Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat by Lynne Jonell

interrupted hurriedly. “Did you have a nice day out yesterday? Where did you go?” She opened her eyes wide.
    A little muscle jumped at the corner of Miss Barmy’s eye. “Nowhere in particular,” she said vaguely. “Dear me, we mustn’t forget our herbal scent on the pulse points.” She took a small bottle from her sleeve, shaking it fussily.
    Emmy smiled with secret joy. She had just discovered something: the way to keep the nanny from being too nosy about Emmy’s business was to ask questions about things Miss Barmy would rather keep hidden!
    The nanny dabbed a little liquid behind Emmy’sears. “The lovely scent will linger all day, providing a pleasant respite from the rigors of study.”
    Emmy, by a wrenching effort, managed to avoid rolling her eyes. Of all Miss Barmy’s weird herbal remedies, this was the most pointless. The scent that she dabbed on didn’t even smell particularly nice—and after the first few minutes, Emmy didn’t notice it at all.
    Miss Barmy sipped her prune juice, humming a little under her breath. “Don’t forget, Emmaline—tonight is quality time with your parents. It’s on the schedule—fifteen minutes, or perhaps more if you’re good.”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” said Emmy, turning to go. Fifteen minutes’ quality time—she’d get a lot more than that. Just the ride from the airport was thirty minutes, at least!
    Maggie held the back door open and winked. And as Emmy passed outside, she felt something being dropped quietly into her pocket.
    Two peanut-butter cups.

E MMY OPENED HER BACKPACK behind the hedge. “Climb out—I’m going to be late for school.”
    â€œIs it safe?” The Rat peered up, squinting in the sudden light. “I nearly had a heart attack when I saw that—”
    â€œ Meow? ” A furry golden head pushed past Emmy’s arm to peer into the backpack. The Rat tumbled over in a dead faint.
    â€œOh, great, Muffy.” Emmy pushed the cat away with an impatient hand. “Scare him to death, why don’t you?”
    The cat looked smug.
    â€œWell, I’ll have to take him to school now,” said Emmy. “No thanks to you.” She hoisted the pack and took off at a run. She slid into her seat just as the last bell rang, undid the top flap of her backpack, and risked a whisper.
    â€œRat!”
    No answer.
    Worried, Emmy got a bathroom pass and took her backpack with her. “Ratty? Speak to me!”
    The Rat moaned from the depths of the pack. “Did you have to run the whole way?”
    â€œOh, Rat, I’m sorry—”
    He put a paw to his head. “I felt like cement in a mixer. And my heart is still racing from that … that … what did you call that cat?”
    â€œMuffy,” Emmy said miserably.
    â€œMuffy?” the Rat repeated in tones of disbelief. “Not Fang ? Not Assassin ?” He shook his head and looked around. “What is this place?”
    â€œThe girls’ bathroom,” Emmy said. “At school.”
    â€œ School? ” the Rat shrieked. “You take me back to my prison ?”
    â€œListen. You can take a nap”—Emmy looked around for inspiration—“in a soft nest,” she finished, crumpling some toilet paper in the bottom of her backpack. “I’ll drop in something to eat at lunchtime. Come on, get in.”
    The Rat looked sourly at her. “I’m hungry now. Is your lunch in that sack?”
    â€œYou can have it. Have anything you want. Just hurry. ”
    The Rat poked his nose into the lunch bag. “Hmm, this looks interesting.” He took a bite, chewed, and stopped, looking distressed. “Great rat droppings, what is this slop?”
    â€œTofu muffin. Sorry. It wasn’t my idea.”
    â€œNo peanut-butter cups?”
    Emmy put her hand in her pocket and hesitated. “First promise me that