right enough. When Polly started jug-a-rum ing in school, she’d gotten plenty of attention. More than she’d really cared for. As for the smiling, most of the pupils had been laughing right out loud.
But there was another part to her wish, too:
…That someday soon, Agatha will ask me to come to her house .
At least that part wouldn’t come true, thought Polly. Maybe it was for the best. If she got to croaking at Agatha’s house, and if Agatha and Eunice laughed at her again the way they had in school, she didn’t know what she’d do.
The thought of what had happened set Polly’s head to spinning dizzily. She couldn’t help wondering how things would be from now on. There was no possibility of unwishing what she’d asked for. Thaddeus Blinn had left Coven Tree, never to return. She’d be like this forever, forced to say only whipped-cream compliments and sweet things to people, no matter how horrid they were. Either that or begin the ridiculous croaking.
By the end of the lunch hour Polly was again able to speak. Miss Morasco looked her over carefully and even made her recite “Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Pickled Peppers” before she was allowed to go to her seat. All afternoon Polly sat mute, considering the mess she’d made of things with her wish.
Perhaps if she were to tell Agatha Benthornhow sorry she was for the wretched things she’d done and said, maybe Thaddeus Blinn would take pity on her and remove the magic spell. It was just a forlorn hope, but at least it was better than nothing.
How to go about it was the problem. Agatha certainly wouldn’t talk to Polly at school, and it would be impossible to see Agatha at home. No children ever went inside the big house on the hill except Eunice Ingersoll. The two girls would sip tea and eat little cookies and act like real ladies.
But before they could have their tea, they’d have to get the little cookies. They bought fresh ones every day. Before going home, Agatha would stop at the only place in Coven Tree where the cookies were sold—Stew Meat’s store!
At dismissal Polly dashed out of school and ran across the playground as fast as she could. She tried to get straight all the things she was going to say. But no matter how she arranged them, they never seemed to sound right.
Polly got to the store first. She was hiding behind a display of canned goods when Agatha and Eunice walked in the front door, gossiping to one another. While the two purchased theircookies, Polly started summoning up the nerve to step out and show herself.
She’d just about got her courage up, when suddenly she began listening to what Agatha and Eunice were saying to one another.
“I don’t know what’s come over her,” said Agatha. “Croaking like that, and right in school. Imagine! Do you suppose she’s doing it on purpose?”
“I don’t think she can help it,” replied Eunice with a little giggle. “Polly wouldn’t want folks laughing at her the way they do when she makes that sound.”
“Serves the little wretch right! After what she did to my dress and all.”
Then a big grin spread across Agatha’s face. “I can hardly wait until Thursday.”
“Do you suppose she’ll accept your invitation?” asked Eunice.
“Of course she will. She’s been simply dying to come to my house for ages.” Then Agatha began whispering in Eunice’s ear.
“Fix her once and for all…be really funny…my mother will…”
“What a marvelous idea,” said Eunice finally. Both girls started giggling like little imps.
Polly slipped out the back of the store. She knew that she—and JUG-A-RUM! —were the cause of the girls’ laughter. Well, she’d be hanged if she’d give Agatha and Eunice the satisfaction of humiliating her even more.
Then Polly’s stubborn pride took over. No, she’d accept the invitation. Even if they were plotting against her, she’d show them she could be a real lady even if…if she croaked like a frog until she was old and
John Warren, Libby Warren
F. Paul Wilson, Alan M. Clark