Julia was as happy as Betsy was, almost. One nice thing about Julia was that she rejoiced in other people’s luck.

All that kneeling down and getting up, kneeling down and getting up! But I can stand it if you can,” Mr. Ray grumbled to his wife.

Betsy dreamed about going away from Deep Valley, but she didn’t for a moment suspect that around a bend in her Winding Hall of Fate a journey was actually waiting.

You don’t grow up, she reasoned now, until you begin to evaluate yourself, to recognize your good traits and acknowledge that you have a few faults.

There was nothing like a picnic! she reflected. If you were happy, it made you happier. If you were unhappy, it blew your troubles away.

We’ll just have to find more flowers in the spring. That’s when they bloom, tra la.

Thoughts are such fleet magic things. Betsy’s thoughts swept a wide arc while Uncle Keith read her poem aloud. She thought of Julia learning to sing with Mrs. Poppy. She thought of Tib learning to dance. She thought of herself and Tacy and Tib going into their ’teens. She even thought of Tom and Herbert and of how, by and by, they would be carrying her books and Tacy’s and Tib’s up the hill from high school.

They always ate and made tea on the alcohol lamp before going to bed. This was quite in the German tradition, Tilda said. Germans in their homes ate six meals a day: breakfast, second breakfast, dinner, afternoon coffee, supper and in the evening tea or beer with sandwiches and kuchen. Betsy, in the cherry-red bathrobe, and Tilda in a blue one, feasted merrily.

How does a girl act with boys, exactly?” Tacy asked. “Oh,” said Betsy airily, “you just curl your hair and use a lot of perfume and act plagued when they tease you.

Joe Willard turned from his study of the trees beyond the window and raised his hand. ‘Yes, Joe?’ Mr. Gaston said, changing his tone. ‘It is my opinion sir, that apple blossoms are pink.’ Mr. Gaston was silent, stunned. ‘Pinkish, rather.’ Joe continued. ‘I think Betsy’s word ‘rosy’ is excellent. They’re colored just enough to make the effect rosy.′ The silence in the room had width, height, depth, mass and substance.