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“That’s ground snow,” argued Terrence.

Dana came to Leslie’s defense. “Some of it came from the ground,” she agreed. “But four flakes came from the air. I saw them.”

“How can you see four snowflakes?” asked Paul.

“Super glasses!” said Dana, pointing to her spectacles. She picked four snowflakes out of Leslie’s hair. “One, two, three, and four. Just like I told you.”

“That proves it!” declared Bebe. “One point!”

Paul scowled. He remained skeptical of her spectacles.

Up on the roof, Louis spotted something sticking out of the snow. It was purple and green, with some yellow dots.

He tried to pull it free, but it was stuck. He pulled hard.

It still wouldn’t budge.

He gave it one hard yank!

The umbrella jerked free, but Louis’s feet slipped out from under him. He fell on his bottom and slid backward across the roof.

“Look out below!” he shouted as he went over the edge.

The children ran to the call. They were quite surprised when they looked up and saw the yard teacher coming toward them.

Louis looked down. He didn’t want to hurt the children.

He considered trying a Mary Poppins, but he was holding the wrong end of the umbrella, and there wasn’t time to change his grip and try to open it.

His best chance was to grab the top of the flagpole.

Wayside School had an extra-tall flagpole so it wouldn’t look puny next to the building.

Louis reached out for it but missed.

The next thing he knew, he was spinning wildly in circles.

The curved handle of the umbrella had hooked the pole.

Louis whirled dizzily around it as he slowly moved down the pole. By the time he reached the ground, he must have circled the flagpole more than a thousand times.

Sharie ran to him.

To Louis, it looked like there were six Sharies, all spinning like tops.

“Thanks, Louis—you’re the best!” said Sharie, taking her umbrella. “But really, there was no big rush. You could have just used the stairs.”

30

Rainbow

There was no stove in the cafeteria kitchen. An enormous pot hung from a thick chain above a blazing fire.

“Lower the pot,” ordered Miss Mush.

Mr. Pepperadder turned the squeaky crank, and the pot came down.

“What will it be today?” he asked.


Tags: Louis Sachar Wayside School Fiction