Hattie on Her Way:

Up close she was not so pretty. She had a round, flat face with little piggy eyes and a stuck-up nose, but she had the loveliest yellow curls that bounced when she walked, and bobbed when she moved her head, and boinged when she patted them, which she did pretty regular. "I'm Ivy Victoria — after the Queen of England — Blackmore Vandermeer," she said in a superior, knowing way. "You may be a girl, but I think you should know that you look like a boy. Why is your hair so short?" Right then and there, I knew I wasn't going to like her or her curls. I did not have that nice warm feeling like when I'd met Jasper. "None of your business," I said. . . . "You talk funny, too. Did you know that?" she said. "I talk with my mouth, same as you," I said. "I mean, you sound like a country bumpkin. Do you know what that means?" She spoke slowly, like I was ignorant or something worse. I nodded. Yup, I was pretty sure that was like being called a Hill Hawk and uncouth. I grabbed my hat off the ground and pushed it on my head. She got a sneaky look then. "You might be fun to play games with," she said. "Come over here now." "Can't," I said. I was not about to take orders from the bossy likes of her. "My grandmother is waiting for me." "Please?" she said, in a pleading sort of way. "I'll let you play with my ball." I wet my lips. I wanted to bounce that ball all right. Maybe she just wanted a friend. But then she pressed her face up against the fence. "Why doesn't your grandmother wear black?" she said. A cold chill went down my spine. "Why should she?" I asked.___________________HATTIE ON HER WAY by Clara Gillow Clark. Copyright (c) 2005 by Clara Gillow Clark. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.