The measure of true friendship is a ten-minute wait.
Setting out to find the tardy Gladys (""When people are lost, it's terrible if nobody looks for them""), Irving reflects on her selflessness and her staunchness. But as time passes, he wavers--""Maybe she won't show up until next winter. . . . And she'll find me stuck inside a big icicle. Then she'll be sorry."" And remembers his own unselfishness--""I let her name my goldfish Barbara even though it's a boy."" ""Say, maybe Gladys is looking for me right now. . . . Gladys will offer a reward for finding me. . . . I think I'll go back to where I was supposed to meet Gladys""--who's waiting with an outstretched popsicle.
In their own words, Marjorie Sharmat's small fry are all there--and in Edward Frascino's Central Park they could be anywhere too busy to notice them. - Kirkus Review
