down the hill toward North Avenue. "Who wants to go to a dumb old farm?"
    "I'll miss you, Charlie," Anna says.
    Charlie doesn't answer. Instead, he sends another stone flying after the first one. It lands at the feet of the lamplighter, but he's too busy lighting the gas street-lamps to notice.
    "At night it will be dark in the country," Charlie says. "Pitch-dark. No streetlights. There might be wild animals—bears and wolves. Poisonous snakes, too. Copperheads, water moccasins, rattlers."
    Anna's heart beats a little faster. "I won't be scared," she says, "if that's what you're thinking."
    "Your father won't be there to protect you," Charlie goes on. "You'll miss him and your mother so much I bet you'll