over and reached under her bed. “You mean this one?” she asked. She held up a weathered clipboard with a pen attached.
“Carole,” Stevie said, “our every problem is solved.”
When the eight minutes were long since past, Colonel Hanson hollered up the stairs for Stevie and Carole. Lisa had decided that since she no longer had to ride, she could extend her free time by ten or fifteen minutes—or maybe even half an hour. She promised to have the forms printed out by Monday to give to Carole at school.
“B ETTER AND BETTER ,” Carole commented appreciatively. She had just watched Stevie run through all of the transitions in her test. As usual she and Topside were in top form. The girls were having their regular Tuesday lesson. Max was down at the other end of the ring working intensively with Polly and Romeo, whose circles looked more like squares.
“Thanks,” Stevie said, “but I’m not sure if we are betterand better. Most of the time I feel like we’re always the same.”
Carole amended her compliment. “Okay, you’re always the same, and that’s always good. The judges will love him.”
“Exactly,” Stevie said glumly. “They’ll love
him,
and
he
deserves all the praise he gets.”
“I didn’t mean it like that—you look great, too,” Carole added hastily.
Stevie apologized. She explained that she didn’t want Carole to think she was fishing for compliments, but she really and truly believed that whatever score they received, Topside would be the reason. “We might get a blue ribbon; we might not. It hardly matters. If we do, it won’t be a big deal anyway. Topside will have earned it, and he’s gotten blue ribbons at international competitions like the American Horse Show—what would it mean to get one at a little Pony Club rally?”
“It would mean—” Carole paused. What would it mean? She didn’t know, because she’d never had Stevie’s problem. She had never
expected
to get a blue. And whenever she and Starlight did well, she knew they had both worked hard.
“It’s hard to answer, isn’t it? The whole point of Pony Club is to learn. But I’m not learning anything. On Topside I’m just sitting back and enjoying the ride,” Stevie said.
“Are you saying that you want more of a challenge?” Carole asked.
Stevie nodded, a slow grin creeping across her face. “Want—and have: I’ve decided to ride Prancer at the rally if it’s all right with Max.”
Carole clapped her hands together in excitement. “That’s a great idea! It’ll be wonderful for you
and
Prancer. Why didn’t you just say so?”
Stevie tossed her head airily. “Oh, I wanted to build up the dramatic suspense,” she said.
“Humph,” Carole muttered. “Maybe you’re the one who ought to be onstage.”
A FTER CLASS C AROLE and Stevie walked around handing out the forms Lisa had drawn up. They felt very important—first, to have solved the club’s stable-management problem, and second, to be presenting such perfect documents. Betsy and Polly oohed and aahed openly at Lisa’s neat work, just as they had admired the new first-aid kit she had dropped off on her way to school.
“Wow, she thought of
every
thing,” Polly exclaimed.
“I know,” Betsy agreed. “Who else would have remembered hair nets? My mother and I are always having a mad search at the last minute.”
When Veronica got her forms, she just shrugged. “It’s about time Lisa got her act together. Obviously, shewasn’t going to be able to ride that wild horse off the track,” she muttered.
“Oh, you mean Prancer?” Stevie asked innocently.
Veronica nodded. “Of course. That horse won’t be ready to go to a show for months, let alone a Pony Club rally.”
Stevie and Carole said nothing. On their way back past Garnet’s stall, they noticed Veronica poring over the handouts, an impressed look on her face.
“I hope she looks like that when she hears the news about Prancer,” Carole whispered.
Max and Mrs. Reg
“Carole,” Stevie said, “our every problem is solved.”
When the eight minutes were long since past, Colonel Hanson hollered up the stairs for Stevie and Carole. Lisa had decided that since she no longer had to ride, she could extend her free time by ten or fifteen minutes—or maybe even half an hour. She promised to have the forms printed out by Monday to give to Carole at school.
“B ETTER AND BETTER ,” Carole commented appreciatively. She had just watched Stevie run through all of the transitions in her test. As usual she and Topside were in top form. The girls were having their regular Tuesday lesson. Max was down at the other end of the ring working intensively with Polly and Romeo, whose circles looked more like squares.
“Thanks,” Stevie said, “but I’m not sure if we are betterand better. Most of the time I feel like we’re always the same.”
Carole amended her compliment. “Okay, you’re always the same, and that’s always good. The judges will love him.”
“Exactly,” Stevie said glumly. “They’ll love
him,
and
he
deserves all the praise he gets.”
“I didn’t mean it like that—you look great, too,” Carole added hastily.
Stevie apologized. She explained that she didn’t want Carole to think she was fishing for compliments, but she really and truly believed that whatever score they received, Topside would be the reason. “We might get a blue ribbon; we might not. It hardly matters. If we do, it won’t be a big deal anyway. Topside will have earned it, and he’s gotten blue ribbons at international competitions like the American Horse Show—what would it mean to get one at a little Pony Club rally?”
“It would mean—” Carole paused. What would it mean? She didn’t know, because she’d never had Stevie’s problem. She had never
expected
to get a blue. And whenever she and Starlight did well, she knew they had both worked hard.
“It’s hard to answer, isn’t it? The whole point of Pony Club is to learn. But I’m not learning anything. On Topside I’m just sitting back and enjoying the ride,” Stevie said.
“Are you saying that you want more of a challenge?” Carole asked.
Stevie nodded, a slow grin creeping across her face. “Want—and have: I’ve decided to ride Prancer at the rally if it’s all right with Max.”
Carole clapped her hands together in excitement. “That’s a great idea! It’ll be wonderful for you
and
Prancer. Why didn’t you just say so?”
Stevie tossed her head airily. “Oh, I wanted to build up the dramatic suspense,” she said.
“Humph,” Carole muttered. “Maybe you’re the one who ought to be onstage.”
A FTER CLASS C AROLE and Stevie walked around handing out the forms Lisa had drawn up. They felt very important—first, to have solved the club’s stable-management problem, and second, to be presenting such perfect documents. Betsy and Polly oohed and aahed openly at Lisa’s neat work, just as they had admired the new first-aid kit she had dropped off on her way to school.
“Wow, she thought of
every
thing,” Polly exclaimed.
“I know,” Betsy agreed. “Who else would have remembered hair nets? My mother and I are always having a mad search at the last minute.”
When Veronica got her forms, she just shrugged. “It’s about time Lisa got her act together. Obviously, shewasn’t going to be able to ride that wild horse off the track,” she muttered.
“Oh, you mean Prancer?” Stevie asked innocently.
Veronica nodded. “Of course. That horse won’t be ready to go to a show for months, let alone a Pony Club rally.”
Stevie and Carole said nothing. On their way back past Garnet’s stall, they noticed Veronica poring over the handouts, an impressed look on her face.
“I hope she looks like that when she hears the news about Prancer,” Carole whispered.
Max and Mrs. Reg
Similar Books
