Adventure According to Humphrey

by Betty G. Birney

  “You look like you have an idea,” Mr. Fitch said to Speak-Up-Sayeh.

  I stood up extra high on my tiptoes to see my shy friend.

  “Well,” she said in a soft voice, “I think it’s because it’s spread out and there’s more water underneath it to hold the weight.”

  Leave it to Sayeh to say something clever. I was so glad she wasn’t too shy to speak up anymore.

  “Bingo!” Mr. Fitch said. Even though I thought Bingo was a dog in a song, I knew he was telling her it was the right answer. It just had to be. There was more to whether something floats or not than just how much it weighs. Once again, I’d learned something new, which is the amazing thing about school.

  “Let’s try some more stuff,” said Heidi, without raising her hand again.

  I thought it was a GREAT-GREAT-GREAT idea, but suddenly a loud voice that did not belong to A.J. said, “Excuse me for interrupting. I need to check the temperature.”

  I recognized that voice right away. It was big. It was bossy. It was, of course, the voice of Mrs. Wright. Who else but Mrs. Wright would be checking the temperature of the library? It wasn’t even sick!

  “Is something wrong, Mrs. Wright?” the librarian asked.

  “I believe the temperature control is not working properly,” she said. “And as the new chairperson of the Committee for School Property, I need to keep track.”

  Mrs. Wright taught physical education at Longfellow School. Thank goodness she didn’t teach in Room 26. In physical education, they play all kind of games and sports, which have rules.

  Mrs. Wright loved rules.

  Mrs. Wright loved her whistle.

  Mrs. Wright didn’t love me.

  “Come on in,” Mr. Fitch said.

  Mrs. Wright scurried across the room in her puffy white shoes. She headed for the temperature control on the wall. But before she reached it, her puffy white shoes stopped right in their tracks next to the edge of my table.

  “What is it doing in here?” she asked huffily.

  “It?” asked Mr. Fitch. “What’s an it?”

  It was pretty clear what “it” Mrs. Wright was talking about. She was staring right at me.

  “The rat,” she said.

  Mrs. Brisbane quickly corrected her. “Hamster.”

  “Whatever,” Mrs. Wright replied. “He doesn’t belong in the library.”

  Mr. Fitch smiled. “Because he’s not a book?”

  “Because he’s out of his cage. It’s unsanitary! What about his waste? Where will that go?”

  It was very quiet in the library until suddenly Kirk laughed. “She means his poo!” he said.

  The word poo started the rest of the class laughing out loud. Heidi and Gail giggled. Kirk and Richie rolled their eyes and elbowed each other. Even Miranda and Sayeh chuckled. Mr. Fitch bit his lip, while Mrs. Brisbane shook her head.

  My poo is just a part of life, but for some reason, it makes children giggle. And it sometimes makes grown-ups nervous. I don’t know why, because I keep my poo FAR-FAR-FAR away from my food and everything else in my cage. In my view, you won’t find a cleaner animal than a hamster.

  Mrs. Brisbane took two steps toward Mrs. Wright. “What waste?” she asked. “I don’t see any waste.”

  “You know,” said Mrs. Wright.

  “Weren’t you here to check the temperature?” asked Mrs. Brisbane, looking Mrs. Wright right in the eyes. “It does feel a little chilly in here.”

  That caught Mrs. Wright off guard. “Really? I thought it was a little warm,” she said, hurrying toward the temperature control.

  While Mrs. Wright fiddled with the control, Mrs. Brisbane continued talking to us. “Class, we’ll be returning to Room 26 now. But we’ll be coming back soon because Mr. Fitch will be helping us with the new unit we’re beginning,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it a little later today.”

  Surprisingly, Sayeh raised her hand. Mrs. Brisbane called on her right away.

  “Could we please check out some books?” she asked in her sweet, soft voice.

  Mrs. Brisbane and Mr. Fitch exchanged looks. Then they both nodded.

  “Okay,” said Mr. Fitch. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

  Did you ever cross your fingers and HOPE-HOPE-HOPE for something special? I don’t actually have fingers, so I closed my eyes, crossed my toes (both sets) and made my wish.

  Wishes are funny. Most of the time, they don’t come true. Sometimes they come true and later you wish they hadn’t! But once in a while, you make a wish and it happens and it’s a good thing. That’s what happened in the library. I wished that Mrs. Brisbane would pick the pirate book about Jolly Roger. I couldn’t check it out because I don’t have a library card.

  And what do you know—she did!

  “YES-YES-YES!” I exclaimed as Garth carried me out in my hamster ball. I was so happy that when I saw Mrs. Wright leaning in over the temperature control as I left, she didn’t even worry me.

  Not very much, anyway.

  My next wish came true after lunch when Mrs. Brisbane began reading that book to us. The full title was Jolly Roger’s Guide to Life, and it was about a boy and a girl named Violet and Victor who are sent to spend the summer with their mysterious uncle J.R. You can imagine their surprise—and mine—when he turns out to be a pirate called Jolly Roger and he decides to teach them to be pirates, too! Then they set sail to find lost pirate treasure. My fur tingled and I was hanging on every word when the teacher suddenly closed the book.

  The other students groaned and I was unsqueakably disappointed until Mrs. Brisbane said she wanted to tell us exciting news.

  “Og, did you hear?” I squeaked with delight. “Exciting news.”

  “BOING!” my neighbor answered in his odd, twangy voice that green frogs like him have, but he didn’t sound particularly excited.

  “The reason we talked about what floats is that tomorrow, we’ll start a project about sailing,” she said. “We’ll be doing sailing problems in math and science, and then you’ll start building your own model sailboats.”

  My friends murmured excitedly while Mrs. Brisbane paused and then cleared her throat.

  “Three weeks from tomorrow, if the weather is good, we’ll go to Potter’s Pond for a contest to see which of your sailboats can get across the water first. We’ll have a picnic and prizes and maybe . . .” Mrs. Brisbane paused again. “Hidden treasure!”

  Potter’s Pond. Picnic. Prizes. Treasure! My heart pounded at the possibilities, and my classmates’ cheers were almost deafening.

  “What are the prizes?” Heidi asked.

  “Raise-Your-Hand-Heidi,” Mrs. Brisbane answered. “The prizes will be a surprise.”

  My friends groaned again, and I let out a bit of a squeak myself.

  By afternoon, Mrs. Brisbane had written the rules for the sailboat contest on the chalkboard.

  1. Each student will work with a partner.

  2. The boat must be powered by the wind; no batteries or remote controls can be used.

  3. All students will be given the same materials for their boats, but they will be allowed to add one item of their choosing (except batteries).

  4. Materials will include wood, cardboard, cloth, paint, glue, markers and other art supplies.

  5. The first boat to make it from the starting point to the opposite shore of Potter’s Pond will win the grand prize for Most Seaworthy.

  6. There will be a prize for Most Beautiful Boat.

  At the end of the day, my friends were still chattering away about sailboats as they rushed out of class.

  Once the coast was clear, I shouted to my neighbor. “Og? Did you hear all that? She said all students. I wonder if . . .” I didn’t dare finish that thought. Most of the time, I did everything my friends in Room 26 did, like taking tests and learning new things. Sometimes we even had games or parties, and I was right there with the rest of them.

  But sometimes, I was left out. Recess. Lunch. PE. Field trips. Still, I could hope.


  I was so busy hoping, I didn’t realize that it was nighttime until the door flew open. The lights came on and a familiar voice said, “Give a cheer, ’cause Aldo’s here!”

  “Greetings, Aldo!” I answered as he wheeled in his cleaning cart. “Did you hear about our wonderful contest?” As usual, all that came out was SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK.

  I’m not sure if he understood me, but as he cleaned the room, he noticed the vocabulary words on one chalkboard and the rules for the contest on the other.

  “So that’s what you’re worked up about, Humphrey!” he said with a hearty laugh. “I’d like to be part of that!”

  “Me too!” I answered, and Og splashed wildly.

  “That gives me a great idea!” Aldo announced.

  I waited breathlessly for him to say more. Instead, he started sweeping up the aisles of the classroom. Occasionally, I’d hear him chuckle, but I had no idea what he was thinking.

  “Squeak up!” I finally insisted.

  “You’ll see,” Aldo answered. “All in good time.”

  “What was that all about?” I asked Og after Aldo was gone.

  “BOING-BOING!” Og replied. Then he leaped into the water side of his tank. While he was splishing and splashing, I daydreamed about life on the open sea, riding the waves, going up and down and up and down. (I stopped thinking about that when my tummy got a little queasy.) If I had a boat, I could sail the seven seas! I could sail anywhere in the world. I could even sail to far-off Brazil, where Ms. Mac lived.

  Ms. Mac! She was my first human friend, and what a friend she was. She was full of life with her bouncy black curls, her big happy smile, her large dark eyes. She was also adventurous. She even took me on a bike ride once, and at night, she liked to play bongo drums. Life with Ms. Mac was THE BEST.

  Then she broke my heart when Mrs. Brisbane came back to Room 26 and Ms. Mac left for Brazil. A broken heart hurts a lot. Sure, she sent us letters and pictures, but it wasn’t like seeing her every day. At first, I didn’t think I’d ever squeak to her again. But by now, my heart wasn’t exactly broken. It was just sprained. And I’d be GLAD-GLAD-GLAD if I could see her again.

  I don’t think Ms. Mac meant to break my heart.

  I do think Ms. Mac would be glad to see me again, too.

  Funny how a book about pirates gets you thinking about all kinds of crazy things.

  Even love.

  There be treasures aplenty in the deep, if ye dare look!

  From JOLLY ROGER’S GUIDE TO LIFE,

  by I.C. Waters

  3

  Portrait of a Hamster

  BOATS-BOATS-BOATS! Just about all we talked about in Room 26 had to do with boats. There was a math problem about a boat race and a history lesson about the Vikings, who were great sailors and wore impressive hats with horns on them. There were also those lovely vocabulary words.

  And there was the story. Every day, Mrs. Brisbane read another exciting chapter from the book. Uncle Jolly Roger, who did seem unusually jolly for a pirate, taught Vic and Vi (that’s what he called Victor and Violet) all kinds of wonderful things about sailing. They even had a run-in with a huge whale!

  That part of the story gave I-Heard-That-Kirk the chance to tell this joke:

  “What do you call a baby whale? A little squirt!” We all chuckled at that.

  So, in just a few short days, I went from never thinking about boats to thinking about them all the time. There were so many kinds of wonderful boats, from rowboats you move with oars and muscles to sailboats and tall ships powered by the wind. Then there were motorboats, yachts, tugboats and ferries, which all have engines. And there were the great ships powered by steam. Mrs. Brisbane brought in more books about boats and put up huge posters on the wall.

  It would be hard to choose a favorite, but the Chinese junk did catch my eye. That boat isn’t junk at all, but a beautiful craft with colorful sails. I could almost feel the sea breeze tickle my whiskers whenever I looked at the picture.

  In the evenings, I tried to talk to Og about boats and pirates and treasure, but as soon as I’d bring up the subject, he’d dive into his tank and swim around. Maybe he was trying to tell me that he didn’t need a boat to make his way through the water.

  I was a little jealous, although I still wouldn’t want to be a frog. As nice as Og is, he has googly eyes, green skin and no nice soft fur at all!

  I occupied my spare time by drawing pictures of boats in my little notebook. I must admit, my drawing of the SS Golden Hamster, complete with a hamster flag, was quite impressive.

  On Friday, it was time to find out which of my friends would take me home for the weekend. “Do you have the permission slip, Gail?” Mrs. Brisbane asked.

  Gail pulled a slightly crumpled paper out of her pocket. “Here it is!” she said with a giggle.

  So I was going home with Gail. Since Gail loved to laugh so much, I was bound to have a fun weekend. Yippee! I was happy to see that she was also taking home a stack of books about boats.

  Gail’s mom, Mrs. Morgenstern, came to pick us up. She was a colorful human who wore blue jeans, an orange sweater with red flowers on it, a yellow cap and high red boots. Her hair was in a long braid halfway down her back.

  “You know what, Humphrey? I think I’m going to paint you this weekend,” she said.

  Oh, dear! Mrs. Morgenstern seemed like a nice person, but the thought of being all covered in wet and messy paint didn’t sound fun to me.

  “It won’t be easy,” Gail warned her. “He won’t stand still.”

  Mrs. Morgenstern just smiled. “I’ll find a way.”

  As she carried me out of the classroom, I squeaked to Og, “Wish me luck, Oggy boy! I don’t know what color I’ll be when I come back! Maybe green, like you!”

  “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og sounded a little upset. Maybe he liked being the only green creature in Room 26.

  When we got to the house, instead of painting me, Gail’s mom gave me some carrots and gently set my cage on the nightstand in Gail’s room.

  When we were alone, Gail curled up on her bed with her stack of books.

  Suddenly, there was a thundering sound, like a herd of wild horses, coming into the room.

  “Humphrey!”

  It was Gail’s brother, Simon. I’d met him once before when I’d stayed at the house. He was just about as tall as Gail, but she still called him her little brother.

  “How’s it going, Humphrey? What’s new? What’s happening? Look at your wheel! Can I feed you? Want out of your cage?”

  That was how Simon talked. Fast.

  “Simon! Humphrey’s my class hamster. I’ll feed him and take care of him,” Gail scolded him.

  “Aw, I just wanted to say hi. Hiya, Humphrey!” Then Simon made a funny face, sticking his teeth out and holding his hands up in front of him. “See, I’m a hamster, too.”

  “You’re an idiot,” said Gail. “Go away.”

  “Okay,” said Simon. “But I’ll be back!”

  As he hurried out of the room, Gail let out a big sigh. “My brother,” she groaned.

  She made a brother sound like a very bad thing. And yet, to a hamster who lives alone in a cage with a frog for a neighbor who doesn’t even squeak, having a brother seemed like a very nice thing.

  I decided to cheer Gail up with a new trick I’d taught myself. Instead of getting on my wheel and spinning it, I lay down on my back underneath it, then reached my paws up and made the wheel spin with my feet.

  You’d better believe Stop-Giggling-Gail couldn’t stop giggling at that until there was a knock at the door and Gail’s mom peeked into the room. “May I come in?”

  Mrs. Morgenstern entered, carrying a stack of boxes, with a lot of colorful bags hanging from her arms.

  “Guess who went shopping today?” she asked.

  I guessed Gail’s mom did . . . and I was right. She dumped the boxes and bags on Gail’s bed.

  “Wait till you see,” she said, excitedly opening the boxes. “I got you the cu
test outfits! Look at this darling skirt!”

  She held up a skirt with blue, pink, yellow and green stripes on it. “It will look great on you.”

  Gail wrinkled her nose. “But Mom, I like pants for school. I mean, at recess . . .”

  “Well, these tights go underneath.” Mrs. Morgenstern held up a bright pink pair. She rummaged around in a bag. “I bought three skirts. One with stripes, one with stars and one with flowers.”

  “But Mom . . . I don’t like skirts,” Gail repeated.

  “Try something new, dear.” Mrs. Morgenstern pulled out a fuzzy-looking sweater. “Like this!”

  Personally, I like fuzzy things, like hamsters, but Gail ran her hand over the sweater and said it looked itchy.

  “Just try it.” Gail’s mom then reached over and opened a box. “I had another brilliant idea today,” she announced. “We’re going to redo your room!”

  Gail blinked hard. “Again?”

  “In with the new, out with the old,” her mom said with a smile.

  “But we just painted it last year,” Gail reminded her. “And I like the blue and white stripes.”

  “Two years ago,” said her mom. “It’s something we can do together. It will be fun! We’ll give it a whole new look. You and I could paint a mural. We could make the whole room like the universe with all the planets. Or the whole room could look like the ocean. Or . . .”

  Gail sighed. “I just got used to my room the way it is.”

  Mrs. Morgenstern reached out and patted Gail’s face. “Honey, try and open up to new things. Change is good!”

  Gail didn’t answer. She just stared down at her blue bedspread.

  Her mom frowned. “Tell you what. I’ll leave these samples here and you look at them. And think about a mural, okay? Just think about it.”

  “Sure, Mom,” Gail replied.

  Gail didn’t seem very excited about painting her room. But I thought it was a much better idea than painting me.

  After Mrs. Morgenstern left, Gail stared at her striped walls for a while. She pushed the paint samples aside and picked up one of her books. She turned a lot of pages, then suddenly held up her book to my cage.