or sweaters on. It’s exactly sixty-five degrees outside, and the rules say students must wear jackets or sweaters when the temperature is below seventy. I’m sure you’ll remember that rule from now on.”
“I don’t think it’s a very good rule,” Mrs. Brisbane answered. “If the children play hard, they’ll get overheated, which is just as bad as being cold.”
Mrs. Wright did something funny with her eyebrows and they came down low over her eyes. I think that’s called a scowl. “If you don’t like the rules, then why don’t you make a proposal to change them? That’s why the principal has a suggestion box outside his office.”
“That’s a good idea,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “I think I will!”
The bell rang and Mrs. Wright left, thank goodness.
“Ooh!” Mrs. Brisbane made a fist and pretended to pound her forehead with it. “Maybe I wouldn’t miss this place so much after all!” she said. I think she was talking to herself, but I heard her say it.
“But we’d miss you!” I squeaked. “You have to stay!”
Mrs. Brisbane swung around to face my side of the room. “Humphrey, I hope you’re not agreeing with that woman.”
“NO-NO-NO!” I assured her.
All day long, I kept my eye on Heidi. Once she started to blurt out an answer, but I shouted, “Hands, please!” and even if she didn’t understand my squeaking, she got the message and raised her hand.
When the day was almost over, Mrs. Brisbane asked my friends to clean up their tables and the area around them. “We’ll be gone for a week for spring break,” she said. “We want to come back to a nice room.”
Spring break? Was something going to be broken? And where were we going for a whole week?
“Eek!” I squeaked.
Heidi’s hand shot up. My, I was proud. When Mrs. Brisbane called on her, she asked, “Where will Humphrey and Og spend vacation?”
“Humphrey and Og will be at my house,” the teacher answered. A few kids groaned, and she asked what was wrong.
“I wish I could have Humphrey for a whole week,” said Garth.
“Me, too,” Miranda agreed.
Knowing that Sweetums could get in Garth’s backyard and knowing that Miranda has a dangerous dog, Clem, living at her house made me VERY-VERY-VERY glad I was going home with Mrs. Brisbane.
I knew I’d be safe there and maybe—just maybe—a small hamster with a Plan could convince her to sign that contract and come back to Room 26.
All I needed was that Plan.
“Bert? Are you here?” Mrs. Brisbane opened the front door of the house. Bert didn’t seem to be around.
“I’ll bet he’s in the garage,” she said. She put my cage on the living room table. “I’d better bring Og in.”
It was nice to be back at the Brisbanes’ house. Next to my cage was a vase of pink and white flowers. Mrs. Brisbane always had flowers in her house—real ones. Soon, Og’s tank was next to me on the table.
“Nice to be back, hey, Oggy?” I asked my companion.
“BOING!” he twanged.
I do like visiting the Brisbanes, I really do. But the thought of never seeing my friends in Room 26 was still a worry.
If
Mrs. Brisbane didn’t sign that contract.
Mrs. Brisbane left again, and when she returned, her husband came in his wheelchair behind her. A smile now replaced the grumpy old frown he had the first time I saw him.
“My two favorite buddies!” he exclaimed when he saw us. “I’ve missed you.”
“You spend so much time in the garage, you wouldn’t know if they were here or not,” Mrs. Brisbane said in a teasing way.
“I used to spend my time cooped up in an office. I love having that whole garage all to myself,” he said. “I’ll have to show you my latest creation: a three-story birdhouse.”
Mr. Brisbane liked to make things. The best thing he’d made was my large cage extension with all kinds of wonderful places to hide, swing and climb.
“I guess you’re happy to have a break,” he said to Mrs. Brisbane.
“Yes, I am,” she said.
“I don’t think it’s a very good rule,” Mrs. Brisbane answered. “If the children play hard, they’ll get overheated, which is just as bad as being cold.”
Mrs. Wright did something funny with her eyebrows and they came down low over her eyes. I think that’s called a scowl. “If you don’t like the rules, then why don’t you make a proposal to change them? That’s why the principal has a suggestion box outside his office.”
“That’s a good idea,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “I think I will!”
The bell rang and Mrs. Wright left, thank goodness.
“Ooh!” Mrs. Brisbane made a fist and pretended to pound her forehead with it. “Maybe I wouldn’t miss this place so much after all!” she said. I think she was talking to herself, but I heard her say it.
“But we’d miss you!” I squeaked. “You have to stay!”
Mrs. Brisbane swung around to face my side of the room. “Humphrey, I hope you’re not agreeing with that woman.”
“NO-NO-NO!” I assured her.
All day long, I kept my eye on Heidi. Once she started to blurt out an answer, but I shouted, “Hands, please!” and even if she didn’t understand my squeaking, she got the message and raised her hand.
When the day was almost over, Mrs. Brisbane asked my friends to clean up their tables and the area around them. “We’ll be gone for a week for spring break,” she said. “We want to come back to a nice room.”
Spring break? Was something going to be broken? And where were we going for a whole week?
“Eek!” I squeaked.
Heidi’s hand shot up. My, I was proud. When Mrs. Brisbane called on her, she asked, “Where will Humphrey and Og spend vacation?”
“Humphrey and Og will be at my house,” the teacher answered. A few kids groaned, and she asked what was wrong.
“I wish I could have Humphrey for a whole week,” said Garth.
“Me, too,” Miranda agreed.
Knowing that Sweetums could get in Garth’s backyard and knowing that Miranda has a dangerous dog, Clem, living at her house made me VERY-VERY-VERY glad I was going home with Mrs. Brisbane.
I knew I’d be safe there and maybe—just maybe—a small hamster with a Plan could convince her to sign that contract and come back to Room 26.
All I needed was that Plan.
“Bert? Are you here?” Mrs. Brisbane opened the front door of the house. Bert didn’t seem to be around.
“I’ll bet he’s in the garage,” she said. She put my cage on the living room table. “I’d better bring Og in.”
It was nice to be back at the Brisbanes’ house. Next to my cage was a vase of pink and white flowers. Mrs. Brisbane always had flowers in her house—real ones. Soon, Og’s tank was next to me on the table.
“Nice to be back, hey, Oggy?” I asked my companion.
“BOING!” he twanged.
I do like visiting the Brisbanes, I really do. But the thought of never seeing my friends in Room 26 was still a worry.
If
Mrs. Brisbane didn’t sign that contract.
Mrs. Brisbane left again, and when she returned, her husband came in his wheelchair behind her. A smile now replaced the grumpy old frown he had the first time I saw him.
“My two favorite buddies!” he exclaimed when he saw us. “I’ve missed you.”
“You spend so much time in the garage, you wouldn’t know if they were here or not,” Mrs. Brisbane said in a teasing way.
“I used to spend my time cooped up in an office. I love having that whole garage all to myself,” he said. “I’ll have to show you my latest creation: a three-story birdhouse.”
Mr. Brisbane liked to make things. The best thing he’d made was my large cage extension with all kinds of wonderful places to hide, swing and climb.
“I guess you’re happy to have a break,” he said to Mrs. Brisbane.
“Yes, I am,” she said.
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