Emily is entranced with her name (yes, pretty pleased with herself)--and disgusted/dismayed/deflated to discover, on the first day of school, another Emily in her class. In life, most of us have some warning: as her busmate puts it, ""You really thought you were the only Emily?"" Most of us, at a young age, know a couple of Stevens or Susans: as her father puts it, ""Lots of people share the same names. You'll get used to it."" But almost nobody gets to like it much, and at the start of school, it's especially discomfiting. Together, Davis and Shute give the situation a comic, cathartic spin. There's the ""one and only Emily""--so says her T-shirt--scrutinizing her namesake (""She didn't act at all like a real Emily"") and deciding to give her ""one more chance."" ""Hi, I'm Emily."" ""Me, too."" (And EMILY is sewn on the back of her sweater.) The resolution is sheer, rigged coincidence--but also a nice bit of bonding: the Emilys bring identical seashells for the next Show and Tell, and, after some consultation (the other Emily knows about listening to the sea-sound), they show them together. Warm and amusing--and totally without sitcom smirks.