Secrets According to Humphrey Read Free Page B

Artists. Each group was assigned to study one part of Egyptian life and do a project and a report on the subject.
    â€œWhat group would you want to be in ? ” I squeaked to Og during recess.
    He splished and splashed.
    â€œYou like water,” I said. “I guess you’d like to be a Trader so you could travel up and down the Nile.”
    It wasn’t easy for me to figure out what I’d like to be.
    I like writing in my notebook, so it would be fun to be a Scribe.
    Scribes wrote with a strange alphabet using little pictures instead of letters. They’re called
hieroglyphics
, a word that is pronounced
hire-oh-GLIFF-ix
and doesn’t rhyme with anything.
    On the other paw, it would be fun to be a Builder and make a model pyramid.
    The Traders were going to have a GREAT-GREAT-GREAT time building a model boat and learning how ancient Egyptians traded their goods for things they needed from other places.
    Oh, but the Artists would get to make all kinds of beautiful pots, jars and statues.
    Luckily, as classroom pets, Og and I got to see what all the groups were doing.
    We watched them huddling together in their groups, traveling back and forth to the library, planning and laughing. Suddenly, I remembered that
one of my classmates would soon be leaving!
    And when she’d heard about it, Mrs. Brisbane had said she couldn’t be happier.
    I’d be sad if any one of them left.
    I’d miss watching Helpful-Holly pass out homework and the big smile on Forgetful-Phoebe’s face when she remembered hers.
    I’d miss Rolling-Rosie popping wheelies in her wheelchair and the way Just-Joey likes to talk with me alone.
    Class would be duller without Calm-Down-Cassie and the way she blurts out, “Oh, no!” whenever something unexpected happens.
    How could Small-Paul get along without his best friend, Tall-Paul ? Or the other way around ?
    I’d certainly miss Fix-It-Felipe, who always knows how to fix a torn page or prop up a wobbly chair leg. (Although I worry that someday he’ll also fix my lock-that-doesn’t-lock.)
    Room 26 would be sad if anyone stopped coming every day. There wasn’t one student in Room 26 that I wouldn’t miss.
    And I hoped that there wasn’t one student in Room 26 who wouldn’t miss me!
    (Og, too, of course!)
    So, as the week went on, I watched my friends working in their groups and wondered which one would be going—and how my life and the lives of all my friends would change.

    On Friday, Mrs. Brisbane said, “I can’t remember who’s taking Humphrey home for the weekend.”
    Phoebe’s hand shot up so fast, it was a blur.
    â€œI am!” she shouted. “It’s my turn!”
    She was happy and so was I!
    Phoebe Pratt lived with her grandmother, Mrs. Lawson, while her parents were in a faraway country. I’d met her grandmother, who was an unsqueakably nice human. I was pretty sure I’d have a great weekend, unless Phoebe happened to have a large, fierce animal, such as a dog or a cat.
    â€œHumphrey, I hope you know how special you are,” Mrs. Lawson said when she came to pick us up after school. “My boss actually let me leave work early to pick you up.”
    â€œTHANKS-THANKS-THANKS,” I squeaked.
    â€œSee, Gran, he talks,” Phoebe explained.
    Gran laughed. “If you say so, Phoebe.”
    â€œBOING!” Og chimed in.
    â€œMay we take Og home, too ? ” Phoebe asked.
    â€œI’m afraid it’s too cold to take him outside to the car,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “He doesn’t have a fur coat like Humphrey.”
    â€œBOING-BOING.” Og dived into the water side of his tank and began to swim.
    â€œSorry, Og,” I said.
    Mrs. Lawson covered my cage with a small blanket and picked it up.
    â€œStay warm this weekend, Og!” I squeaked. “Bye!”
    I’m not sure he heard me through the blanket.

    Phoebe and her grandmother lived in an