For a whole hour, Evan poured lemonade. Cup after cup, pitcher after pitcher. Wow, he thought as he tipped out the last drops of his fourth pitcher, the world is really thirsty. And I’m the Lemonade King.
Frannie’s class is reading a poem that begins, “Hope is the thing with feathers.” Frannie hasn’t really thought much about hope before. She’s usually busy thinking about everything else going on in her life.