From the rec room, Margo began an even louder rendition of her poem, starting with the long last verse: "THIS IS THE FARMER WHO SOWED THE CORN, THAT FED THE c.o.c.k THAT CROWED IN THE MORN, THAT WAKED THE PRIEST ALL SHAVEN AND - "

"STOP!".

Utter silence reigned in the Pike house.

Jessi, who had never raised her voice in front of the Pikes, had had enough. "If you two can't rehea.r.s.e quietly, then go outside," she said firmly.

"Better yet, don't rehea.r.s.e," added Mallory, coming to Jessi's side. They were standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Mallory was looking in at Claire. Jessi was looking down the steps at Margo in the rec room.

"We'll be quiet," said Margo contritely.

"Yeah," agreed Claire.

For half an hour, the girls did rehea.r.s.e quietly. And separately. Then Margo tiptoed up the steps to the kitchen, carrying her copy of The House That Jack Built. "Claire?" she said sweetly. "Let's work together, okay? There are a few things I could show you. Like how to shake hands and stuff."

"I know how to shake hands," Claire replied. Still, she looked pleased that her sister wanted to help her.

"Do you know the special Judges' Handshake?" asked Margo.

"Judges' Handshake?" Claire repeated. "No. I thought Dawn said we would curtsy for the judges."

"Well, we'll probably have to shake their hands, too, and you better know how to do it. Here, hold out your left hand."

"But I thought - " Claire began.

"Right hand for regular people, left hand for judges," Margo interrupted importantly.

"Margo! Cut that out!" called Mallory. "You're making that up!"

"Are you?" asked Claire, sounding wounded.

"Yeah," Margo admitted.

"Then you go back downstairs and 'hea.r.s.e alone," said Claire. "Oh, but first would you get me a gla.s.s of milk, please? Since you were so mean to me?"

"Oh, all right."

Margo poured out a gla.s.s of milk and handed it to her sister. "Hey, where's my book?" she asked, looking around for The House That Jack Built.

Claire gazed at Margo with wide, innocent eyes. She blinked. "I don't know."

"You do too. You hid it!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

Jessi had to step in to break up the latest fight. When the girls had settled down and Claire had returned Margo's book (which she had hidden), Jessi marched them into the living room, where Mallory and the rest of the Pikes were involved in a hot Monopoly game.

Mallory tried to find something quiet for Claire and Margo to do. "I hate to suggest this," she said, "but why don't you girls practice your poise or something. Practice walking like . . . walking like . . . Oh, I can't even say it."

"I can," spoke up Jordan. "Practice walking like gorillas."

"Jordan!" shouted Claire and Margo.

"How about walking like, um, females?" suggested Jessi.

"We could try the books again," Claire said to Margo.

"Use encyclopedias," said Nicky.

The girls ignored him. They each found a small paperback and began sashaying around the living room with the books on their heads.

"Oh, that is pathetic," said Mallory to Jessi. "Look at them. They're going to think the only thing that matters in their lives is beauty and poise. They'll grow up believing they can only be pretty faces, not doctors or lawyers or authors."

"I am so glad Becca has stage fright," said Jessi.

At that moment, Adam got to his feet. He followed his sisters around the room, wiggling his hips and singing in a high voice, "Here she comes - Miss A-meeeer-i-ca!"

Claire and Margo didn't utter a word. They just threw down their books and stomped out of the living room. Claire went to the kitchen, Margo to the rec room. A few moments later, the Pikes and Jessi heard, "I'm Popeye the sailor man ..." all mixed up with, "This is the farmer who sowed the corn ..."

"I have a headache," commented Mallory.

"Me too," said Jessi, Adam, Byron, Jordan, Vanessa, and Nicky.

They moved their Monopoly game upstairs and waited for the afternoon to end.

Chapter 10.

This is the house that Jack built. This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built. This is the rat - Stop! Stop! Stop!

I was having a stupid conversation inside my head. I couldn't get that darn poem out of my mind. It was with me all the time.

This is the farmer who sowed the corn, that fed the c.o.c.k . . .

Claire's song was with me, too.

7 eat all the wor-orms and spit out the ger-erms I'm Popeye the . . .

Ew, ew, ew.

"Dawn, would you pay attention, please?"

I jumped. Thank goodness I wasn't in school, just at a meeting of the Baby-sitters Club. Even so, Kristy looked about as peeved as a teacher who's caught a kid drifting around in outer s.p.a.ce.

"Sorry," I said. "It's that poem that Margo's going to recite in the Little Miss Stoneybrook pageant. It's driving me crazy."

"Tell me about it," said Mallory. She looked a little wild.

And Jessi immediately added, "This is the farmer who sowed the corn, that fed the c.o.c.k that crowed in the morn, that waked the priest all shaven and shorn ..."

Mallory and I joined in with, "That married the man all tattered and torn - "

The phone rang then and Kristy reached for it, saying, "Amazing," and giving us a look that might have meant she thought we were totally demented, or might have meant she was really, really impressed with us. It was hard to tell.

Kristy took the call and lined up a job for Mallory with Jamie Newton, this little kid our club sits for a lot. When she was finished, she said, "So. I guess we've each got a kid entering the pageant now. I mean, except for you guys," she added, looking at Mallory and Jessi.

Our junior club members were sitting side by side on the floor, leaning against Claudia's bed and making necklaces out of gum wrappers. Mary Anne and Claudia and I were lounging on the bed. Kristy, of course, was sitting straight and tall in the director's chair, her visor in place. She reminded me a little of an army sergeant.

"Yeah," said Mallory. "We wouldn't be caught dead doing something like that. . . . Oh, I'm sorry! Really I am. I didn't mean to insult anybody. It's just - I meant - I meant - "

The rest of us were laughing, though. I was glad Mallory felt comfortable enough with us to say something like that. And I couldn't resist replying, "If d be pretty hard to enter a kid in the pageant if you were dead, wouldn't it?" I said.

Mallory began to laugh, too.

"Well," I went on, "how's everybody coming along? Claire and Margo will be ready for the talent show, if nothing else."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

I tried again. "Claudia, what's Charlotte going to do in the talent show?"

Claudia looked down at her hands. Her gaze traveled right on down to Mal and Jessi on the floor. "I used to make gum chains," she said. "I had a whole ensemble - a necklace, three bracelets, an ankle bracelet, even earrings."

What kind of answer was that?

I turned to Kristy. "What's Karen going to do?"

More silence.

"How's Myriah coining?" I asked Mary Anne, (Mary Anne got very busy examining the tip of a pen.) "What is this, you guys?" I finally exploded.

"Charlotte's talent is a secret," Claudia replied haughtily.

"So's Karen's," said Kristy.

"And Myriah's," added Mary Anne.

"I thought Myriah was singing and tapping to The Good Ship Lollipop," I said.

"Maybe and maybe not. She has so many talents. She could act or tumble or do a ballet routine, too."

"You mean you haven't decided yet?" said Kristy, looking both smug and hopeful.

"Oh, we've decided," Mary Anne replied. "I just don't want to say anything."

"No fair!" I cried. "You all know what Claire and Margo are doing."

The other girls shrugged as if to say, "Tough luck."

The phone rang three times in a row then, and we lined up jobs for Jessi, Claudia, and me. When our business was finished, and Mary Anne had recorded everything safely in the record book, I ventured another question.

"Did Karen and Myriah and Charlotte receive the pageant information?" (A fat envelope had arrived in the Pikes' mail a few days earlier. It had contained everything we'd need in order for the girls to be official contestants. There were forms to fill out and several pages describing the pageant, what would go on, and exactly what the girls would need to prepare for.) "Yup," said the others, and Kristy added, "I've already sent Karen's forms back." She looked pleased with herself and quite proud.

But Claud, Mary Anne, and I all said, "So did I."

"Oh," said Kristy.

"The questions look hard," spoke up Mary Anne.

"Which questions?" asked Claudia.

"The ones the girls have to answer at the end of the pageant. You know, the last category they receive scores in."

"Oh, yeah," I said. "All those questions like, What is your greatest hope? and, If your house were burning down and you could rescue three things, what would they be?"

"Now that sounds interesting," said Mallory, looking up from her gum chain.

"Yeah," agreed Jessi. "Something their brains will actually be involved in."

"That's right," said Mary Anne. "I'm preparing Myriah very carefully."

"Preparing her?" I repeated. "What do you mean? How can you prepare her? We don't know what the questions will be. That's one area where the girls'll just have to wing it."

"No way," Kristy jumped in. "You have to get the girls thinking of peace and good will and humanity. Mushy stuff like that. You don't want Margo saying she'd rescue money and toys and her Cabbage Patch doll from a burning house. You have to get her thinking along different lines. She better say she'd rescue any family members she could find, her dog or cat - "

Kristy suddenly stopped talking, as if she realized she'd given away state secrets or something.

"Oh, brother." Mallory clapped her hand to her forehead. "They're even ruining this part of the pageant," she said to Jessi. Then she looked at the rest of us. "Wouldn't you rather see the kids use their heads? Be creative? I'd like to see one say she'd rescue the photo alb.u.m so she'd still have memories."

"Or rescue a lucky penny so she could wish for everything back," added Jessi.

I hardly heard them. I was lost in thought. I hadn't even told Claire and Margo about the questions they'd be asked. I'd mentally picked out their outfits for that part of the pageant, but that was all. Now I realized they'd have to "rehea.r.s.e" answering questions.

The meeting was interrupted then when my mom called with a non-job question. She'd been doing that a lot lately.

"What's up?" asked Mary Anne as soon as I'd gotten off the phone. She was the only one of my friends who knew what was going on in my family, and she looked worried.

"Mom is, um. . . I don't know. Her question was really unimportant. It could've waited until I got home. I think she just wanted to hear my voice."

"Why?" asked Kristy.

I glanced at Mary Anne. Then I looked around at my friends. "I might as well tell you," I began, and my voice must have indicated that it was something serious. Everyone grew quiet. Jessi and Mal put their gum chains down.