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Authors: Betty G. Birney
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talk,” she said.
“But I can if you’d just listen,” I told her.
“I bet you’d have a lot to tell us,” Miranda continued, not understanding my squeaks.
Yes, I do, I thought. Enough to fill a book.
TIP NINE: Hamsters do not enjoy contact with other animals. A cat or dog may eat a hamster or at least do it bodily harm.
Guide to the Care and Feeding of Hamsters, Dr. Harvey H. Hammer
10
Garth Versus A.J.
I f you have dogs or cats, you have to be very careful not to let them get near Humphrey,” Miranda warned the rest of the class when we returned to Room 26.
“You can say that again,” I squeaked. But she didn’t.
I still considered Golden-Miranda to be a special friend and I had a very clean cage to show for my weekend, as well as a new respect for rubber bands. But I also decided that even though Miranda is practically a perfect person, I was not in a hurry to stay with her again.
A.J. raised his hand and Mrs. Brisbane called on him.
“May I have Humphrey this weekend? We don’t have a dog or a cat,” he bellowed.
“Lower-Your-Voice-A.J. I’ll let you know on Thursday. There may be other students who want Humphrey as well.”
At least half the hands in the classroom went up as kids started shouting, “Me, me!” I was quite flattered. But for some reason, the whole subject seemed to make Garth mad.
Within minutes, he shot a rubber band at A.J.
“Ouch!” A.J. complained loudly. When he told the teacher what had happened, Garth denied it.
“Humphrey did it,” he said.
Gail giggled. Mrs. Brisbane did not. “I don’t believe a hamster can shoot a rubber band,” she said sternly. A lot she knows!
The next day, Garth stuck his foot out and tripped Art as he went to sharpen his pencil.
“I didn’t do it! He’s just clumsy,” Garth protested when Mrs. Brisbane angrily scolded him.
That same day, Garth pushed Gail at morning recess. He spent afternoon recess inside.
“Garth Tugwell, you’re halfway to Principal Morales’s office right now.” Mrs. Brisbane sounded really angry.
Garth just shrugged his shoulders.
On Wednesday, Garth sneaked back into the room while Mrs. Brisbane went to the office during recess, and he headed straight for my cage. The two of us were all alone in the room.
“Hello, rat. Why don’t you just run away? Then nobody will take you home on the weekend,” he said. He opened my cage door and grabbed me. “You’d like your freedom, wouldn’t you, rat?”
He set me on the floor. My heart was pounding. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
“Go on, rat. Skedaddle.” He gave me a little push with his hand.
I scampered under the table. I wanted to say something, but for the first time ever, I was scared squeakless.
“Have fun,” he said, and in an instant he was gone.
I was pretty confused. For one thing, I didn’t want to run away. I was perfectly happy staying in Room 26 and having adventures on the weekend.
Where would I go? What would I do?
There was no time to waste. I scampered over to the cord that hung down from the blinds and grabbed on to it. Then I started the old swinging routine, back and forth, swinging a little higher each time until I reached the tabletop. Back-forth-back-forth-back-forth . . . leap! There wasn’t time to think about my queasy stomach as I raced into my cage, slamming the door shut behind me.
Just then, Mrs. Brisbane returned. I darted into my sleeping house so she wouldn’t see how hard I was breathing.
I saw her look at the window, puzzled. She walked over to it and stared at the blind cord, which was still swinging. She reached out and stopped it with her hand. Then she shook her head and walked away.
When recess was over and my classmates filed back into the class, Garth looked over at my cage, half smiling. But that smile quickly disappeared when he saw that the door was closed. He leaped out of his seat and looked in my cage.
“Howdy,” I squeaked at him.
“Garth, please get back in your seat,” Mrs.
“But I can if you’d just listen,” I told her.
“I bet you’d have a lot to tell us,” Miranda continued, not understanding my squeaks.
Yes, I do, I thought. Enough to fill a book.
TIP NINE: Hamsters do not enjoy contact with other animals. A cat or dog may eat a hamster or at least do it bodily harm.
Guide to the Care and Feeding of Hamsters, Dr. Harvey H. Hammer
10
Garth Versus A.J.
I f you have dogs or cats, you have to be very careful not to let them get near Humphrey,” Miranda warned the rest of the class when we returned to Room 26.
“You can say that again,” I squeaked. But she didn’t.
I still considered Golden-Miranda to be a special friend and I had a very clean cage to show for my weekend, as well as a new respect for rubber bands. But I also decided that even though Miranda is practically a perfect person, I was not in a hurry to stay with her again.
A.J. raised his hand and Mrs. Brisbane called on him.
“May I have Humphrey this weekend? We don’t have a dog or a cat,” he bellowed.
“Lower-Your-Voice-A.J. I’ll let you know on Thursday. There may be other students who want Humphrey as well.”
At least half the hands in the classroom went up as kids started shouting, “Me, me!” I was quite flattered. But for some reason, the whole subject seemed to make Garth mad.
Within minutes, he shot a rubber band at A.J.
“Ouch!” A.J. complained loudly. When he told the teacher what had happened, Garth denied it.
“Humphrey did it,” he said.
Gail giggled. Mrs. Brisbane did not. “I don’t believe a hamster can shoot a rubber band,” she said sternly. A lot she knows!
The next day, Garth stuck his foot out and tripped Art as he went to sharpen his pencil.
“I didn’t do it! He’s just clumsy,” Garth protested when Mrs. Brisbane angrily scolded him.
That same day, Garth pushed Gail at morning recess. He spent afternoon recess inside.
“Garth Tugwell, you’re halfway to Principal Morales’s office right now.” Mrs. Brisbane sounded really angry.
Garth just shrugged his shoulders.
On Wednesday, Garth sneaked back into the room while Mrs. Brisbane went to the office during recess, and he headed straight for my cage. The two of us were all alone in the room.
“Hello, rat. Why don’t you just run away? Then nobody will take you home on the weekend,” he said. He opened my cage door and grabbed me. “You’d like your freedom, wouldn’t you, rat?”
He set me on the floor. My heart was pounding. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
“Go on, rat. Skedaddle.” He gave me a little push with his hand.
I scampered under the table. I wanted to say something, but for the first time ever, I was scared squeakless.
“Have fun,” he said, and in an instant he was gone.
I was pretty confused. For one thing, I didn’t want to run away. I was perfectly happy staying in Room 26 and having adventures on the weekend.
Where would I go? What would I do?
There was no time to waste. I scampered over to the cord that hung down from the blinds and grabbed on to it. Then I started the old swinging routine, back and forth, swinging a little higher each time until I reached the tabletop. Back-forth-back-forth-back-forth . . . leap! There wasn’t time to think about my queasy stomach as I raced into my cage, slamming the door shut behind me.
Just then, Mrs. Brisbane returned. I darted into my sleeping house so she wouldn’t see how hard I was breathing.
I saw her look at the window, puzzled. She walked over to it and stared at the blind cord, which was still swinging. She reached out and stopped it with her hand. Then she shook her head and walked away.
When recess was over and my classmates filed back into the class, Garth looked over at my cage, half smiling. But that smile quickly disappeared when he saw that the door was closed. He leaped out of his seat and looked in my cage.
“Howdy,” I squeaked at him.
“Garth, please get back in your seat,” Mrs.
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