Free Claudia And The Terrible Truth by Ann M. Martin Page A

pancakes for breakfast," he explained) down the front of his.
    The rest of the kids needed help tying on their costumes. Each of the kids wore two big pieces of cardboard, front and back, with straps over their shoulders holding the costume up, and ties holding it together at the sides. And several of the paint jobs needed touching up.
    I was working on Claire's giant eye costume when I noticed Abby nearby, talking to a woman in a long green dress. "That's Maggie O'Meara," Kristy whispered to me. "She used to live in Stoneybrook. She's a famous Irish singer." "Cool," I said. "What's she doing in an evening gown?" "She's the grand marshal of the parade," Kristy told me, just as Maggie O'Meara walked toward us.
    "The grandmother?" asked Claire, who'd overheard. y/Why does a parade need a grandmother?" "I said grand marshal. It means she's the one who leads the parade," explained Kristy.
    Maggie O'Meara had heard the exchange, and she was smiling. "Good morning, lassies," she said. 'And how are you on this lovely day?" She had a soft, lilting accent.
    "It's not lovely, it's yucky," said Claire.
    She was right. None of us had wanted to dwell on it, but the weather wasn't terrific for a parade. It wasn't cold, but the skies were gray and I'd felt an occasional drizzle as I went about my work.
    "Yucky?" asked Maggie O'Meara with a smile, "in the old country, we'd call this a soft day. After all, it's not pouring, is it? And the winds aren't howling." 'And the weather report says it'll be nicer later on," added Abby, who'd joined us.
    Maggie O'Meara nodded. "With a bit of luck, the sun will shine on us. In any case, I just wanted to welcome you to our parade. Let's see your costume, lassie," she said to Claire. Claire stood up proudly and turned slowly, showing off her eye. I cringed a little, expecting ~Maggie O'Meara to laugh, or ask what an eye had to do with St. Patrick's Day. Instead, she said, "Clever girl," then sang, " 'When Irish eyes are smiling'!" As Maggie O'Meara left, Claire let out a whoop. "She liked my costume best!" "Only because she didn't see mine," said Byron, showing off his leprechaun-hat costume.
    Just then, Archie Rodowsky wandered by, crying quietly. 'Archie?" asked Abby. "What's the matter?" "N-N-Nobody knows what I'm supposed to be," he said, sniffling.
    Abby stood back to take a look at his lumpy gray costume.
    I joined her. "What is he supposed to be?" I whispered into her ear. Since I'd missed the costume-making day, I had no idea.
    "The Blarney Stone," she whispered back.
    "That's great!" "I know. But if nobody understands, he'll be upset all day." She turned to Archie. "Tell you what," she said. "I'm going to make you a little sign, okay? Then everybody will know what you are." Once the other kids saw Archie's sign, everybody wanted one. Most of the shapes were strange enough to need explanations, anyway.
    "This wouldn't have happened if you'd been around the day we made the costumes, Claud," Abby said to me as she pinned an I am a shamrock sign onto Margo's costume.
    Suddenly, a siren sounded. "That's the ten-minute warning," Abby called. 'Are we almost ready? Gather around so we can see." Soon our entire contingent was assembled. Weird shapes or not, the kids looked pretty cute. And when Stacey turned on the tape player she'd brought and they tried out some dance moves to the Irish music, I thought they looked terrific. Especially when the sun broke through the clouds and the day turned into the lovely one Maggie O'Meara had predicted.
    By then, the field was full of paraders. There were three marching bands, two groups of bagpipers, and a drum corps, all of whom were warming up by playing at top volume. Police officers on horses roamed the field.
    Several businesses had sponsored floats. Bloomer's nursery had covered theirs with green plants and had put little leprechaun statues behind them, so