Oddfellow's Orphanage

Oddfellow's Orphanage by Emily Winfield Martin Page B

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Authors: Emily Winfield Martin
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Ollie.) Then came a smaller mama bear with a green ribbon around her neck. (“Greta,” said Ollie.) And behind them came a very clumsy, very little bear cub. He barked and pawed at his mother and galloped about the room like an especially furry small dog. (“And
he’s
just called the baby,” Ollie said with a shrug.)

    Hank followed the bears and clapped twice. Lucy and Louise ran to the old piano in the corner and began to play a waltz.
    At the sound of the claps and the out-of-tune waltz, the bears formed a line from biggest to smallest. Then they began to dance. They stood on one foot and spun around in circles. They shifted from one foot to the other, swaying. Finally, Boris the papa bear and Greta the mama bear began to waltz, just like two grown-up people.
    The baby bear, looking a little left out, wandered toward Delia.
    As he reached her, he did a somersault and landed at her feet. The little bear stood, the top of his head reaching Delia’s shoulder. He bowed clumsily. And Delia thought it was only polite to bow back. So she stood and bowed. Then she and the bear cub gazed at each other. Looking into the cub’s bright black eyes, Delia felt a flicker of understanding.
    It occurred to her that she had something in common with the bear: neither of them spoke—at least, not in the ordinary way.

    Delia offered the cub a small piece of toast with honey. He ate it right up. The two stood quietly for a moment, speaking with their eyes. Delia knew that the little bear was saying something nice to her, and she tried her best to say something nice back to him.
    Then came another sharp
clap! clap!
Hank said, “Thank you, bears, for welcoming our new student. Now it is time for breakfast!” With that, all three bears formed a line and, following Hank, bounded from the dining room.

A DAY OF UNUSUAL CLASSES
    B REAKFAST ended, and the children went to classes.
    At Oddfellow’s Orphanage,
nothing
was ordinary—for better or worse. This included the three classes the younger children attended every day. At other schools, students usually study things like math, reading, and science, but Oddfellow Bluebeard had rather different ideas about what subjects the children should learn, as Delia was about to find out.
    Black-haired Ava walked Delia to each classroom, which was very helpful. The first class was F. T. Studies, which was all about fairy tales and folktales. This class was taught by Professor Flockheart, who was plump and rosy, with light gray hair. She welcomed the children from atop a stepladder, where she was searching the dusty bookshelves. Delia looked aroundat the cozy classroom, full of painted murals of fairy-tale scenes. She smiled.
    Once everyone had settled down into their desks and Professor Flockheart had found Delia a rather scraggly set of books bound in green leather, the class began. They opened to the story of “Little Red Riding Hood,” which was illustrated with lovely pictures. The children took turns reading aloud.

    Midway through the story, the tattooed girl, Imogen, asked Professor Flockheart, “How could Little Red Riding Hood believe that a wolf in a bonnet was her grandmother?”
    “Perhaps she needed glasszes,” Professor Flockheart replied, which made everyone laugh.
    Delia half smiled, and read along silently as the other children took their turns. She grew more nervous as her turn got closer. When her turn came, Delia looked up at the professor and, covering her lips with her small white hand, shook her head.
    “I know, dear. Never to worry,” Professor Flockheart said, and began to read aloud herself.
    Class ended just before the woodsman arrived with his ax.
    NEXT there was a class in cryptozoology, which is the study of mysterious and possibly imaginary animals. This class was taught by Professor Silas, the youngest of the professors. He had messy red hair and wore big glasses made of thick tortoiseshell. Professor Silas was well liked for his field trips and his wondrous

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