Lulu and the Duck in the Park by Hilary McKay Page A

want to look!” she said when Lulu brought in photographs of the Snail world she had built at the end of her garden. “Snails are just not me, Lulu! In fact, I’m afraid I don’t like them much at all.”
    “It’s not just snails,” said Lulu. “Slugs too!”
    “Even worse!” cried Mrs. Holiday.
    Lulu bought a packet of dog treats, and a few days later her old dog, Sam, cleverly trailed her all the way to school.

    Mrs. Holiday was not a bit pleased about that. Lulu was allowed to give him a drink of water, but after his drink Sam had to go to the janitor’s room and be tied up until the end of the school day.
    “Can’t he stay with me?” begged Lulu.
    “Certainly not,” said Mrs. Holiday.
    “He would be so good! You wouldn’t even notice him!”

    “I am noticing him already!” said Mrs. Holiday, glaring icy-blue glares at Sam, who was panting around the classroom, banging into things.
    “He’s a very nice dog,” said Lulu pleadingly. “Look how friendly he is!”

    Sam was now snuffling like a vacuum cleaner at the guinea pig cage. His snuffling made the guinea pig squeak and charge around, spilling wood shavings out through the bars.
    “Woof!” said Sam, loudly and happily.

    “Lulu!” said Mrs. Holiday, handing Lulu a jump rope that she had cleverly knotted to make a collar and leash.
    “Please take that very nice dog away AT ONCE and ask the janitor to keep him until it’s time to go home.”
    “Now?” asked Lulu.
    “This instant!” said Mrs. Holiday. “And while you are there, please borrow a dustpan and brush!”
    So Lulu very slowly led Sam away, and when she came back the guinea pig was a lot calmer, and so was Mrs. Holiday. Until Lulu, busily sweeping, remarked, “I think the poor guinea pig needs a friend. I have some black-and- white mice. If you like I could bring them in to visit him. And I bet lots of the others have pets they could bring in too.”
    She was right. They did. They all offered at once to bring friends for the guinea pig. Class Three bounced in their seats in their eagerness to describe the friendliness of rats and lizards, cats and fish, turtles and tame(ish) beetles.
    “No, no, no!” exclaimed Mrs. Holiday, and called an emergency meeting for Class Three. And at the meeting she explained to everyone very carefully and plainly that if the Class Three guinea pig ever had a single friend brought in to visit... any sort of friend, a snaily friend or a whiskery friend, a very large friend like Sammy, or a very small friend, like a black-and-white mouse, then the Class Three guinea pig would unfortunately have to leave Class Three forever.
    “But where would he go?” asked Lulu.
    “ We would swap him for the Class Two stick insects!” said Mrs. Holiday. “Class Two would be very pleased to swap,” she continued, ignoring the howls and groans all around her, “and I would not mind a bit. I much prefer quiet unsmelly stick insects to squeaky rowdy guinea pigs. So. You have been warned!”

    Class Three was silent with shock.
    They all gazed at the guinea pig and thought how gloomy things would be without him. No more cheerful noisy interruptions of squeaks in quiet lessons. No more guinea-pig food to chew in hungry moments. No more useful sausage-shaped guinea-pig poops to flick around the classroom.
    At the end of the afternoon everyone grumbled at Lulu for making Mrs. Holiday think of such an awful idea.
    They grumbled a lot, and the one who grumbled most of all was Mellie.
    “Mrs. Holiday really meant it,” said Mellie as she and Lulu swung in the little park together on their way home from school that day. “She would swap, I’m sure she would. And just looking at those stick insects makes me feel itchy all over. I think I may be allergic to them actually. So...”
    There was a very long, swinging Mellie-style silence.
    “I suppose I’d have to change schools,” said Mellie.
    “Oh,” shouted Lulu. “Don’t be silly!” And she swallowed the last