The Trouble With Bernie

He placed the hive, which was in a brown paper bag, on one of the classroom shelves, then crossed his fingers and hoped for the best. Right away he felt better. Plus, he was wearing his lucky shirt, so he was pretty sure that things couldn’t go too wrong.

“Good morning, class!” boomed Mrs. Broadbottom, as she took her place at the blackboard. She had a kind of half-smile, half-snarl on her face. “I would like you all to take out pencil and paper. Write your name clearly at the top of the page. We’re going to have a spelling test.” She folded her hands ever so gracefully at her waist and allowed a peaceful look to transform her face.

Geraldine McCutchin raised her hand and in a tiny voice said, “But Miss Jamison always gives us our spelling tests on Friday.”

“Perhaps you hadn’t noticed,” said Mrs. Broadbottom, “but I am not Miss Jamison. Also, you’ve had all these words before, so I’m sure you know them perfectly and won’t have any trouble spelling them correctly.” All the kids reached for pencil and paper.

“Ready? First word: trouble. As in, ‘I do not want to annoy the teacher and get myself into trouble.’”
Pencil scratchings could be heard throughout the classroom.

“Second word: punished. If I get into trouble, I expect to be punished.

“Third word: apologize. A good child is quick to apologize.”