just like what the British did to the Americans — one of those Bad Laws they called the In-tol-er-able Acts. Dad was closing down the tub just like the Big Meanies closed down the harbor after the real Tea Party!
Judy felt like stamping her feet (the Stamp Act). She felt like throwing sugar packets (the Sugar Act). She felt like declaring independence
on the wall
(in permanent marker)!
But just like all the Bad Laws in the world did not stop the Patriots, the Clean-the-Bathroom-Again Law and No-Friends-for-One-Week Law would not stop her. And they would not, could not, put her in a nark. They were just bumps in the road on the Judy Moody March to Freedom.
She, Judy Moody, would live by a Not-Bad Law, the Law of the Sugar Packet:
If at
f
irst you don’t succeed, try, try again.
When Judy got out of bed on Monday morning, she did not stamp one foot. She did not throw one sugar packet. Instead, she quietly-and-to-herself declared independence from brushing her teeth and taking a shower. She did not want to mess up the bathroom again. EVER.
Her makeup book report from when she was in Boston was due today. A makeup book report was NOT going to put her in a bad mood. Even if she had waited till the last minute. Judy decided right then and there to make this her best-ever book report. That’s what a responsible person would do.
She dressed up in her pilgrim costume — the one Grandma Lou had made for Halloween.
Ye olde pilgrimme costoom
had an apron and made Judy look just like a girl from the American Revolution. Judy wore regular-not-loony pants underneath the skirt for bloomers. And she made thirteen curls in her hair — one for each of the thirteen colonies.
“Who are you? Heidi?” Stink asked at breakfast.
“None of your beeswax,” said Judy.
“Are you a nurse?”
“N-O!” said Judy.
“Hey, I know. You’re Priscilla Somebody! Like a pilgrim?”
“No, I’m Revolutionary. The Girl Paul Revere. For my book report today.”
“Oh. So you’re that Sybil La-Dee-Da?”
It sure was hard to declare independence from bad moods when Stink was around.
“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Judy called on her way out the door.
“Hey, wait for me!” Stink yelled.
“Sorry! I’m riding my faster-than-lightning bike to the bus stop!” Judy yelled back. And she was off.
Right before the end of the school day, it was time for Judy’s book report. She asked Frank Pearl to help her. They stood up in front of the class.
“Mr. Todd? I have a different kind of book report. It’s acted out. Like a play.”
“Cool!” said Rocky.
“The book I read is called
Sybil: The Female Paul Revere,
” Judy told her class. “It’s about the Girl Paul Revere. And this,” she said, pointing to Frank, “is the Boy Paul Revere. Frank — I mean Paul — is helping me, Sybil Ludington.”
Judy started with a poem: “‘Listen, my children, and you shall hear / Of a girl who rode way farther than Paul Revere.’”
SYBIL:
Hey, Paul Revere? Why are you so famous?
PAUL:
Because, Sybil Ludington, I rode my horse all night. I warned everybody the British were coming.
SYBIL:
I did, too. My horse is named Star. It was dark. I was scared. It rained all night. I was brave. It was muddy.
PAUL:
It wasn’t muddy when I rode.
SYBIL:
Well, la-dee-da.
“No fair! It doesn’t say that here!” said Frank.
“I just added it,” said Judy. “Keep reading.”
PAUL:
I’m forty years old and I rode sixteen miles.
SYBIL:
I’m only sixteen and I rode almost forty miles.
PAUL:
I made it to Lexington to warn Sam Adams and John Hancock.
SYBIL:
Hey, Paul? Weren’t you caught by the British?
PAUL:
At first I wasn’t. Then I was.
SYBIL:
Didn’t Mr. Todd say they took your horse?
PAUL:
Yes.
SYBIL:
Aha! So you got caught and didn’t finish warning everybody. I, Sybil Ludington, DIDN’T get caught, and I warned everybody. I yelled, ‘Stop the British. Mustard at
Francis Drake, Dee S. Knight
Iris Johansen, Roy Johansen