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explained. “Had to look in on Sophie Davenport’s goat. Terrible case of indigestion. The poor nanny ate two teapots; the Chelsea wasn’t so bad, but the pewter nearly did the critter in.”
    Mona was impressed with Kadota’s wild fib.
    â€œBy the way,” he continued, “I’m driving to Middletown tomorrow; got a cow there that’s ready to drop. Want to come along for the ride, Flo? You too, Mona.”
    â€œWhat an amazing coincidence,” Mona exclaimed, clapping her hands in feigned surprise. She was overplaying her role, but she didn’t have the stage experience Kadota had. “We were just talking about spending the day in Middletown, weren’t we, Uncle Florence?”
    â€œWell, as a matter-of-fact,” Florence began, but his brother had already risen and was heading for the door, the mongrel asleep in his arms.
    â€œI’ll pick you up tomorrow morning in Acorn Alley. We can talk about it some more at the twins’. It’s Capri night, you know.”
    Mona had forgotten, but she didn’t grumble her usual protest. Her plan was working too well to complain about the silly family ritual.

2. CAPRIFICATION
    H AVE YOU GOT great-grandfather’s diary, Flo?” Sissie asked as she bounced into the front seat of the Edsel. Caprification was a ceremony, and Sissie took charge of all ceremonies.
    â€œRight here,” Florence said, patting the worn diary on his lap.
    Sissie turned toward the back seat to make sure.
    Mona climbed in next to her uncle and slammed the door hard. “Let’s go,” she said, impatient to get the evening over with.
    Newt started the car. It spluttered and bucked, and at last they were on their way.
    â€œThe strangest thing happened to me today,” he said. “I was jogging down Hemlock with a sack of pai....”
    Mona cleared her throat loudly.
    â€œ... a sack of paper plates,” he corrected himself.
    â€œPaper plates?” Sissie mused aloud. “Oh, I know, you’re going to string them up around the lot to keep the birds from dirtying the cars.”
    There was a moment’s silence while Newt, Mona, and Florence considered the function of car-lot decorations. Sissie’s idea did seem strangely plausible.
    â€œAnyway,” Newt went on, “would you believe that somebody stole Ebenezer Bargain’s mail?”
    â€œWho would do such an awful thing to that sweet old man?” Sissie asked.
    Mona shrugged in wide-eyed innocence and surprise.
    â€œIt was just a mistake,” Florence said. “Old Eb is getting absentminded; the mail was on his desk all along.”
    â€œHow did you know that?” Mona asked, now really surprised. She had thought her uncle dealt with Bargain only on Giant Days.
    Florence appeared uncomfortable with the question. “I can’t remember who told me. By the way, was your Figg-Newton giant composition a success in school?”
    Mona went pale. She had completely forgotten about her finished composition. She had taken it with her when she had left the house in the morning; she had returned with only the auction catalogue. Over and over again, Mona retraced the day’s activities, but to no avail. There was only one place it could be. She had thrown her composition, along with the mail and newspapers, onto the top of old man Bargain’s desk!
    â€œAre you all right, Mona?” Florence felt her forehead for a fever. Mona nodded unconvincingly.
    â€œMaybe I’m catching your virus,” she said.
    â€œOh, by the way, Flo,” Newt said into the rearview mirror, “Alma Lumpholtz came by the lot with a package for you. She wouldn’t leave it; said she wanted to give it to you in person.”
    â€œIt’s probably a bomb,” Mona said. Newt and Sissie laughed, but she had not meant to be clever.
    â€œOkay, gang, everybody out,” Newt said cheerfully as the car suddenly stalled ten blocks from the