Betsy's mother hoped that whoever moved into the house across the street would have a little girl just Betsy's age. That was what Betsy hoped, too. And the little girl who moved in was just Betsy's age. Her name was Tacy. After a while it was difficult to think of a time when Betsy and Tacy had not been friends.

They had wonderful times together: As soon as the weather was warm enough they ate their suppers on the hill (on their very own bench); they made a playhouse from a piano box; they went together on their first day of school and sat in the very same seat; they rode in the milkman's wagon; they had a paper doll family; they dyed Easter eggs; and they played their favorite game—dressing up—all of the things that little girls love to do.

Tacy was very bashful but Betsy was not. She made up stories—wonderful stories which the little girls loved and which they kept as their own especial secrets. Then they met Tib, who came to share their stories with them.

The illustrations by Lois Lenski ideally supplement the text. Together the story and the pictures exemplify the whole spirit of childhood.

From the dust jacket