Betsy returned to her chair, took off her coat and hat, opened her book and forgot the world again.
Maud Hart LovelaceMots clés imagination libraries reading books library escape
Well, Betsy," he said, "your mother tells me that you are going to use Uncle Keith's trunk for a desk. That's fine. You need a desk. I've often noticed how much you like to write. The way you eat up those advertising tablets from the store! I never saw anything like it. I can't understand it though. I never write anything but checks myself. "
"Bob!" said Mrs. Ray. "You wrote the most wonderful letters to me before we were married. I still have them, a big bundle of them. Every time I clean house I read them over and cry."
"Cry, eh?" said Mr. Ray, grinning. "In spite of what your mother says, Betsy, if you have any talent for writing, it comes from family. Her brother Keith was mighty talented, and maybe you are too. Maybe you're going to be a writer."
Betsy was silent, agreeably abashed.
"But if you're going to be a writer," he went on, "you've got to read. Good books. Great books. The classics.
Mots clés writing classics mothers writer fathers author great-books encouragment
Betsy was so full of joy that she had to be alone. She went upstairs to her bedroom and sat down on Uncle Keith's trunk. Behind Tacy's house the sun had set. A wind had sprung up and the trees, their color dimmed, moved under a brooding sky. All the stories she had told Tacy and Tib seemed to be dancing in those trees, along with all the stories she planned to write some day and all the stories she would read at the library. Good stories. Great stories. The classics. Not Rena's novels.
Maud Hart LovelaceMots clés future hope emotion classics aspirations writer author great-books
Carney was hatless and gloveless, wearing her pink linen. Sam looked at her more than once.
“its just because he likes pink,” she told herself.
Mots clés caneys-house-party maud-hart-lovelace
Sam!” cried Carney. “I’m afraid I lost the flashlight, but…”
That was all she said for Sam took her in his arms. Holding her tightly he kissed her muddy face, not once but several times.
Mots clés maud-hart-lovelace carneys-house-party
Was life always like that? she wondered. A game of hide and seek in which you only occasionally found the person you wanted to be?
Maud Hart LovelaceMots clés life
Betsy. The great war is on but I hope ours is over. Please come home. Joe.
Maud Hart LovelaceMots clés love war reconciliation
What would life be like without her writing? Writing filled her life with beauty and mystery, gave it life...and promise.
Maud Hart LovelaceDo you girls have hope chests?' Lloyd asked.
We certainly do.'
I don't,' said Betsy. 'My husband and I are going to use paper plates and napkins.'
Poor Joe!'
Lucky Larry!
Mots clés the-domestic-arts
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That's the way you have to be with boys," said Betsy. "Beam about their old football when you're dying to know whether they're going to take you to a party.
Maud Hart LovelaceMots clés humor
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