"And the winner is…" Everyone stared at Honey in shock.

"Hey, you haven't even counted the slips yet!" said Mart. "Don't tell me you've been taking lessons from Trixie in jumping to conclusions."

Trixie glared at Mart but Honey just grinned. "I wanted to make sure no one would leave before I had a chance to count the votes." Honey proceeded to open each slip of paper carefully and neatly drew a tally mark for each vote. Trixie sat nearby, squirming with impatience.

"Come on Honey, I'm dying to know what the winner is!"

Honey looked up and slowly wet her fingertip before slowly picking up another slip from the stack.  Finally, she put down her pencil. "Okay, this time I really do have a winner. Ladies and gentlemen, our new business is "If Wishes Were Horses."

"Oh!" exclaimed Di. "I was hoping that would win. I can just see the logo that would be perfect for it too!"

"Great! Then do you want to design it?" asked Trixie.

"Of course! I'll work on it in art class tomorrow and play with Photoshop and … Whoops, I guess I'm doing Honeyspeak now too." Di stopped talking and quickly jotted some notes to herself.

"In that case, if there is no further business…" Trixie stopped and looked at Honey. Honey smiled smugly and shook her head. "Do I have a nomination to close the meeting?"

By lunch the next day, Di had a logo ready for the group to look at. Excitedly, she placed her printout in the middle of the table.

"So, so, what do you think? Did I capture the idea of our business?"

The rest of the Bob-Whites eagerly gathered around to look.

If Wishes Were Horses

"Oh look!" exclaimed Honey. "That's so cute, the way the bubbles rise out of the genie's lamp with a picture of someone riding a horse."

Even the boys agreed that the picture was "pretty neat" and not too girly-girl.

"After all, we want both boys and girls to feel like they're welcome," said Dan. "The picture of the rider is perfect because it's small enough to look like either a boy or a girl."

"As Jean-Francois Millet would say," Mart declared, "It is the treating of the commonplace with the feelings of the sublime that gives to art its true power."

"I think Mart is tying to say that you did a great job," said Brian, while giving him a quick jab. "Seriously, the logo is perfect."

Di's face glowed with excitement from their praise. It wasn't that long ago that her self-confidence had been very low. Her family's sudden wealth had caused her to doubt her own self-worth. Did her classmate suddenly want to be her friend because of her father's money? Only spending time with Honey and her family helped Di to finally become comfortable with her new status.

Jim, always the more practical member of the group along with Brian, glanced quickly at his watch. "Honey, didn't you say at breakfast that you wanted to try and set up an appointment with Mr. Stratton during lunch? You'd better hurry, there's only 5 minutes left."

Startled, Honey jumped to her feet. "Oh my goodness, you're right. I'd better hurry!" Stuffing the remainder of her lunch in her bag, she hurried out of the cafeteria.

Mart swallowed the last bite of his Crabapple Special. "I have Mrs. Carter's class right after lunch. I think I'll get a head start so I can talk to her before class." As he stood up, he asked, "Do you want me to call after everyone gets home or just wait till tomorrow morning on the bus?"

Jim looked to Dan and Di for consensus. "Tomorrow's good enough isn't it?" Nods of agreement came from both of them. "That way you don't have to repeat everything over and over again."

The bell rang for the end of lunch. "Doesn't it seem like lunch goes by way too fast?" complained Trixie. "Or is it just me?"

"It's not entirely you," said Brian diplomatically. "We just have too much to get done in one day."

"You could always ask the school board to extend the lunch period. Just so you can accomplish more Bob-White business." Dan smiled. "I'm sure they'll be perfectly understanding."

With an angelic expression, Trixie stuck out her tongue and quickly dashed out of the cafeteria to head for her next class.

Honey walked timidly up to the receptionist's desk in the school office. "Ex- Excuse me, Mrs. Wickman?" A year in Trixie's company hadn't quite erased the shyness of her time at boarding school.

Mrs. Wickman looked up and smiled kindly at Honey. "Yes, Miss Wheeler, how can I help you?"

"I'd..." Honey nervously cleared her throat. Come on Honey, this is no way to appear professional. You can do this. Just pretend you're Trixie right now. She'd have no problem doing this. You'd think being around her would rub off on me more. Now buck up and say what you want. In a firmer voice, Honey blurted out, "I'd like to schedule an appointment with Mr. Stratton if that's possible."

"Did Mr. Stratton ask to see you?"

"No, um, this is something that the Bob-Whites are working on and we'd like to have Mr. Stratton's input on our idea."

"I see." Mrs. Wickman pulled out an appointment book. "Mr. Stratton is free tomorrow after school at 3:15. I can put you on his calendar if that works for you. However, you will need to be a little more specific." She gazed at Honey expectantly as her pencil hovered over the calendar.

Stifling the urge to twirl her hair around her finger, Honey thought quickly and then stood up straight. "The Bob-Whites are interested in sponsoring trips to my, er, the Wheeler stables for the students. We're not entirely sure of the liability involved or if the school would even be interested." Her brief bravado slipped away and Honey looked pleadingly toward the secretary. "Is that enough information?"

"Oh my, yes, I should think so. That sounds terribly interesting! You Bob-Whites are always involved in such fascinating things. What I wouldn't have given to be able to do things like that when I was your age." With a rueful sigh, Mrs. Wickman noted the information on the calendar. "Will there be anything else dear?"

"No ma'am. I'd better be hurrying on to my next class." Honey's innate good manners came to her rescue and she extended her hand. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Wickman. You've been ever so helpful."

The two shook hands and as Honey left the office, Mrs. Wickman murmured, "Too bad every student couldn't be that polite."

Mart entered Room F-5 a minute before the passing bell rang. Mrs. Carter looked up from the stack of papers she was grading. "Mart, you're here early. Do you need some help on the homework I assigned?"

"No, actually I wanted to talk to you about the internship program."

"Oh yes, the discussion we had the other day about placing some interns out at the Wheeler stables. Is this something your group would be interested in facilitating after all?"

"Yes. We had a meeting and it turns out our ideas aren't panning out like we'd hoped, but everyone was very excited by your offer. We'd like more information though about what exactly we'll need to do. We need to present this information to Mr. Wheeler for his approval."

Mrs. Carter immediately assumed a brisk, all-business demeanor. "All right, to begin, I'll need to contact Mr. Wheeler to schedule a time when I can come out to the stables and ensure that the facilities are a safe working environment."

Mart's eyes goggled wide. "A safe working environment? Are you kidding? Regan would skin us alive if it were anything but. He's the most anal person I know when it comes to maintaining an immaculate premises."

Mrs. Carter smiled. "I'm sure he is, but nevertheless, it is my responsibility as the Internship Coordinator to physically inspect any off-campus workplace. After all, Mart, it isn't only my reputation on the line, it is also the professional status with which the district is regarded in this community."

Abashed, Mart apologized. "I'm sorry Mrs. Carter. It's just, I didn't realize what exactly you do."

"That's quite all right. Now, in addition to the inspection, I'll need to interview whoever will be supervising the students." She began ticking items off on her fingers. "Also, I'll have to make sure sufficient insurance is available or have the owner, Mr. Wheeler, sign an affiliation agreement with the district so that he'll be covered under our insurance umbrella. Finally, I'll need to know what times our students will be working on the premises and how many students can be accommodated."

Realizing how much information was being presented; Mart belatedly grabbed a paper and pen to start taking notes.

Mrs. Carter glanced at his feverish note taking and smiled. "Why Mart, I thought your memory was better than that."

"It is Mrs. Carter, but, well, this is extraordinarily important. We want to put together a top-notch, high-quality presentation for Mr. Wheeler. After all, he's one of the foremost businessmen in America and we don't want to embarrass ourselves by coming in unprepared or end up wasting his time. And Trixie's really got her heart set on doing this. I don't want to see her disappointed because we, I mean I, screwed up on the details.

"Speaking of the details, could I have a copy of the affiliation agreement you were mentioning? I'm sure everyone is going to want to see it so we can start working on what we're going to say."

Mrs. Carter went to her filing cabinets and pulled out an official looking form. "Since this is intended to be filled out in triplicate, I'm going to make a Xerox copy for you. While I'm at it, I'll go ahead and give you a copy of my Internship brochure. I give this to all of my prospective employers. I'll also give you my business card to give to Mr. Wheeler in case he has any questions that you can't answer."

Mart stood there with the pile of papers in his hand, a bemused expression on his face. Speechless for a moment, the normally verbose young man appeared to be grasping for words. Finally, he spoke quietly. "You know how I mentioned a moment ago that I didn't really understand what you do. That was a colossal understatement. It's almost like you're running your own business!"

The rest of the class had begun entering the class while the two were talking. Mrs. Carter smiled again at Mart. "You're exactly right. Of course, that's in addition to my regular teaching job. Which I need to start right now."

In the Belden household that evening Trixie could barely restrain her excitement at the dinner table. "I can't believe that so much is starting to come together."

Mrs. Belden looked over at Mr. Belden before expressing their shared concern. "Trixie, dear, I don't want to sound like I'm trying to hold you back, but I'm just worried that you're setting yourself up for a huge disappointment if things don't turn out the way you hope."

"I know Moms, and I am trying to be more responsible about this project, just ask the boys. I think that's why I'm so exited."

"Well, as long as you know what the pitfalls are, I certainly don't want to hold you back. This does sound like a worthwhile project."

Even Bobby, normally unaware of much outside his own interests sat like a spectator at a tennis match as the conversation bounced back and forth between his older siblings.

"Mart, what's an aff- affil- whatever you said?"

Mart reached over to ruffle Bobby's hair. "An affiliation agreement, little dude, is a piece of paper that lets a student in school work at somebody's business and get a grade."

Bobby's cherubic face crinkled with concentration for a moment. "But I thought people got paid for working? Daddy does when he works at the bank."

"Of course he does sweetie," Trixie explained patiently. "But that's because he's an adult. Adults work for money. Kids don't have to, at least until they turn 16."

"But you get paid by Daddy for looking after me, and Mart gets paid for mowing the lawn, and Brian gets paid for working in the school cafeteria."

Trixie glanced over at her dad with a look that clearly said, "Help me!"

With a nod at Trixie, he tried to take over the explanation for the confused little boy. "That's true, but the money we pay to your brother and sister is really just our way of, I guess you can say, training all of you for when you are an adult. You'll get your turn too son."

Bobby sat at the dinner table looking more mystified than before. He poked his fork at the green beans on his plate, clearly attempting to figure things out for himself. Bobby adored his older brothers and sister and now that he was getting a little older, he wanted them to have a good opinion of him. Finally, looking more than a little downcast, Bobby was forced to admit failure. With a big gulp he glanced quickly to see who was listening. "But why do you have to train me? I thought that's what we do with Reddy. I'm not a dog - I'm a boy!"

"Of course you are," chuckled Mr. Belden. "I shouldn't have said that. What I mean is that by paying you an allowance, we're giving you practice for when you're all grown up."

"Oh, okay, but why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"Why indeed."