"I am the littlest Billy Goat Gruff," explained Ramona. "I have to trip-trap."
"You may trip-trap when we go outdoors." Miss Binney's voice was firm. "You may
not trip-trap in the classroom."
At playtime the whole class turned into Billy Goats Gruff and trip-trapped around the playground, but none so joyously or so noisily as Ramona. The gathering clouds, Ramona noticed, were dark and threatening.
Sure enough, that evening rain began to fall, and all night long it beat against the south side of the Quimby's house. The next morning Ramona, in her boots and raincoat, was out long before Howie arrived to walk to school with her. She waded through the wet lawn, and her boots became even shinier when they were wet. She stamped in all the little puddles on the driveway. She stood in the gutter and let muddy water run over the toes of her beautiful new boots. She gathered wet leaves to dam the gutters so she could stand in deeper water.......
