The Girls Take Over by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

said Wally.
    “Why not?” said Caroline.
    “Because it wouldn't,” he said.
    “Well, how come you're so good at spelling, then?” Caroline persisted.
    “I don't know,” said Wally, grabbing his lunch bag and heading for the all-purpose room.
    Caroline ran after him and tugged at his sleeve. “Well, then, if you really don't want to do it, why don't you miss a word on purpose and let me win the spelling bee for our class?” And then, unable to stop herself, she said, “Let me be the reigning spelling-bee queen for Upshur County.”
    Wally stopped in his tracks. He turned and stared at Caroline as though he had never seen her before. As though she were a little bug he was examining under a microscope.
    “Never!” he said, wheeling around again, and went off to eat at the boys' table.
    Caroline sat down on a chair and took out her eggsaladsandwich. She would be queen of something yet. She just had to be!

    “This is a weird school,” Beth announced at dinner that evening. “It's spring, and somehow all these contests and tournaments are coming up. It's as though no one can do anything unless it's a game.”
    “What are you talking about?” asked her mother.
    “First they've got baseball. You can't just divide up all the kids who want to play into two groups and let them play each other. You've got to have teams and play against other schools.”
    “So what's wrong with that?” said Eddie. “That's what sports are all about. I think it's great.”
    “Well, maybe for baseball it's okay, but now there's going to be a spelling contest in each class, and after that a countywide spelling bee, and then I suppose there will even be a national contest,” Beth went on.
    “I think it's rather nice,” said Mrs. Malloy, taking a roll from the bread basket and reaching for the butter. “I think a spelling bee should be every bit as exciting as a baseball game.”
    “But now they're doing it to books!” Beth protested. “As soon as we got back from spring vacation, the principal promised that if the whole school read a thousand books by the end of April, he'd spend the night on the school roof.”
    Mr. Malloy laughed. “Why, that's a great idea! What better way to get kids into reading than for their principal to promise to do something ridiculous?” Helaughed some more. “Boy, will he be miserable. He'd better hope it doesn't rain.”
    “Dad, listen to yourself !” Beth scolded. “The principal will do something ridiculous and miserable if we will do something miserable and ridiculous first?”
    “Yeah, Dad,” put in Eddie. “Read a thousand books and make yourselves miserable. Is that what he's saying?”
    “You should read books because they're fun ! Because you enjoy it!” said Caroline.
    Mrs. Malloy looked at her husband and smiled. “They've got you there, George! The principal is sending the wrong message.”
    “He shouldn't have to send any message at all,” said Beth. “It's like telling us that he'll spend the night on the roof if we'll eat a thousand hot fudge sundaes. It's something we want to do anyway. He doesn't have to bribe us.”
    Her father wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You know, it's times like this that make me feel I've got the wisest daughters in the world,” he said. “And it's things like the three of you playing too close to the river that make me think you were born without brains. So, on balance, I'd say you're okay kids after all. But how does the principal know whether you really read a book or just said you did?”
    “We have to write the titles on a chart, and the teacher asks us questions about the books to make sure we read them all the way through,” Beth explained.
    The telephone rang just then and Caroline, who was closest, picked it up and held it to her ear. “Hello?”
    “Caroline?” said the voice. “This is Wally.”
    “Yes, Wally?” Caroline purred. “Have you decided to let me be the spelling-bee queen from our room?” She could hear her