there, too.
She looked over the counter at me.
“Well, well, well. Would you look who it is,” she said.
I looked down at myself. “Well, well, well. It looks like me,” I said kind of quiet.
The typing lady pointed at the blue chair.
The blue chair is where bad kids sit.Only I'm not even bad. But I still have to sit there sometimes.
I put my feet on the edge of the chair. And I hid my face in my knees.
If you don't hide your face, people can recognize yourself.
Finally, I peeked one eye at Principal's door.
And guess what? That guy was looking right back at me!
“Is that Junie B. Jones I see out there?” he asked.
I did a gasp.
’Cause Principal can even recognize me from one eyeball, apparently!
I went into his office. And I sat in the big wood chair.
Principal winked at me.
“I'm a little bit surprised to see you,Junie B.,” he said. “You haven't been sent here for quite some time.”
I nodded.
“I know it,” I said. “That's because my behavior has shown
considerable improvement.”
I pronounced the words very perfect.
“My teacher printed those words on my report card,” I said. “And guess what else showed improvement? My speaking, that's what. ’Cause I don't say
runned
anymore. And I don't say
thinked.
And I don't say
throwed.
Do you want to hear me say them right? Huh? Do you, Principal?”
I took a big breath.
“Ran, ran, ran, ran. Thought, thought, thought, thought. Threw, threw, threw, threw,” I said.
I smiled very proud.
“See? I told you. Mother says I am getting a better vocavulary,” I said.
“Voca
bu
lary,” said Principal.
“Whatever,” I said.
Principal smiled. “Yes. Well, I'm delighted with your improvements, Junie B.,” he said. “But if everything has gotten better, then why are you here?”
I wiggled in my chair very uncomfortable.
“Because it wasn't my fault, that's why,” I said.
“What
wasn't your fault?” said Principal.
I wiggled some more.
Then, finally, I told Principal about how my teacher made us write a graduation poem. And how she said the last word had to rhyme with blue.
“And so Paulie Allen Puffer rhymed the word
P.U.
,” I said. “But then Mrs. got very mad at him. Because she did not appreciate his behavior, young man. Only too bad for me. Because my brain thought of an even sillier poem. And my mouth couldn't hold it inside.”
Principal closed his eyes. He did some deep breaths.
“All right,” he said. “Let's hear it.”
I gulped very worried.
Then I made my voice real soft.
“Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Graduation is here …
And your feet smell like stink,” I said.
After that, Principal kept his eyes closed a real long time. And he did not say any words.
Then, very slow, he put his head down on his desk. And he started to laugh.
His laughing got louder and louder.
And so guess what? Then I started laughing, too!
“That poem was a beaut! Right, Principal? We are having ourselves a good chuckle over this, aren't we?”
Principal stopped laughing very fast. He raised his head again.
“No, Junie B. No. We are
not
having a good chuckle,” he said. “I'm sorry. Your poem caught me completely by surprise. But I never should have laughed like that.”
He crossed his arms at me.
“You
are
right about one thing, though,” he said. “Your poem is definitely silly. But silly things are not always appropriate to say in the classroom, are they? Your teacher made it clear that she didn't like what Paulie Allen had said, Junie B. But you called out your poem anyway.”
He made squinty eyes. “And please don't blame it on your mouth, okay? You know you could have held it inside.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don'tknow,” I said kind of quiet. “Maybe I could have.”
Principal tapped his fingers on his desk.
“It's a
very
serious matter to disobey a teacher, Junie B.,” he said. “And I want you to sit here and think about just how serious it is. Can you do that,
She looked over the counter at me.
“Well, well, well. Would you look who it is,” she said.
I looked down at myself. “Well, well, well. It looks like me,” I said kind of quiet.
The typing lady pointed at the blue chair.
The blue chair is where bad kids sit.Only I'm not even bad. But I still have to sit there sometimes.
I put my feet on the edge of the chair. And I hid my face in my knees.
If you don't hide your face, people can recognize yourself.
Finally, I peeked one eye at Principal's door.
And guess what? That guy was looking right back at me!
“Is that Junie B. Jones I see out there?” he asked.
I did a gasp.
’Cause Principal can even recognize me from one eyeball, apparently!
I went into his office. And I sat in the big wood chair.
Principal winked at me.
“I'm a little bit surprised to see you,Junie B.,” he said. “You haven't been sent here for quite some time.”
I nodded.
“I know it,” I said. “That's because my behavior has shown
considerable improvement.”
I pronounced the words very perfect.
“My teacher printed those words on my report card,” I said. “And guess what else showed improvement? My speaking, that's what. ’Cause I don't say
runned
anymore. And I don't say
thinked.
And I don't say
throwed.
Do you want to hear me say them right? Huh? Do you, Principal?”
I took a big breath.
“Ran, ran, ran, ran. Thought, thought, thought, thought. Threw, threw, threw, threw,” I said.
I smiled very proud.
“See? I told you. Mother says I am getting a better vocavulary,” I said.
“Voca
bu
lary,” said Principal.
“Whatever,” I said.
Principal smiled. “Yes. Well, I'm delighted with your improvements, Junie B.,” he said. “But if everything has gotten better, then why are you here?”
I wiggled in my chair very uncomfortable.
“Because it wasn't my fault, that's why,” I said.
“What
wasn't your fault?” said Principal.
I wiggled some more.
Then, finally, I told Principal about how my teacher made us write a graduation poem. And how she said the last word had to rhyme with blue.
“And so Paulie Allen Puffer rhymed the word
P.U.
,” I said. “But then Mrs. got very mad at him. Because she did not appreciate his behavior, young man. Only too bad for me. Because my brain thought of an even sillier poem. And my mouth couldn't hold it inside.”
Principal closed his eyes. He did some deep breaths.
“All right,” he said. “Let's hear it.”
I gulped very worried.
Then I made my voice real soft.
“Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Graduation is here …
And your feet smell like stink,” I said.
After that, Principal kept his eyes closed a real long time. And he did not say any words.
Then, very slow, he put his head down on his desk. And he started to laugh.
His laughing got louder and louder.
And so guess what? Then I started laughing, too!
“That poem was a beaut! Right, Principal? We are having ourselves a good chuckle over this, aren't we?”
Principal stopped laughing very fast. He raised his head again.
“No, Junie B. No. We are
not
having a good chuckle,” he said. “I'm sorry. Your poem caught me completely by surprise. But I never should have laughed like that.”
He crossed his arms at me.
“You
are
right about one thing, though,” he said. “Your poem is definitely silly. But silly things are not always appropriate to say in the classroom, are they? Your teacher made it clear that she didn't like what Paulie Allen had said, Junie B. But you called out your poem anyway.”
He made squinty eyes. “And please don't blame it on your mouth, okay? You know you could have held it inside.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don'tknow,” I said kind of quiet. “Maybe I could have.”
Principal tapped his fingers on his desk.
“It's a
very
serious matter to disobey a teacher, Junie B.,” he said. “And I want you to sit here and think about just how serious it is. Can you do that,
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