“Lawsy me!” exclaimed Clarissa, reverting to her mountain slang. “I let a little thing like that scare me into a faint?”
“You didn’t let the big things scare you. Now that you know how brave you can be, I guess the little things won’t bother you so much, will they?” Judy asked.
“They sure won’t. I’ll write to you all and tell you how I’m doing and I’ll see you—I mean, maybe you’ll see me on television one of these days.”
The party had been a little tiring, Judy realized, after her guests had gone home. She picked up Blackberry and laid her head against his velvety black fur.
“Those prisoners can have their talking pillows,” she said to Peter. “I prefer a pillow that purrs. For the rest of the evening we can just relax and watch television. Oh, how I wish we could watch Irene!”
Judy’s wish came true a few weeks later. A postcard came with the good news. Or was it good? The card didn’t say who Irene’s sponsor would be. Surely Irene hadn’t gone back on her decision! Would it be golden hair wash? Judy was almost afraid to watch.
Peter tuned in the set just in time for her to hear: “... bring you our own Golden Girl, Irene Meredith.” And suddenly there was Irene as natural as though she had just stepped into the living room. And Irene was not alone on the stage. Little Judy was peeking out from behind her skirt like a small pixie. Judy couldn’t believe it when she heard what they were about to sing.
“Oh, no! Irene can’t sing that!” she exclaimed, turning to Peter.
“Listen!” Peter motioned for silence as the song began. Little Judy’s small, piping voice could be heard on the second line. By the third line she was singing all by herself:
“I might sing and play like Mommy on TV or radio,