“That’s mine!” squeaked the Squirrel. “Stirring is my job. Give that back!” “You’re much too small.” snapped the Cat. “We’ll cook the way we always have.” But the Duck held on tight... until the Squirrel tugged with all his might... and -WHOOPS!- the spoon spun through the air, and bopped the Cat on the head. Then there was trouble, a horrible squabble, a row, a racket, a rumpus in the old white cabin.
“All I had to do was fly over it for it to be mine forever. I can wear it like a giant diamond necklace, or just fly above it and marvel at its sparkling beauty. I can fly-yes, fly. Me, Cassie Louise Lightfoot, only eight years old and in the third grade, and I can fly. That means I am free to go wherever I want for the rest of my life.”