Table of Contents
The new guy
On Friday, Mrs. Brisbane announced that Richie would be taking me home for the weekend.
Yay! Humphreys coming to the party, too, A.J. yelled.
Id never been to a party outside of Room 26 before. Overjoyed, I jumped on my wheel and spun as fast as I could.
BOING! Og croaked.
Oops! I realized that Og had not been invited to the party.
What about Og? asked Richie. Can he come, too?
Mrs. Brisbane shook her head. I think you have all you can handle. Besides, Im taking Og home with me. My husband is working on a surprise for him.
Eeek! I squeaked. It just slipped out. Mr. Brisbane, whom I hadnt even seen since Christmas, was working on a surprise for the frog? I could feel that green-eyed monster inside me again. I was jealous of a large lump with a ghastly grin and I wasnt proud of myself.
OTHER BOOKS YOU MAY ENJOY
Bartleby of the Mighty Mississippi
Birdbrain Amos
Bug Muldoon
The Heroic Adventures of
Hercules Amsterdam
The Tale of the Swamp Rat
The World According to Humphrey
Phyllis Shalant
Michael Delaney
Paul Shipton
Melissa Glenn Haber
Carter Crocker
Betty G. Birney
To Jane Birney de Leeuw,
sister and friend,
and to Humphreys BEST-BEST-BEST friend
and editor, Susan Kochan
Strange Change
BUMP-BUMP-BUMP!
Mrs. Brisbane and I were headed back to Longfellow School after the long winter holiday. But there were a lot more bumps in the road since the last time I rode in her small blue station wagon.
Now, Humphrey, Mrs. Brisbane said. She was interrupted by another BUMP! Dont be surprised. BUMP! If there are a few changes. BUMP! In Room Twenty-six. BUMP!
My stomach felt slightly queasy as I hung on tightly to my ladder, so I had a hard time understanding what she was telling me. What did she mean by changes?
While you were home with Bert. BUMP! I came back to school to get things all set.
I was home with her husband, Bert, a lot over the holidays, and as much as I like him, I was worn-out from running mazes a couple of times a day. Mr. Brisbane loves to watch me run mazes. At least back in school, I could catch forty winks once in a while. And since I am a classroom hamster, I belong in the classroom.
My stomach calmed down a bit as Mrs. Brisbane pulled her car into a parking space.
Now, what about these changes? I asked, but it came out as Squeak-squeak-squeak, as usual.
Its good to shake things up once in a while, Humphrey, Mrs. Brisbane assured me as she opened the car door. Youll see.
I was already shaken up from the bumpy ride. Then a blast of icy wind made me shiver and I couldnt see a thing because Mrs. Brisbane had thrown a wool scarf over my cage. I didnt mind, as long as I was on the way back to my classroom, where Id see all my friends again. Just thinking about them gave me a warm feeling. Or maybe it was the heat from the school furnace as we walked in the front door.
Hi, Sue! Are we on for today? a familiar voice called out. I couldnt see Miss Loomis, but I recognized her voice. Miss Loomis taught a class down the hall. She was also Mrs. Brisbanes friend.
Sure, Angie. How about after morning recess?
See you then, said Miss Loomis.
Finally, Mrs. Brisbane set my cage down in Room 26 and removed the scarf. When she did, I was in for a shock. Something unsqueakable had happened to my classroom! For one thing, the tables faced the wrong direction. They used to point toward the front of the room. Now they were sideways.
Instead of being arranged in neat rows like before, the tables were clumped together in groups. Mrs. Brisbanes desk had moved to the corner of the room. Pictures of people Id never seen before replaced the happy snow-men that had covered the bulletin board in December.
I was so dizzy from all the changes, I didnt notice the room filling up until Lower-Your-Voice-A.J. yelled, Hiya, Humphrey! as he came out of the cloakroom.
Soon, my other friends stopped by to say hello.
Did you have a good vacation? asked Miranda Golden. Miranda is an almost perfect human. Thats why I think of her as Golden-Miranda.
My mother says to tell you hi, Speak-Up-Sayeh said in her sweet, soft voice.
Hey, Humphrey-Dumpty, Garth shouted. That made Gail snicker, but I didnt mind. She laughed at everything.
At that moment, the bell rang. Class, look for your names and please take your seats now, Mrs. Brisbane said.
There was a lot of thumping and bumping as my classmates located their new seats. Now I had a better view of some of the students who used to sit on the opposite side of the room, like Dont-Complain-Mandy Payne, Sit-Still-Seth Stevenson and I-Heard-That-Kirk Chen. Maybe it is good to shake things up once in a while.
Then I noticed something odd. There was a stranger in Room 26, sitting near Sayeh, Gail and Kirk.
Mrs. Brisbane, she doesnt belong here! I squeaked out loud. Shes in the wrong room!
Maybe Mrs. Brisbane didnt hear me.
Class, as you can see, were making some changes this year. And one of our changes is our brand-new pupil, the teacher announced. Come here, Tabitha.
The new girl seemed SCARED-SCARED-SCARED as she got up and stood next to Mrs. Brisbane. This is Tabitha Clark and I want you all to welcome her. Tabitha, why dont you tell us something about yourself? The new girl looked down and shook her head. Mrs. Brisbane quickly turned back to the class. Well do that later. Now, who would like to be in charge of showing Tabitha around today?
Me! a voice called out. Of course, it was Raise-Your-Hand-Heidi Hopper, who always forgets to raise her hand.
Hands, please, Heidi. I think Mandy had her hand up first. Mandy, you will be Tabithas buddy. I expect each of you to introduce yourself to Tabitha and include her in your activities. She turned to the girl. I know youll make a lot of good friends in Room Twenty-six. You may sit down now.
The girl kept staring down at the floor as she returned to her seat. She looked as if she needed a friend. I was so busy watching her, I only half listened to what Mrs. Brisbane was saying. Was she really talking about poultry?
After all, this is Longfellow School, she said. And as I hope you know, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a famous American poet.
Poetry! Nothing to do with chickens or turkeys, thank goodness. I have to admit, Im a little scared of things with feathers, ever since my early days at Pet-O-Rama. I still have nightmares about the day a large green parrot escaped and flung himself at my cage, screeching, Yum, yum! Time to eat! Bawk! He was still shrieking as Carl, the store clerk, carried him away.
That unpleasant memory was interrupted when someone blurted, Im a poet and I dont know it. My feet show ittheyre long fellows.
I-Heard-That-Kirk, said Mrs. Brisbane. Now, as I was saying, much of this term will be spent reading and writing poetry.
The groans were loud. I guess some people are afraid of poetry, even without feathers.
Seth squirmed in his seat and pretended to pound his head on the table. Poetry, he moaned.
Sit-Still-Seth, said Mrs. Brisbane.
