The Friendship Doll by Kirby Larson Page A

inching along on the ground far below. She smiled at the thought of the vast vistas she would see as she was transported through the blue Chicago sky. How was she going to stand the wait?
    Nervously, she smoothed the skirt of her blue print dress. Mom had let the hem out for the third time. Even after a soaking in vinegar, the first two hemlines were still visible. Mabel had said, “It’s fine. You can’t hardly see anything. Besides, people are going to have their eyes on the sights at the fair, not on your dress.” She’d given Lois a big hug then. “You go and have a swell time.”
    At this memory, the quarter grew heavier in Lois’ hand. Mabel was a true-blue buddy. She’d never told anyone about what really happened to Mrs. Whitford’s prizedahlias. Or why a board went missing from Mr. Stewart’s fence. Only Mabel could be genuinely happy for someone else getting to go to the World’s Fair.
    Lois clasped the handkerchief between her hands, her feelings on a teeter-totter. Twenty-five cents would buy a nice souvenir for Mabel, who didn’t have an Aunt Eunice to treat her to “educational experiences.” But Dad gave her this money for
her
adventure. He would be so disappointed if she didn’t use it to fulfill her dream.
    The train jostled her in her seat, jolting her out of her thoughts. No sense getting into a lather. She didn’t have to decide right this minute. She had the entire day ahead of her. A paper sack of cinnamon-sugar-dusted doughnuts sat in her lap. Lois ate the last one, not bothering to offer it to her dozing great-aunt. Lois studied her as she chewed. Maybe, just maybe, the Sky Ride was part of Aunt Eunice’s plan. That would make it easy to decide how to spend that quarter.
    She nearly jumped out of her seat when the conductor called out, “Chicago!” Aunt Eunice stirred, then gathered herself to her feet, leaning on her walking stick to step into the aisle and detrain. Wobbling like a top that had been wound too tightly, Lois followed Aunt Eunice through the station.
    Aunt Eunice waved her hanky at a porter. “Please call us a cab,” she said.
    Lois quivered again. A cab! Wait until she told Mabel. Lois thought the cabbie was the jolliest man ever. ButAunt Eunice frowned and clucked when he burst out singing “Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries.” Under her breath, Lois sang along:
    “Life is just a bowl of cherries
.
    Don’t take it serious; it’s too mysterious.”
    They rolled down Twelfth Street, passing the Field Museum. The minute the taxi turned the last corner, the song dried right up in Lois’ mouth. If Mabel had been there, they would have pinched one another to make certain they weren’t dreaming. Lois had to pinch herself.
    “Stay close!” Aunt Eunice steered her way through the crowds squeezing into the North Entrance. Lois followed her great-aunt through the gates and onto the fairgrounds. Stretching in front of her, as far as she could see, was a wide avenue, flanked on either side by a row of red flags. At the far end of the Avenue of Flags, the tall blue tower of the Hall of Science was topped with even more flags. To her right stood the Sears Roebuck Building, a gleaming white modern-day temple.
    “Close your mouth, Lois,” Aunt Eunice said. “You’re letting flies in.”
    Lois closed her mouth but kept her eyes open wide. She’d never seen any place so shiny, so modern, so big. It was not yet nine o’clock in the morning, but neon lights blinked everywhere, reflecting off buildings painted in rich flat colors. The pamphlet she and Mabel had read and reread had described the fair as a “symphony of steeland stone and glass.” It hadn’t exaggerated one bit. Lois grew light-headed from trying to decide where to look.
    “You, there.” Aunt Eunice stopped a fair employee once they were through the entrance gate. “Could you direct us to the Food Pavilion?”
    Lois had memorized the map in the pamphlet and could have led Aunt Eunice around the