Betsy Roberts


Book Description




Betsy-Tacy Treasury


Book Description

The first four books in the beloved Betsy-Tacy series are ready to delight a new generation ofreaders—and to bring a grownup generation of readers back to the engrossingstories of their youth. Following the childhoods of Betsy Ray and her friendsin the late 1800s and early 1900s, this handsome anthology collects theoriginal Betsy-Tacy as well as Betsy, Tacy and Tib, Betsy and Tacy Go Over the Big Hill, and Betsy and Tacy Go Downtown. Forewords by Judy Blume,Esther Hautzig, and Johanna Hurwitz, andillustrations by Lois Lenski, will make readers ofall ages feel at home in the imaginative life of young Betsy Ray as she awakensto the challenges and triumphs of her home in quaint Mankato, Minnesota.




Betsy-Tacy and Tib


Book Description

Three of a Kind Betsy and Tacy are best friends. Then Tib moves into the neighborhood and the three of them start to play together. The grown-ups think they will quarrel, but they don't. Sometimes they quarrel with Betsy's and Tacy's bossy big sisters, but they never quarrel among themselves. They are not as good as they might be. They cook up awful messes in the kitchen, throw mud on each other and pretend to be beggars, and cut off each other's hair. But Betsy, Tacy, and Tib always manage to have a good time. Ever since their first publication in the 1940s, the Betsy-Tacy stories have been loved by each generation of young readers.




Betsy-Tacy


Book Description

Best Friends Forever There are lots of children on Hill Street, but no little girls Betsy's age. So when a new family moves into the house across the street, Betsy hopes they will have a little girl she can play with. Sure enough, they do—a little girl named Tacy. And from the moment they meet at Betsy's fifth birthday party, Betsy and Tacy becoms such good friends that everyone starts to think of them as one person—Betsy-Tacy. Betsy and Tacy have lots of fun together. They make a playhouse from a piano box, have a sand store, and dress up and go calling. And one day, they come home to a wonderful surprise—a new friend named Tib. Ever since their first publication in the 1940's, the Betsy-Tacy stories have been loved by each generation of young readers.




Betsy's Return


Book Description

Relive the glory of a Pennsylvania canal town through the eyes of those who ministered to the needs of the workers. Betsy Nelson reluctantly returns to her childhood home to care for her failing father, a faithful minister who served the town for years. William Covington, a confirmed bachelor, comes to town to become the new pastor and set aside the luxuries of this birth for service to God. Can Betsy and William find common ground on which to work together for the better of the townspeople?




The Elementary School Library Collection


Book Description

A primary source for the continuous development, evaluation, and maintenance of existing collections. Includes books, big books, large type books, periodicals, art and study prints, pictures, sound filmstrips, sound recording discs and cassettes, compact discs, multimedia kits, videocassettes, microcomputer software, videodiscs, and CD-ROM products.




Publication


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Portrait of Betsy


Book Description

She wasnt a dog anyone wanted. Bald from the nape of her neck to the tip of her tail, she was a scrawny little black dog with little to recommend herself to anyone other than the little tricks she used to perform to amuse people. A loser dog. But then, I wasnt a person anyone wanted either. A loser in the eyes of the world. A neer do well named Jamie Fairchild, who, at the age of forty-one, had tried his luck in many places and invariably had failed. For twenty years, I had become a stranger even to the members of my own immediate family. I didnt want a dog. I wasnt even looking for one. But God has a way of intervening, regardless of our hopes, dreams, and personal wills, not necessarily giving one what one wants but what one needs. Th ey tole me you needed me, Betsy told me. Who told you? My superior offi cers, she smiled, elevating her chin toward heaven. Th ings hasnt been goin so well with ya these past twenty years. I hear tell ya had big dreams once, but you went bust, was homeless jes like me fer awhiles. I also hear tell them folks of yourn aint much of a family. But then, mine twerent neither. I hears ya likes adventure, aint afeerd of takin risks. I aint either. I also hear tell ya likes to perform. I does too. But ya lost your confi dence along the way. Well, Im here to give it back to ya. Before long, Betsy was putting me through my paces. Ah-ten-tion! shed bark at me. Th ats what our C.O. always barked at the fellas I worked with in New Guinea. Saunders was his name. Man, he was a doll, but he could also be one mean sonofabitch, let me tell ya. When Saunders barked them orders, them guys all shot up straight as ramrods. Shoulders up, ass in, chest out. Now, lissen up, Pop. Ah-ten-tion! Git that chin up! What goods it doin hangin down thataways on your collarbone? Well, no one would be able to cuff me under it if its hanging down. Lissen, Pop, she would say. No ones gonna cuff you under the chin. And if they does, Ill take care of em so good, they wont need to wear no shoes! No one messes with a Marine. Not if they know whats good for em. Now lissen up! Chin up! Shoulders back! Ass in! Awkward as these unaccustomed positions felt to me, I complied with her commands. Yeah, her muzzle widened into a grin. Th ats more like it, Daddy. If Betsy had set me onto the road of physical exercise, she also corrected my posture. If it hadnt been for the disciplines that she imposed upon me, Id now be a walking question mark. Why are ya walkin with your shoulders down on your chest? shed bark. You wanna be a hunchback one day? No, I said. Th en stand straight and stop hangin your head, she said. How are ya ever goin to see where youre a-goin lookin down at the ground all the time? You look at the ground when you sniff , Id say. Yeah, but thats only to get the smell of direction. Its in the dog world what you call a map in the human one. But ya caint go nowheres by always lookin at the map. Time comes when youve gotta keep your eye on the road. Th is was the army now, and I had become Private Jamie to Sergeant Betsy. When I would slump down into that easy chair, one of whose armrests she had completely disemboweled, and had sunk into those pointless ruminations about what I should or should not have done so many years before, Betsy would approach my feet and deposit at them the tug o war rope, fall back on her rear haunches, her big brown eyes shining with excited anticipation, her muzzle dropped open in an eager smile. Come on, Dad, lets play. Oh, please, not now, Betsy, Id say. Oh yes, now, she insisted. Come on. What goods settin there goin over things you caint do nuthin bout? When you does stuff like this, youre like me when a fl ea gets on my tail and I keep tryin to bite it off of it, but the more I turns around, that tail jes keep gittin further away from me. Memories is like fl eas, Dad. You chew on em too long, they gets your tail sore. Ya gotta keep your eye on your star. Th eres one up yonder thats yourn and yourn alone. Keep your eye on it, and it wont be forgettin ya. You jes take a hold on my tail, Pop, and Ill take ya to your highest dreams.