School Days According to Humphrey Read Online Free Page A

I hope that dogs, cats and other large creatures will do the same.
    â€¢ I also try to remember to walk inside the school. But I have to admit, sometimes I roll (in my hamster ball).
    â€¢ I always use my inside voice because even when I shout, it’s not very loud.
    â€¢ And I treat people the way I’d like to be treated. At least I mean to .
    Then Mrs. Brisbane talked about the consequences of breaking the rules, which made my whiskers wiggle. A warning was bad enough, and so was a time-out. But a note home—eek! I thought that would be terrible until I realized that my home actually was Room 26. Next came a phone call home (but I don’t have a phone). And finally, a student who broke the rules again would be sent to the principal’s office.
    I liked Principal Morales a lot. But I didn’t think I’d like to have to go to his office and tell him I’d broken a rule. He’d be unsqueakably disappointed in me.
    I was imagining myself sitting in the principal’s office after breaking one of the rules when I suddenly heard Mrs. Brisbane say, “There is another rule in Room Twenty-six: All students must treat Humphrey and Og with the greatest respect.”
    My ears perked up.
    â€œDid you hear that, Og?” I squeaked. “She’s talking about us!”
    â€œBOING-BOING!” Og splashed around in his tank, which made the strange children laugh.
    Mrs. Brisbane explained that the students would get to take turns bringing me home for the weekend, but first they’d have to learn to take care of me. And while Og stayed in the classroom on weekends, because he didn’t need to be fed as often as I did, they would learn to take care of him as well.
    Then the teacher gathered the new group around my cage and put on some gloves so she could show them how to clean my cage.
    â€œWho wants to hold Humphrey?” she asked.
    Not surprisingly, LOTS-LOTS-LOTS of the new students volunteered.
    Mrs. Brisbane slowly and gently picked me up.
    â€œNever poke your finger in the cage,” she told the students. “Give Humphrey time to get used to you.”
    â€œWill he bite?” Phoebe asked nervously.
    â€œNo way!” I squeaked.
    â€œHumphrey hasn’t bitten anyone yet. But if someone poked a finger in his face, I wouldn’t blame him,” Mrs. Brisbane said.
    â€œWhen I had a hamster, he bit my finger,” Joey said. “But my mom said it was because he thought it was a carrot.”
    Mrs. Brisbane nodded. “And if you don’t wash your hands before handling a hamster, he might smell the food you’ve eaten and think you’re something to eat, too.”
    I don’t like to disagree with the teacher, but first of all, many humans have hands that don’t smell like anything I’d want to eat. And I’m smart enough to tell the difference between a carrot and a finger!
    â€œLet’s see. Why don’t you take him, Kelsey?” she said.
    Kelsey looked surprised.
    I’m sure I did, too. Kelsey looked like a nice girl, but it did seem as if she could be more careful.
    â€œHold him in your hand, like this.” Mrs. Brisbane transferred me to Kelsey’s outstretched hand. “Make him feel very safe. Cup your other hand over his head, like a little roof. I think he likes that.”
    I do like that, as a matter of fact.
    Kelsey was so excited to be holding me, her hand actually shook a little. I suddenly remembered about her broken arm and her broken leg and I hoped I wouldn’t end up being a broken hamster.
    â€œDon’t worry, Humphrey. I’ll be careful with you,” she whispered.
    I relaxed and so did she. The shaking stopped.
    â€œCan I pet him?” Simon asked.
    â€œGently,” Mrs. Brisbane told him.
    He stroked my back with his fingers. It felt unsqueakably nice.
    Then Mrs. Brisbane got busy cleaning my cage. She took everything out—even my water bottle—and put it all