Several times one or two of the littlest kids would break away from the band and wander toward the crowd. But before they’d even gone five feet, a whistle would blow. Then one or two baby-sitters would go on kid alert and herd them back to the band.

  After the parade was finally over and all the children had been returned to their parents, we collapsed, exhausted, on the front lawn of the town hall.

  “Hey, you guys?” Kristy said as she lay on her back, staring up at the sky. “Next Memorial Day parade — what do you say we just watch?”

  The Short Takes course finally came to a close at the end of that week. I could hardly believe it was over.

  I sat in class on Friday, watching Mr. Cobb hand back our final reports. After struggling with several different project ideas, I’d finally designed a reading plan for first through third grades. I’d stressed in my report the need for keeping a balance between “boy” books and “girl” books, and making sure that books from different cultures were represented.

  “I’ve graded your reports,” Mr. Cobb announced as he placed folders on each of our desks. “And written your grade for the whole course on the inside cover of your folder.”

  “Is it too late for a bribe?” Benny Ott cracked.

  “It’s never too late,” Mr. Cobb quipped. “But I don’t know if a bribe would help you, Benny.”

  “How about me, Coach?” Chris Brooks asked.

  Mr. Cobb shook his head dramatically. “I’m afraid you’re a lost cause, pal.”

  As I watched Mr. Cobb joke with my classmates, I thought about all that had happened since the course began. I wish I could say that after I talked with Mr. Cobb, I made a complete turnaround and was suddenly leading the discussions in my class. But that didn’t happen.

  I was glad I had found the courage to talk to my teacher. And Mr. Cobb really had made an effort to be fair this last week. But I was still hesitant about expressing my opinions in his class.

  It’s hard to admit this, but part of me was still afraid that people might think I was trying to be a brainy show-off, so I kept pretty quiet.

  Mr. Cobb was now in my aisle. He held three folders in his hand. I could see my report on the bottom, the one with the red cover.

  He passed Glen Johnson his report. Then he handed Bobby Gustavson his. Finally, Mr. Cobb turned to me. It was the moment I’d been dreading.

  “Well, Mallory,” Mr. Cobb said, still holding my report in his hand, “I must say, I was very impressed with this report. You did your research, and you seem to really know your children’s literature.”

  My heart started thudding a little faster. From the way Mr. Cobb was talking, it sounded as though I had done really well. Could it be possible?

  He placed my report on my desk. “Thanks. For the report — and for our talk.”

  Now my heart was really pounding and my throat was dry. I reached for the red cover. I hadn’t done well in the participation department, but maybe my report had changed things.

  I held my breath and flipped open the cover.

  He had given me a … B+.

  “Oh.” I stared at the grade. My straight-A average was blown. I’d finally received a B. It didn’t matter that it had a plus attached to it. It was a B. I took a deep breath.

  “Aw, too bad,” I heard Benny Ott moan from behind me.

  I spun around, angry that he was making fun of my grade. But he wasn’t. He was talking to himself. As I listened to the kids compare scores, I realized that Mr. Cobb had been a tough grader. Only two people had received A’s.

  “Can you believe it?” Lisa Mannheim caught up with me after class. “Mr. Cobb gave me an A!”

  “You deserved it, Lisa,” I said, genuinely meaning it.

  “Thanks. How did you do?” Lisa asked.

  “Mr. Cobb gave me a B-plus,” I replied.

  I could have been depressed but I wasn’t. The past few weeks had been a learning experience. I looked down at my report and actually felt very proud. I’d worked hard for this grade. I had done my best.

  And that’s all that really mattered.

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  In Don’t Give Up, Mallory, Mallory gets to take a class in children’s literature, and she is very excited about it at first. I can see why. I have always loved children’s books. I loved my own when I was a child, and even now I am always discovering new favorites. I like to browse in bookstores and libraries, and find interesting new books as well as stories I enjoyed when I was little. On my shelves are lots of the books I had when I was a child. They are well loved, and well read. I’m looking at the bookshelves in my office now and I can see my copies of Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang, Misty of Chincoteague, Blueberries for Sal, Pippi Longstocking, Beady Bear, and lots of others.

  One of the exciting things for me about being an author is getting to meet other authors. Over the years, I’ve been lucky enough to meet Judy Blume, Madeleine L’Engle, and R.L. Stine, among others. And one of my closest friends is Paula Danziger. In fact, we’re writing a book together now. Books and reading have always been an important part of my life — just as they are for Mallory.

  Happy reading,

  * * *

  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Jahnna Beecham and Malcolm Hillgartner

  for their help in

  preparing this manuscript.

  About the Author

  ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.

  There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.) In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.

  Ann lives in upstate New York with her dog and her cats.

  Copyright © 1997 by Ann M. Martin

  Cover art by Hodges Soileau

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  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, May 1997

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-79317-9

 


 

  Ann M. Martin, Don't Give Up, Mallory

 


 

 
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