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gave her a slight lisp, which she thought was adorable. As a matter of fact, she thought everything about herself was adorable.
    Dotty stretched her mouth into a wide Katharine Hepburn-type smile.
    â€œDear Janice,” she said. “What would I do without you?” She fluttered her eyelashes at Janice, who looked startled, and turning to a blank page in her notebook, she began to write.
    My father was dressed for church, in his striped suit and his new black hat. He carried his yellow doeskin gloves. His shoes were so shiny a person probably could have seen their face in them .
    â€œ You look very elegant, Papa,” I said, putting my hands inside my squirrel muff .
    My father bowed. “And you also, Daughter,” he said, helping me on with my squirrel coat. “We will wait in the carriage for your mother. She will be down at any moment. ”
    The butler opened the door for us and we went down the marble steps of our mansion .
    â€œOoooooh, you stop that!” Janice squealed joyously, bringing Dotty back to earth. The boy in back of Janice was stuffing his eraser down the back of her sweater. Boys were always stuffing things down her sweater, pulling her hair, stealing her lunch box. Janice planned on going to Hollywood when she got out of school. She planned on becoming a movie star.
    â€œYou think you’re so cute,” Dotty said under her breath. Aloud, she hissed, “You sound like Kimball’s pigs.”
    â€œYou quit that,” Janice squealed again, “or I’ll tell.” She cut her eyes at Dotty and whispered, “Aren’t boys awful?” and Dotty replied in a loud voice, “How would I know?”
    â€œCome to order, class.” Mrs. Murray handed out the papers from Monday’s spelling test. “I’m happy to say we have two perfect papers and two almost perfect. To those of you who did so well, congratulations. To the others,” and it seemed to Dotty that Mrs. Murray was looking straight at her, “I would suggest that they concentrate a little harder and study the words we’ve covered. I’ll give another spelling test next week and will expect better results.”
    Dotty looked down as her paper was passed back to her. She shut one eye. It looked like a 76. It was. A big fat red 76. And spelling was her best subject. Mrs. Murray had drawn red circles around the misspelled words. Imposible. Seperate . And many more. Most of the words she’d gotten wrong she knew how to spell. She was careless, that’s all.
    I’ve got to pay more attention. I’ve got to concentrate. She rested her hand on her forehead and gazed down at her 76. I’ve got to earn some money. I feel old.
    It seemed to Dotty that just beneath the edges of her memory were hiding many valuable lessons she’d learned but had, for the moment, forgotten. In her head was stored a wealth of knowledge, but she couldn’t figure exactly how to get at it.
    Beside her, Janice hummed a little tune. She shuffled her papers noisily and allowed one of the papers to slip from her grasp and slide across the floor to Dotty’s desk, where it lay, face up.
    She poked Dotty, pointing down at her paper. “Get it for me, will you?” she whispered. Wordlessly, Dotty clomped her shoe on it and pushed it back to Janice.
    â€œThanks,” Janice breathed. “I wouldn’t want to lose this. I’m going to take it home and set it up in the kitchen. My parents will be so proud.”
    She tossed back her hair, which was held in place by a pink ribbon which exactly matched her pink dress, and smiled her cross-toothed smile at Dotty.
    What a waste.
    To her rage and frustration, Dotty felt her eyes fill with tears. Only this time they weren’t like Katharine Hepburn’s in Little Women . They were like Dotty Fickett’s in Real Life.
    A different thing entirely.

CHAPTER 8
    Somehow, against its will, the day spun itself out. The bell