Gooney Bird and All Her Charms Read Free

announced.
    â€œWell,” Dr. Oglethorpe said, “he got it right. A human body does have two hundred and six bones. But if you try to count them on this skeleton, you won’t find that many. Some bones are so very tiny that it would have been too hard to include them. So this guy”—he patted the side of the skeleton fondly, and the bones clattered a bit—“is missing a few tiny ones, mostly in his feet and hands. But he has the most important ones.”
    â€œDr. O.! Dr. O.!” Beanie had a question. “What’s his name?”
    â€œA skeleton doesn’t have a name, stupid!” Malcolm said.
    â€œI am not stupid!” Beanie wailed. “I’m not, am I, Mrs. Pidgeon?”
    â€œOf course not, Beanie,” Mrs. Pidgeon said. “You came in first in the spelling bee last Friday, remember?” She patted Beanie’s shoulder. “And, Malcolm, we do not use that word in this classroom, remember?”
    â€œActually,” said the doctor, “he does have a name. My students gave it to him. They call him Napoleon. Can you guess why?”
    The children all thought. But no one had an answer, except Mrs. Pidgeon, who was laughing. “I bet his whole name is Napoleon Bony-Part, right?” she said, and Dr. Oglethorpe nodded.
    â€œNapoleon Bonaparte was a very famous French general,” Mrs. Pidgeon explained to the class.
    â€œWe could call him Bony for short,” suggested Ben.
    â€œNo,” Gooney Bird said solemnly. “He shouldn’t have a goofy name. We should be very respectful. He’s a very distinguished skeleton.” She stroked the long bone at the top of his left leg. Then she looked down and giggled a little. “He has big feet, though.”
    Dr. Oglethorpe picked up the empty box. “I must be off,” he said. “But I know I’m leaving Napoleon in good hands. Just be careful with him. You can take him down from the stand and seat him in a chair if you wish. His joints work well. See?” He demonstrated the joints, bending Napoleon’s left knee, then his right elbow. “His hip joint is really amazing. See this?” He pointed to Napoleon’s hip. “It’s a ball and socket. That’s why we can move our legs in all directions. We wouldn’t be able to dance if we didn’t have this fabulous hip joint.”
    Chelsea, who took ballet lessons, stood on her tiptoes and lifted one leg out to the side.
    Tyrone threw himself onto the floor beside his desk and did a few breakdancing moves.
    Mrs. Pidgeon did a hopping little sort of jig.
    â€œGood. You all have great hip joints! But be gentle with Napoleon. He doesn’t have a layer of fat to pad his bones the way we do.”
    â€œI bet that’s why he looks so skinny,” Ben said.
    â€œDr. O.? Dr. O.?” Tricia had a question, and the doctor nodded to her.
    â€œIf Napoleon had all the rest of him, I mean if he wasn’t just bones, if he had fat, and—what else?”
    â€œMuscles!” said Barry.
    â€œYes, if he had muscles and fat, and—skin?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œWould he be fat, or thin, or just medium?” Tricia asked.
    â€œGood question,” Dr. Oglethorpe said. “We have no way of knowing. Bones are the same in all people. We don’t know if Napoleon was a fatty or a skinny, or—”
    â€œSmart or dumb!” said Barry.
    â€œOr Japanese?” suggested Keiko.
    â€œAfrican American?” said Tyrone.
    â€œOr maybe he had bright red hair, like mine!” Gooney Bird pointed out.
    Dr. Oglethorpe laughed. “Or perhaps he was a baldy, like me.”
    â€œOr had a beard, like my dad,” suggested Ben.
    â€œCould be,” the doctor agreed. “We’ll never know.” He patted Napoleon on the shoulder. “Goodbye, pal,” he said. “Have a nice visit in second grade.”
    The class called a thank-you to Dr. Oglethorpe. Gooney