Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom by Louis Sachar

Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom by Louis Sachar

Author:Louis Sachar
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-12-04T00:00:00+00:00


17

The Best Principal Ever!!!

Mrs. Jewls went from desk to desk, handing back everyone’s history homework. “Nice job, Eric,” she said to one of the Erics. “Well done, Eric,” she said to another. “You better study the history of cabbage,” she told the third Eric. “The Ultimate Test is coming.”

The third Eric, naturally, was Eric Ovens. He thought he knew all about the history of cabbage, and felt bad when he saw his homework grade. Then he realized that Mrs. Jewls had given him Eric Bacon’s paper by mistake.

It turned out Eric Bacon had Eric Fry’s homework, and Eric Fry had his.

They switched papers.

Mrs. Jewls moved on. “Nice job, Deedee, although your paper smelled somewhat strange.”

She stopped at Jason’s desk and shook her head. “I was very disappointed, Jason.”

“Sorry,” Jason muttered. He could barely hold his head up. “I was up all night reading.”

“He’ll never finish his book, Mrs. Jewls,” said Allison.

Suddenly, the classroom door swung open and banged against the wall. Everyone turned to see Mr. Kidswatter.

“Good morning, children,” he said.

They stared at him. He had never been inside their classroom before.

Mr. Kidswatter loudly cleared his throat. “I said, ‘Good morning, children . . .’”

Mrs. Jewls hurried to the front of the room. She waved her hands like an orchestra conductor.

“Good morning, Mr. Kidswatter,” the children said in unison.

The principal smiled. “What’s all this?” he asked, pointing to the twenty-seven plastic containers stacked against the wall.

“Toenails,” said Paul.

“Also fingernails,” added Leslie so the principal wouldn’t think the class was weird.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re doing important work here,” said Mr. Kidswatter.

“Would you like to donate a toenail, or maybe a fingernail?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

Mr. Kidswatter curled his fingers as he examined his nails. “No, I’m still using mine. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I’m looking for a student to bang the gong on Friday. I figured I’d start at the top, and work my way down, until I found someone willing to—”

Every arm shot up in the air. Calls of “Pick me” and “Ooh, ooh” could be heard from around the room.

“Oh,” said Mr. Kidswatter. “I guess it won’t take as long as I thought.”

“Me, me,” begged Bebe, stretching her arm high.

“No, me, me!” urged Deedee.

It was impossible to know where Mr. Kidswatter was looking. He wore mirrored sunglasses, even indoors.

Joy had both hands raised, doubling her chances of being picked. “You’re the best principal ever!!!” she called out.

Mr. Kidswatter’s head turned. “YOU!!!” he boomed, pointing his finger.

Everybody groaned, except for the one person he had chosen.

“Me?” Stephen asked meekly.

“You?” asked Mr. Kidswatter, sounding somewhat surprised. “Yes, you!” he declared. “I chose you, didn’t I? And I don’t make mistakes!”

He strode toward Stephen, then placed his big hands on both sides of Stephen’s desk and leaned over. “Be in my office on Friday, at two minutes before three o’clock!” he ordered. “You will get one, and only one, swing of the mallet, so you better not miss! You must hit the very center of the gong, at exactly three o’clock.



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