Karen's Copycat

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Karen's Copycat Page 5

by Ann M. Martin


  March had come in like a lion. Not going out like a lamb, though. More like a lion cub.

  Mommy and Seth were not pleased to learn that I had been a pottery-class trouble-maker. But they did not ask for details (I had a feeling Merry had asked them not to). They said that if Merry was satisfied that I had been punished, then they would not punish me further. Merry told them that it was all taken care of.

  Andrew and I were friends again. I had told him I was sorry for calling him a copycat. He had told me he was sorry for being a copycat. We agreed to be nicer to each other in the future.

  I apologized to Isabel Linden too. She was not as nice about my apology as Andrew had been. She said, “Okay,” but I could tell she did not mean it.

  If I were Isabel, I would not forgive me very quickly either.

  The last couple of pottery classes were really fun. I had to start all over on a new coil project. (This time I made a pencil holder. It was a little easier than a vase.) After it was fired, I glazed it, and then the glaze was fired.

  The glaze turned out sort of shiny blue-green with little brownish spots showing through. (It looked prettier than it sounds.) I loved the way it looked.

  I gave the pencil holder to Merry. I thought she deserved it.

  When I presented it to her, Merry said, “Why, thank you, Karen. That is a very sweet gesture. And now I have a place to keep all my pencils.”

  I grinned and said, “I really learned a lot in your class, Merry, and not just about pottery.”

  “I am glad you did, Karen. I learned a lot too. I know a class has gone well when both the students and the teacher learned something in it.”

  “You are probably right,” I said. I never knew that teachers could learn from students too.

  On the last day of class, we had a show of our work. My pencil holder was in it. Andrew’s snake family was in it. But the star of the show was Isabel’s vase. (Not the one I had been working on. I never found out what Isabel did with that one.) Everybody oohed and ahhed over Isabel’s vase.

  On the whole, I would say pottery class was fun. But I was very glad it was over.

  Still, there was one more pottery lesson to come.

  “Are you ready, Musketeers?” I asked.

  “Yes! Ready!” shouted Hannie and Nancy.

  “Ready!” shouted Andrew. (When he is with us, sometimes we let him be a fourth Musketeer.)

  Merry was taking us to the community center for a special private lesson. She even promised to show us how to use the pottery wheel.

  The wheel is a big platter that spins around. You put a lump of wet clay in the center. As the clay spins, you shape it with your hands to make bowls and cups and things. When Merry does it, the clay looks alive. Bowls appear like magic.

  Merry said using the wheel is difficult at first, but becomes much easier with practice.

  I could not wait to use it.

  “Okay, Musketeers,” I said. Merry pulled into the parking lot of the community center. “Here we are!”

  I was excited about using the wheel. I was excited about having the best nanny ever. I was excited about being with the Musketeers. I could not stop myself. I just had to shout out our motto.

  “All for one — ” I hollered.

  And you can guess what Hannie, Nancy, and Andrew shouted back.

  About the Author

  ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.

  Copyright © 1999 by Ann M. Martin

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, BABY-SITTERS LITTLE SISTER, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

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  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First edition, 1999

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-06081-2

 

 

 


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