The Noise Expert

We each have special talents.
That is what our teachers tell.
Matthew is a whiz in math.
Sabrina does spelling well.

Drew’s the best at Double Dutch.
Sam spits farthest of the boys.
But Tammy’s skill tops them all.
She’s a pro at making noise.

She slaps her cheeks, clicks her teeth.
Her belches are seconds long.
And with hands in her armpits,
She trumpets a catchy song.

She whistles through her fingers,
Or into a blade of grass.
She can blow on her forearm,
Imitating passing gas.

Her knuckles crack like gunshots.
Her two palms squeal with a squeeze.
Fingers snap like castanets,
She plays drum rolls on her knees

My report cards show straight A’s,
I play soccer like a star.
What’s that to Tammy’s talent?
Someday that girl will go far.

Poker Chips

Adam Story left 24 poker chips, one in each time zone, during his trip around the world. Someday if you're traveling in France or Russia or Japan and you find a poker chip under a flower pot or stuck in a crack int he wall, you might know how it got there. Find out more in MVP: the Magellan Voyage Project!

Snowflakes

Wonderful Ones,
Here in California we never get real snow outside the window at WT Melon Elementary School. But every year cut-out snowflakes appear in the classroom at the end of the hall. They come in all shapes, some pointed, some round, and some with four-corners. Some are blue or red or yellow. That beats the usual ordinary snowflakes that fall in the Sierras that have six sides and are only white. These thrid-grade snowflakes get taped to the windows are stay there all winter long.

All the best, Walter Teach Melon

2ndGraders #7

WT Melon Definition: Freeze Tag Touch

Freeze Tag Touch: (noun): A problem encountered by students who can't keep their hands to themselves. On the playground everyone they touch turns to ice. This might be fun for a while. But beware! What could happen if you touch your own image?

See Spot Run!

THE ELEVATOR FAMILY HITS THE ROAD XI

A new Elevator Family adventure!

Chapter Eleven

Back at Toll 4 the Wilsons and Faith prepared for the cookout.
Walter, careful not to let anything touch his tender belly, poured charcoal in the grill. He sprinkled on lighter fluid, tossed in a match, and Phoom! lit the fire.
Faith and the twins took charge of decorations and entertainment. First, they drew wild designs across the cement patio with colored chalk. Next, using strips of Walter’s newspaper, they made a long paper chain and strung it around the toll cabin. Finally they sat in Faith’s car to sort out her CD’s.
“We’ll leave the car doors open and have a sound system for dancing tonight,” said Whitney.
“But remember, Twinkletoes,” said Winslow. “We don’t know how to dance.”
Faith leaped out of the car. “Then come on you two. I’ll teach you some dances.”
“Ruff! Ruff!” went Cat, as the three started dancing by the side of the road.
For her part, Winona tidied up the toll cabin. She dusted the shelves and washed the windows. While polishing the knobs on the Dutch door, she watched Faith and the twins.
“Walter, doesn’t Faith look much happier since coming here?” she called to the patio. “But I’m still worried she’ll leave us soon.”
Walter shifted the coals in the grill. “Remember, my dear, this man has a plan,” he said.
A short while later the brown UPS van stopped at the gate. The woman in brown stepped out and handed Walter a box. “Here’s the ribs you ordered, Mr. Wilson.”
“Excellent timing, madam,” said Walter. “And be sure to come to our cook out tonight. We’re having spareribs smothered in Wilson Barbecue Sauce. It will be the best party east of the Mississippi, west of the Mississippi, and above the Mississippi.”
Soon the sun set. Crickets chirped under the bridge and fireflies flashed on the riverbank.
“Our guests should arrive shortly,” said Walter.
Charlene showed up first. She looked very different dressed in a blue party gown with her hair piled on top of her head. “I found a substitute to take over my toll cabin tonight,” she said. “Someone has to collect those dollars.”
Walter, who was wearing a mushroom chef’s hat and an apron that said “Kiss the Cook”, dropped a sparerib on the grill. “I’ve grown as fond of this bridge as you, Charlene,” he said. “If you don’t buy it from Bobby B. Bridges, maybe I will.”
Next Fred and Ed arrived with their wives Meg and Peg. The UPS lady came wearing a brown dress followed by Tom, a man the Wilsons had met living under the bridge. Mom came, and Huckleberry came, and the newspaper man came. Gene and Jean showed up with Genie between them.
“I wanna go swimming with the ducks!” the toddler screamed.
Walter banged his spatula on a hanging hubcap. “Come and get it, folks,” he called out. “The ribs are ready.”
The meal was excellent. Besides barbecued ribs, the guests enjoyed fresh corn on the cob bought from a farmer who had just driven through the Toll Plaza, and a chocolate flavored drink concocted by Winslow.
“I call it Mississippi Mud,” he announced.
For dessert, Whitney amazed the crowd with her perfectly-toasted marshmallows. Each time she lifted another golden one away from the coals they applauded.
After dinner, Walter told a story about the Wilson’s stay in New York City. “We loved the bright lights and friendly people, but the large buildings made us nervous,” he said. “We were lucky to find a small, cozy room outside a Broadway theater to stay in. It had windows on all sides like these toll cabins. Many people came to visit at the front window, but they left the moment Winona handed them tickets she found in a drawer.”
Walter took a gulp of Mississippi Mud before continuing. “The next night the room we stayed in had even larger windows. It was right in front of a department store and had brand new furniture in it. All evening we sat on the sofa, watching the people of New York stroll by on the sidewalk.”
As Walter talked, Winona watched Faith. The teenager sat alone on the hood of her car. She had put on a brightly printed dress and stuck daisies in her hair.
“Walter’s plans are always brilliant,” Winona told herself. “But what could he have cooked up this time that would prevent Faith from leaving tomorrow
Walter had just finished his story, when headlights lit up the patio. They belonged to a white limousine that stopped at the zebra-striped gate. A chauffeur in a tuxedo emerged from the front and opened a rear door.
“Ruff! Ruff!” went Cat, as a woman and man stepped out.
Faith gasped. Her hands went up to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears.
“Greetings and welcome to Toll Four,” Walter said to the newcomers. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Harding?”
“Harding?” Ed exclaimed. “Wasn’t that the name of the missing girl on the Illinois State Police flyer?”
“The Missouri State Police have been looking for a Faith Harding all week,” said Fred.
“Oh, Mom...Dad,” Faith called out. “What are you doing here?”
“Walter called us in New York,” Mr. Harding said. “He told us our daughter was with his family.”
“And you’ve come all this way to find me?” Faith asked.
“Faith, we were worried sick about you,” said Mrs. Harding. “We’ve come to take you home with us.”
“But I thought...” said Faith. And the next thing everyone knew the girl was wrapped in her parent’s arms.
“Ruff! Ruff!” Cat repeated.
At that moment the yellow parking lights on Faith’s car came on. They bathed the patio in a soft golden glow. Swing music boomed from the car speakers.
“Time for dancing!” Whitney and Winslow called from the front seat.
Walter threw off his cook’s apron and grabbed Winona by the hand. “Let’s cut the rug, Winona,” he said. And they began dancing cheek to cheek in the middle of the patio.
Other couples joined them--Gene and Jean, Fred and Meg, Ed and Peg, Huckleberry and the UPS lady, Charlene and Mom, Mr. and Mrs. Harding, Faith and Winslow, while Whitney danced with the stuffed panda.
“Walter, your surprise was a real prize for Faith,” Winona said. “You’re wonderful.”
Walter twirled Winona under his arm. “Only the best,” he replied.
Not until long past midnight did the first guests leave. Mr. and Mrs. Harding drove off in the limo, with Faith following in her convertible. One by one the other partiers drove toward either Ilinois or Missouri. They all agree it was the best party east of the Mississippi, west of the Mississippi, or above the Mississippi.

2ndGraders #6

Thanksgiving Feast

Wonderful Ones,
Today the third-graders had a Thanksgiving feast in the classroom at the end of the hall. Half the class dressed as Native-Americans and the other half dressed as Pilgrims. The tall teacher set up a long table in the middle of the classroom and the Room Parents brought in sliced turkey, yams, and pumpkin pie. The feast was fun to listen to from up here in my room.

All the best, Walter Teach Melon

2ndGraders #5

Turkeys

All the classrooms filled with turkeys,
The week before Thanksgiving Day.
Kindergartners traced around hands.
First-graders used papier-mâché.

Grade Two stuck feathers in pine cones.
Grade Three cut out a paper plate.
Grade Four pinned gumdrops on apples.
Grade Five stuffed bags to decorate.

We loved the turkeys at our school,
So imagine how we’ll feel,
Tomorrow on Thanksgiving Day,
When we’re served turkey at our meal.

The Test Taker

Who likes taking tests? Certainly not you. So why not become an official test-tester instead? Just contact the Iowa Underground Test Site and volunteer to become a badly-needed agent. With so many tests found in schools nowadays, more test-testers than ever before are needed. No one wants a fake, faulty, or fraud test to slip into our school.

THE ELEVATOR FAMILY HITS THE ROAD X

A new Elevator Family adventure!

Chapter Ten

Honk! Beep! Beep! Honk! Traffic woke the Wilsons again the next morning.
Walter sat up. “That morning alarm does an excellent job,” he grumbled.
Out the window, he spotted Faith snuggled up in the front seat of her car. The bear in back alarmed him, until he remembered Winslow had won it throwing darts at the county fair.
“Ruff! Ruff!” went Cat from his laundry basket.
A newspaper plopped onto the patio. The newspaper man and Charlene waved to Walter.
“Yes, it’s another bracing morning on the bridge,” he said. “Rise and shine, everyone!”
While the Wilsons rolled up their sleeping bags, Faith appeared in the doorway. “I guess this is good-bye,” she said. “I guess I’ve been in your way long enough.”
“Nonsense, dear,” said Winona. “We’ve enjoyed having you. You can stay as long as you like.”
“Besides, you must come to our cookout tonight,” said Walter. “We’re inviting all our new friends and neighbors.”
Faith smiled. “In that case, I guess I’ll just drive into town and do some errands,” she said. “See you later.”
For breakfast, Walter grilled pancakes in the shape of famous buildings--the Eiffel Tower, White House, Taj Mahal, and he surprised Winslow with a foot-long Empire State Building pancake.
Afterwards, Winona placed a new sign in the toll cabin window:
WINONA’S ADVICE BOOTH
$1.00
HELP BUY THE BRIDGE
“I want to assist Charlene,” she explained. “Yesterday drivers were eager to tell me their problems. This Rush Hour I’ll accept their dollars in exchange for some sound Wilson wisdom.”
Winona’s first customer was a man in a white van. “I just I had a fight with my daughter,” he said. “She’s in fourth grade, Winona. I feel bad that she went to school mad and angry at me.”
Winona leaned forward on her stool and nodded. “I understand your concern,” she said. “But perhaps that’s all water under the bridge by now.”
The man’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yea? Really? You think so, Winona? Yea, maybe you’re right. I see your point. Yea, maybe when Annie comes home she’ll be eager to tell me all about her day as always.” The man grinned as he handed Winona a dollar. “Thanks, Winona,” he said and drove away.
The next driver was a teenage girl who thought school was a waste of time since she wanted to become a folk guitarist, so she saw no point in studying history or science or math.
Again Winona leaned forward. “Don’t burn your bridges, dear,” was all she said.
The teenager nodded slowly. “Oh, wow. I think I know what you’re saying, Winona. Wow. You’re saying I should stay in school and practice my guitar at the same time. Oh, wow. Excellent advice, Winona. Thanks.”
That morning the sky was cloudless. By the time Rush Hour was over, the sun was baking the bridge. The Wilsons sat under the sunroof in swimsuits, fanning themselves with paper plates.
“It’s too hot to hoot,” said Walter. “But I see a way we can cool off.”
A pickup truck had stopped next door. In back was a stack of inflated inner tubes .
Walter bought four tubes from the driver, and soon the Wilsons, with inner tubes around their middles, were climbing down to the river.
“Ruff! Ruff!” went Cat, scampering after them.
Walter stuck a toe into the water. “Brrr. Forget it.”
“Geronimo!” the others cried, and sprinting past him, leaped right in. Their tall splashes soaked Walter, so he had no reason not to jump in himself.
The current carried the Wilsons along at a lazy pace. Lying on their backs inside the inner tubes, they kicked and slapped the water, splashing each other. They drifted under the bridge, past the town pier and boat marina.
“Greetings!” Walter called to an elderly couple on a houseboat. “Wonderful day to be on the river, isn’t it?
“We were admiring your compact, floating house,” said Winona.
A tug boat pushing three barges shaped like cereal boxes, chugged past the family. It sent a high wake rolling shore to shore.
“Hold on, everyone,” said Walter. “We’re in for a wild ride.”
Up and down, up and down went the inner tubes. Up and down, up and down went the Wilsons
“Yahoo!” Winslow cried
“Wheeeee!” shouted Whitney.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Walter moaned.
Farther downriver the family floated up to a raft made of logs. A pup tent was pitched in the middle. A man wearing a straw hat and cut-off jeans sat on the edge, fishing.
No one recognized the fisherman until he called out, “Hello, Wilsons. It’s me, Huckleberry!”
“Howdy Huck!” Walter shouted. “How’s the catfish business?”
“Your batter was a big success at the fair,” Huckleberry replied. “I reckon Mom’s gonna need twice as many fish this evening. I hope I bought enough marshmallows. Yep, what can be better than sittin’ and fishin’ on the old Mississip.”
The Wilsons drifted on. The summer sun continued to beat down on them. While Winslow, Winona and Whitney wore T-shirts, Walter only had on swim trunks. Already his round belly was red.
“Walter, I think you should cover up a bit,” said Winona.
“Nonsense,” Walter replied. “A little sun is good for you. Rich in vitamin-D.”
Just then, music from a calliope drifted up the river.
“It sounds like a circus is coming!” said Whitney.
“Or a merry-go-round,” said Winslow.
A minute later, a steam paddle boat appeared around the bend. Its four white decks, tiered and decorated like a birthday cake, gleamed in the sun. Ropes of steam rose from its twin smoke stacks. THE MISSISSIPPI QUEEN read a sign on its side, and in the rear, a paddle wheel churned up the water.
As the boat passed the Wilsons, tourists leaned over the rails and waved. Whitney and Winslow raised and lowered their fists until Phoooooooot! the brass steam whistle bellowed.
“Hi, you all!” Whitney called out.
“We’re floating all the way down to New Orleans,” said Winslow.
At this point Winona looked upstream. “Walter, we’ve floated a long way,” she said. “I can’t even see our bridge. How are we ever going to get back to the Toll Plaza?”
“No need to worry,” Walter answered. “Things have a way of working out for this family.”
As he spoke Cat called from the riverbank. “Ruff! Ruff!” The dog was standing at the bottom of a boat ramp. Next to him sat Faith in her convertible.
“Need a lift?” she called out.
“Last one to the ramp is a river rat,” said Walter.
Arms and legs paddled like mad, as the Wilsons raced to shore. “River rat! River rat!” Winslow, Whitney, and Winona chanted, as Walter lumbered up the ramp last of all. They loaded the inner tubes into Faith’s trunk and piled into the car.
“Oooooo!” went Walter, sitting in back. His belly and shoulders were as red as tomatoes.
Faith pressed a button on the dashboard, and the convertible’s top began to close.
“I can tell someone got a tad too much sun while floating down the river today,” she

Spot S

OIC

Wonderful Ones,
I often listen to the tall teacher explain problems to the third-graders down below in the classroom at the end of the hall. Sometimes when the student understands the problems, he'll shout out "Oh, I see!" and that spells Oic-O-I-C. So, perhaps, next time you finally get a problem in class, just save some time and shout out, "Oic!"

All the best, Walter Teach Melon

Ticonderoga 2

Have you ever been sitting in your classroom and your pencil suddenly disappears. this skinny, yellow fellow, Ticonderoga 2, might have taken it. Too bad, becuase he's probably already grinded it up into pencil shaving and sold the shaving to the great chefs of Pennsylvania. Read more about Ticonderoga 2 in the book Math Rashes, and Other Classroom Tales.

THE ELEVATOR FAMILY HITS THE ROAD IX

A new Elevator Family adventure!

Chapter Nine

Full of pep, promise, and the smell of catfish, Mom and Huckleberry drove off to the county fair.
“Let’s go to the fair, too,” Whitney suggested.
“Ferris wheels, farm animals, and fun houses,” said Winslow. “Fantabulous!”
“You young’uns go,” said Walter. “The old folks will stay here and relax this afternoon.”
Whitney grabbed Faith by one hand and Winslow took the other.
“Come on, Faith,” said Whitney.
“Ring toss games, roller-coasters, and rock n’ roll,” said Winslow.
Before Faith could object, the twins pulled her to the convertible. The three sat in the front seat.
“Would you believe I’ve never been to a fair before,” Faith said. “This will be something new.”
No sooner had the teenager and twins left, when the blasts of two police sirens shook the Toll Plaza. Ed, in his Illinois squad car, drove up to one side of the zebra-striped gate, while Fred on his Missouri police motorcycle roared up to the other. The two officers scowled at each other.
“Ruff! Ruff!” went Cat from his wicker basket.
“Greetings,” said Walter. “Nice of you fellows to drop by again.”
Each policeman held up a picture of a girl. Underneath were the words:
TEENAGER MISSING
Name: Faith Harding
Home: New York, NY
“Either of you seen this person?” Ed asked. “Her car’s been spotted in Illinois.”
“She’s probably headed for Missouri by way of this bridge,” said Fred.
Walter and Winona studied the face on the poster, the face of their new guest Faith.
Walter rubbed his chin. “So many people come and go around here,” he muttered.
“Is this girl in trouble?” asked Winona.
“Faith Harding disappeared from her home three days ago,” said Ed. “Her parents are worried silly about her.”
“Probably just another runaway,” said Fred. “If you see her, give a call to the Missouri State Police.”
“Remember you’re in Illinois now,” said Ed. “So the Illinois State Police can handle this case best.”
The policemen exchanged more sour looks and returned to their vehicles. They made sharp U-turns, and sped away.
Walter gazed out over the river. “That was a good snapshot of Faith, wasn’t it?” he said.
“Now we know she’s not driving toward a new life, but running away from her old one,” said Winona. “Oh, Walter, what will we say to her when she gets back from the fair?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Walter. “Right now it’s a perfect time for a stroll across our bridge? Shall we?”
Winona took Walter by the arm. Together they started up the sidewalk that ran along the side of the bridge. Cat trotted at their heels
The late afternoon was warm, and the soft smell of summer filled the air. The brown Mississippi River flowed beneath them without a ripple. Overhead, scissor-tailed swallows zipped in and out of the iron arches.
“Bobby B. Bridges Memorial Bridge,” Walter read off a sign. “Bobby B. Bridges must be the current owner of the bridge.” He continued to read signs. “No stopping on bridge. No diving from bridge. No passing on bridge. No throwing objects off bridge. No fishing from bridge. Mr. Bridges seems like a very strict man.”
“Walter, I wonder why Faith ran away,” said Winona. “Why did she say her parents don’t care about her?”
“For emergency use only,” Walter kept reading. “Speed zone ahead.”
“I just can’t imagine anyone wanting to run away from their family,” said Winona.
At the end of the bridge, the couple found FRANK’S FISHING BAIT AND FOOD MART. They entered to buy hamburger meat and buns for dinner.
“And here’s the perfect item for dessert,” Walter said in the snack section. “Tollhouse cookies.”
Hand in hand, they started back to the Toll Plaza. By the time they arrived the sun had set, turning the sky purple.
“Faith should be back with the twins any minute now,” said Walter.
“But I still don’t know what to say to her about Ed and Fred’s visit,” said Winona.
Walter bit into a cookie. “Not a thing. Our walk cleared my head. I now have a plan.”
He entered Toll 4 and picked up the telephone. Winona watched him dial and chat at length. He hung up when car headlights lit up the cabin windows. A horn honked, and the white convertible stopped at the gate.
Faith and Whitney sat in the front seat. Winslow sat in back with a giant stuffed panda. All three held clouds of cotton candy and were singing along with the radio.
Walter waved and rejoined Winona.
“What was that phone call about?” she asked him.
“A surprise,” Walter replied. “And I know how you like surprises, so I won’t spoil it by telling you anything else. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow night to see what it is.”
Meanwhile, Faith and the twins had left the car and leaped over the guardrail. They raced up and down the river bank catching fireflies. Holding the flashing bugs in cupped hands, they released them inside Toll 4, then ran back to catch some more. Soon the toll cabin was twinkling as much as the sky above the bridge.
Winona squeezed Walter’s arm. “I’m glad we have a tight-knit fam,” she said.
“We’re the luckiest family in the

2ndGraders #4

WT Melon Definition: Elemenopy

Elemenopy: (noun): A potion concocted by WT Melon in his room above the classroom at the end of the hall. When he learns about a problem in a classroom, he sprinkles some of this formula into the room and all sorts of strangeness can occur. Read more about Elemenopy and WT Melon in the book Classroom at the End of the Hall.

Spot R

John Fowles

“In one way at least teaching is a good profession for a writer, because it gives him a sharp sense of futility.” John Fowles

The Messy-Desk Pest

Beware children! If you have a messy desk this creature might appear in you classroom. He might chew your pencils or favorite eraser. He might scribble on you homework or break your crayons into tiny pieces. Getting rid of the Messy-Desk Pest is diffiuclt. You must keep your desk tidy! Read more about the Messy Desk Pest in the book Classroom at the End of the Hall.

THE ELEVATOR FAMILY HITS THE ROAD VIII

A new Elevator Family adventure!

Chapter Eight

Walter looked down the highway. Driving onto the bridge was a large mustard-yellow van. Words on its side read:
MOM’S JUST CHICKEN WAGON
GOOD LUNCHES AND DINNERS
“Lunchtime,” Walter announced. “And you must stay for lunch, Faith. The service at this Toll Plaza is excellent.”
The yellow van was heading toward Toll 2 when Walter waved it over to Toll 4.
The driver rolled down his window. He was an older man with a pot belly and thin gray hair. One sleeveless arm bore a tattoo of a chicken. “You open?” he asked.
“The Wilsons are always open for guests,” said Walter.
“We were wondering if you were open,” said Winona. “We’d like to have lunch on our patio.”
The driver looked at Walter, Winona, Whitney, Winslow, and Faith. “Don’t see why not,” he said. “Business is business.”
He disappeared into the van and seconds later a wide window on the side folded open. The man, now standing behind a counter wearing a paper apron and hat, propped the window up with a stick.
“It’ll take a few minutes for the fryers to heat up,” he said.
“Where’s Mom?” asked Whitney.
“You’re looking at him, kid,” said the man. “My real name’s Milton Oliver Montgomery. But my friends shortened it to Mom.”
Walter drummed his finger on his large stomach. “So, what’s for lunch, Mom?” he asked.
“Chicken,” came the answer. “Fried chicken, baked chicken, curried chicken, chicken kabobs, chicken soup, chicken burritos, chicken and dumplings, chicken teriyaki, and chicken on a stick. You name it, as long it has chicken in it.”
“How’s business been?” asked Winona.
“Business is business,” Mom repeated. “But to tell you the truth, I think my customers are getting tired of just chicken. To tell you the truth, I’m getting tired of cooking it.”
At that moment Huckleberry appeared at the top of the riverbank. He held the bamboo pole in one hand and a string of catfish in the other. He leaped over the guardrail, his face split with a grin.
“What a morning of fishin’,” he exclaimed. “The marshmallow bait worked wonders, Walter. The second my hook touched the water a catfish attacked it. I caught enough fish for everyone and then some.”
Walter’s eyes went from the fish, to the lunch wagon. “Mom, forget about cooking chicken for lunch,” he said. “We’ll have fresh catfish instead. I’ll fry them myself, using the famous Wilson Fish Batter recipe.”
Winona gave Walter a look. “I didn’t know there was a famous Wilson Fish Batter,” she said.
“It’s so secret I’m the only Wilson who knows the secret ingredient,” said Walter.
Just then something behind Huckleberry went “Ruff! Ruff!” Underneath the guardrail appeared a scruffy gray dog with long eyebrows that hid his eyes and a long mustache that hid his mouth. “Ruff! Ruff!” he repeated.
“Who’s your friend, Huck?” asked Walter.
“While I was fishin’ this old pooch came wanderin’ up the bank, sniffin’ at things,” Huckleberry replied. “When my biggest catfish fell off the hook, he pounced on it before it got away. I named him Cat since he’s so good at catchin’ catfish.”
“Cat can use one of our hubcaps for a water dish,” said Whitney.
“And I spotted a wicker laundry basket in the bushes he can use for a bed,” said Winslow.
“Sounds like Cat has a new home,” said Huckleberry.
Cat wagged his long mop of a tail. “Ruff! Ruff!”
“The fat is ready for frying,” Mom announced from the van.
“Excellent,” said Walter. “Time to whip up my secret batter.”
“Whitney and Winslow, come help me clean these catfish,” Huckleberry said.
“Faith and I will slice some potatoes,” said Winona. “We’ll have catfish and French fries.”
The group ate lunch in a circle on the patio. There was plenty of fish and fries for everyone.
“Fantabulous fish, Dad,” said Winslow.
“Best fish I’ve ever had,” Whitney agreed.
“Mmm, mmm,” said Faith. “There’s nothing like this in New York.”
“What did you put in the Wilson Fish Batter to make the fish so crisp and fluffy, Walter?” asked Mom.
“Sorry my lips are sealed,” Walter answered.
“Ruff! Ruff!” Cat, all eyelashes and whiskers, stood by the lunch wagon. In his mouth was an empty root beer can.”
The group broke out laughing.
“Walter, you added root beer to this batter?” said Winona. “Root beer and flour is our secret family recipe?”
“Cat let the secret out of the bag,” Walter admitted.
Mom wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, folks, I’m headed to the county fair across the river,” he said. “And if you don’t mind, Walter, I’d like to try out your root-beer batter catfish on the crowd this evening. I bet business will be better than the usual business.”
“The recipe is all yours,” Walter said. “Just change the name on your van to Mom’s Just Catfish Wagon.
Mom turned toward Huckleberry. “So what do you say, Huck? If you’ll do the catching, I’ll do the cooking. We’ll split the profits fifty-fifty.”
“If the Wilsons wouldn’t mind taking over this toll cabin another day,” Huck replied.
The four Wilsons were too busy eating to do anything but nod.
Meanwhile, Cat had crawled into the basket Winslow had set outside the cabin. After turning two circles, he laid down.
“Look, Cat likes his small, cozy home,” Winslow said.
“Only the best,” said Walter. “He’s already one of the family.”

2ndGraders #3

When Chuck Threw Up

We watched Chuck bend; his shoulders hunch.
Then we saw what Chuck had for lunch.

Lucky Chuck could go home that day,
But in that room we had to stay.

Spot Q

THE ELEVATOR FAMILY HITS THE ROAD VII

A new Elevator Family adventure!

Chapter Seven

For the next half-hour Walter read the newspaper while Winona drew cars in her sketchbook. The twins, in the meantime, went hubcap hunting. Searching in the bushes beyond the guardrail, they found nine of the shiny disks. They hung them on fishing line from the sunroof. The revolving hubcaps flashed when the sunlight caught them and clanged together when a breeze blew.
“It’s modern art,” Whitney explained.
“We’re calling our sculpture Hubcap Sunrise,” said Winslow.
“At least they might keep the crows away,” Walter quipped.
Winona erased a line on her paper. “Oh, I wish the cars would stop long enough for me to sketch them.”
At that moment, a white convertible stopped at the zebra-striped gate. The top was down, and a blond woman of about eighteen sat behind the wheel. Smoke poured from under the car’s hood.
“Just what I need,” the teenager complained. “Car problems right in the middle of nowhere.
Winona lay down her sketchbook. “You’re never no where, dear,” she said to the girl. “Especially not when you’re here.”
The girl climbed from the car, slamming the door. “Well, I’m stuck here wherever here is,” she said. “My car’s been smoking for the past ten miles.”
“Smoking is a bad habit to get into, young lady,” said Walter. “From the sound of your engine you have a bad dohickey on the third thingamajig.”
The teenager blew out her cheeks. “Just what I need, car repair bills. I guess I’ll hike into town and find a tow truck. And my name’s not young lady; it’s Faith.”
“No need to go anywhere, Faith,” said Walter. “I can fix that car in a jiffy.”
“Walter loves tinkering with motors, dear,” Winona said. “Why don’t you come sit down. I’ll fix some lemonade, and we can chat while Walter tinkers.”
The teenager shrugged. “Why not?” she said. “I wasn’t heading anywhere anyway.”
Walter rolled up his sleeves and approached the convertible. He opened the hood and leaned far over the engine, humming while he worked.
Meanwhile, Winona mixed lemonade in a plastic pitcher, and talked with Faith. “So tell us about yourself. Tell us about your family. Where are you from?”
Faith sat in a lounge chair with the twins. “There’s not much to tell, really,” she replied.
“Faith’s from New York,” said Whitney. “I can tell by her accent.”
“Nice try, Sherlock, but you knew by the license plates on her car,” said Winslow.
“I was from New York,” Faith explained. “But now I’m driving out West to start a new life.”
Winona handed Faith a glass of lemonade. “A new life already?” she said. “But you’re so young. Aren’t your parents worried about you?”
Faith shook her head. “My parents? They’ve never cared about anything I’ve done. I doubt they even know I’m gone.”
Walter stepped out from under the hood. He held a small metal rod. “Here’s the gizmo that broke off the whatchamacallit causing the thingamabob to smoke,” he said. “I’ll phone the auto shop and have a new one of these doodads delivered to our Toll Plaza.”
“Great! That means Faith can’t go yet to wherever she was going,” said Whitney.
“Hope you don’t mind being stuck here in the middle of nowhere,” said Winslow.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” the teenager replied. “This rest is just what I needed. I’ve been driving all night.”
Forty minutes later a brown UPS van drove up to the zebra-striped gate. A woman in a brown shirt, shorts, and cap stepped out.
“Delivery for Toll Four,” she said. “And I’m telling you, I’ve done hundreds of deliveries on either side of this bridge, but never on the bridge.
Walter inspected the auto part the lady handed him. “Just the thingy I need,” he said.
Five minutes later Faith’s car engine was idling smoothly, without a whiff of smoke.
“Sounds like you can leave now, ” said Winona. “If you want to.”
“Yes, your car’s kicked the smoking habit, Faith,” said Walter.
Right then a breeze stirred the dangling hubcaps. Clang! Clang! They swayed and gleamed in the sunlight.
“Isn’t that beautiful?” said the UPS lady. “I’m telling you, this Toll Plaza has never looked lovelier.”
“It’s modern art,” said Whitney.
“We call it Hubcap Sunrise,” Winslow added.
“And there’s not a crow in sight,” said Walter.

Classroom At the End of the Hall in Japanese!

Check out the Japanese edition of Classroom at the End of the Hall Japan Cool cover!

WT Melon Alphabet: H

H is for Homework Gnome: Tired of doing homework? Does homework make no sense to you. Then be on the lookout at your school for the Homework Gnome. He'll do you homework for a small price. But beware! The price doesn't come in cents. It comes in senses.

2ndGraders #2