One Friday Miss Nelson told her class that she was going to have her tonsils out.
“I’ll be away suivant week,” she said. “And I expect toi to behave.”
“Yess, Miss Nelson,” a dit the kids in 207.
But at recess it was another story.
“Wow!” a dit the kids. “While Miss Nelson is away, we can really act up!”
“Not so fast!” a dit a big kid from 309. “Haven’t toi heard of Viola Swamp?”
“Who?” a dit Miss Nelson’s kids.
“Miss Swamp is the meanest substitute teacher in the whole world,” a dit the big kid. “Nobody acts up when she’s around.”
“Oooh,” a dit Miss Nelson’s kids.
“She’s a real witch,” a dit the big kid.
“Oooh,” a dit Miss Nelson’s kids.
“I’ll just bet toi get the Swamp!” a dit the big kid.
On Monday morning Miss Nelson’s kids were all in their seats.
They were very nervous.
Some of them had not slept well all weekend.
“If we get the Swamp, I’ll just die,” a dit one kid.
They heard footsteps in the hall.
Slowly the knob turned.
And the door opened…
It was Mr. Blandsworth, the principal.
“I shall personally take over this class,” he said.
Miss Nelson’s kids were so relieved.
But they soon learned that Mr. Blandsworth was not a lot of fun.
All morning Mr. Blandsworth tried to amuse the class with his corny card tricks.
“Oh, brother,” a dit the class.
That afternoon, Mr. Blandsworth showed the class his favori shadow pictures.
“This is kids’ stuff,” a dit the class.
The suivant jour Mr. Blandsworth demonstrated his favori bird calls.
They were not a success.
And for two days Mr. Blandsworth showed slides of his goldfish Lucille.
Miss Nelson’s kids had never been so bored.
While dusting erasers in the schoolyard, three of the ringleaders of 207 discussed the siutation.
“Something will have to be done,” they said. “We must get rid of Blandsworth.”
And they hatched a plot.
After school they painted and sewed and borrowed some old clothes.
And they practiced some very difficult stunt work in the back yard.
The suivant jour they weren’t in class.
“That’s too bad,” a dit Mr. Blandsworth. “They’ll miss all the excitement.”
Mr. Blandworth was about to montrer the class his collection of ballpoint pens from all over the world, when someone came to the door.
Slowly the knob turned.
And the door opened…
“Oh, look!” a dit the class. “Miss Nelson is back!”
A tall and lumpy Miss Nelson tottered into the room.
Mr. Blandsworth was surprised.
“You’re back sooner than we expected,” he said.
The tall and lumpy Miss Nelson didn’t speak.
“Er,” a dit the kids. “Her throat must still be sore.”
“Are toi sure you’re well enough?” a dit Mr. Blandsworth.
“She’s sure,” a dit the kids.
“Well, in that case,” a dit the principal. “I’ll be getting back to the office. Nice to have toi back, Miss Nelson.”
And he left the room.
“Hot dog!” cried the class. “We got rid of Blandsworth! Now we can do just as we please!”
And at the stroke of ten, the kids from 207 left the building.
No one stopped them.
They went straight to the movies, where they saw The Monster That Ate Chicago—twice.
“This is really living,” they said.
Afterward they went to Lulu’s, where they stuffed themselves silly.
But soon they made a serious mistake.
Heading back to school, they passed Miss Nelson’s house.
Miss Nelson couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Those are my kids!” she a dit in a scratchy voice. “What are they doing out of school? And who is that with them?”
Miss Nelson telephoned Mr. Blandsworth to see what was going on.
“You’re not Miss Nelson,” a dit Blandsworth. “Miss Nelson is back.”
And he hung up.
“Can’t fool me,” he said.
“Hmm,” a dit Miss Nelson. “Something will have to be done.”
And she went to her closet.
Back in 207 Miss Nelson’s kids were spending and agreeable afternoon.
They were very pleased with themselves.
“We should do this plus often,” they said.
They did not notice the figure out in the hall.
Slowly the knob turned.
And the door opened…
“My name is Viola Swamp,” a dit the lady in a scratchy voice.
“Yipes!” cried the kids. “The Swamp!”
“That’s right!” a dit Miss Swamp. “And I’m here to whip this class into shape. Get back to those desks on the double!”
The class did as it was told.
The big kid from 309 was certainly right—Miss Swamp was a real witch!
She knew how to get results.
The class did a whole week’s work in no time.
“We shouldn’t have gotten rid of Blandsworth,” they said.
“Pipe down!” a dit the Swamp, “or…”
Just then something under a bureau attracted her attention.
It was a mask.
“Ah ha!” a dit Miss Swamp. “So that’s your little game!”
And she tried on the mask—just as Mr. Blandsworth stepped into her room.
“Miss Nelson,” a dit Mr. Blandsworth, “I’m of the opinion that someone has been impersonating you.”
“Uh oh,” whispered the kids.
“You don’t say,” a dit Miss Swamp.
“Probably just come kids jouer la comédie up. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
And Mr. Blandsworth left.
“And it won’t, will it?” a dit Miss Swamp to the class.
“Because the Swamp will be watching!”
A minute later, Miss Nelson appeared.
“I’m back!” she said.
“Hot dog!” cried the kids. “Are we glad to see you!”
“Didn’t toi have fun with Mr. Blandsworth?” asked Miss Nelson.
“Er,” a dit the kids.
They decided not to mention Miss Viola Swamp.
But they wondered why Miss Nelson hadn’t seen her in the hall.
“I’ll be away suivant week,” she said. “And I expect toi to behave.”
“Yess, Miss Nelson,” a dit the kids in 207.
But at recess it was another story.
“Wow!” a dit the kids. “While Miss Nelson is away, we can really act up!”
“Not so fast!” a dit a big kid from 309. “Haven’t toi heard of Viola Swamp?”
“Who?” a dit Miss Nelson’s kids.
“Miss Swamp is the meanest substitute teacher in the whole world,” a dit the big kid. “Nobody acts up when she’s around.”
“Oooh,” a dit Miss Nelson’s kids.
“She’s a real witch,” a dit the big kid.
“Oooh,” a dit Miss Nelson’s kids.
“I’ll just bet toi get the Swamp!” a dit the big kid.
On Monday morning Miss Nelson’s kids were all in their seats.
They were very nervous.
Some of them had not slept well all weekend.
“If we get the Swamp, I’ll just die,” a dit one kid.
They heard footsteps in the hall.
Slowly the knob turned.
And the door opened…
It was Mr. Blandsworth, the principal.
“I shall personally take over this class,” he said.
Miss Nelson’s kids were so relieved.
But they soon learned that Mr. Blandsworth was not a lot of fun.
All morning Mr. Blandsworth tried to amuse the class with his corny card tricks.
“Oh, brother,” a dit the class.
That afternoon, Mr. Blandsworth showed the class his favori shadow pictures.
“This is kids’ stuff,” a dit the class.
The suivant jour Mr. Blandsworth demonstrated his favori bird calls.
They were not a success.
And for two days Mr. Blandsworth showed slides of his goldfish Lucille.
Miss Nelson’s kids had never been so bored.
While dusting erasers in the schoolyard, three of the ringleaders of 207 discussed the siutation.
“Something will have to be done,” they said. “We must get rid of Blandsworth.”
And they hatched a plot.
After school they painted and sewed and borrowed some old clothes.
And they practiced some very difficult stunt work in the back yard.
The suivant jour they weren’t in class.
“That’s too bad,” a dit Mr. Blandsworth. “They’ll miss all the excitement.”
Mr. Blandworth was about to montrer the class his collection of ballpoint pens from all over the world, when someone came to the door.
Slowly the knob turned.
And the door opened…
“Oh, look!” a dit the class. “Miss Nelson is back!”
A tall and lumpy Miss Nelson tottered into the room.
Mr. Blandsworth was surprised.
“You’re back sooner than we expected,” he said.
The tall and lumpy Miss Nelson didn’t speak.
“Er,” a dit the kids. “Her throat must still be sore.”
“Are toi sure you’re well enough?” a dit Mr. Blandsworth.
“She’s sure,” a dit the kids.
“Well, in that case,” a dit the principal. “I’ll be getting back to the office. Nice to have toi back, Miss Nelson.”
And he left the room.
“Hot dog!” cried the class. “We got rid of Blandsworth! Now we can do just as we please!”
And at the stroke of ten, the kids from 207 left the building.
No one stopped them.
They went straight to the movies, where they saw The Monster That Ate Chicago—twice.
“This is really living,” they said.
Afterward they went to Lulu’s, where they stuffed themselves silly.
But soon they made a serious mistake.
Heading back to school, they passed Miss Nelson’s house.
Miss Nelson couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Those are my kids!” she a dit in a scratchy voice. “What are they doing out of school? And who is that with them?”
Miss Nelson telephoned Mr. Blandsworth to see what was going on.
“You’re not Miss Nelson,” a dit Blandsworth. “Miss Nelson is back.”
And he hung up.
“Can’t fool me,” he said.
“Hmm,” a dit Miss Nelson. “Something will have to be done.”
And she went to her closet.
Back in 207 Miss Nelson’s kids were spending and agreeable afternoon.
They were very pleased with themselves.
“We should do this plus often,” they said.
They did not notice the figure out in the hall.
Slowly the knob turned.
And the door opened…
“My name is Viola Swamp,” a dit the lady in a scratchy voice.
“Yipes!” cried the kids. “The Swamp!”
“That’s right!” a dit Miss Swamp. “And I’m here to whip this class into shape. Get back to those desks on the double!”
The class did as it was told.
The big kid from 309 was certainly right—Miss Swamp was a real witch!
She knew how to get results.
The class did a whole week’s work in no time.
“We shouldn’t have gotten rid of Blandsworth,” they said.
“Pipe down!” a dit the Swamp, “or…”
Just then something under a bureau attracted her attention.
It was a mask.
“Ah ha!” a dit Miss Swamp. “So that’s your little game!”
And she tried on the mask—just as Mr. Blandsworth stepped into her room.
“Miss Nelson,” a dit Mr. Blandsworth, “I’m of the opinion that someone has been impersonating you.”
“Uh oh,” whispered the kids.
“You don’t say,” a dit Miss Swamp.
“Probably just come kids jouer la comédie up. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
And Mr. Blandsworth left.
“And it won’t, will it?” a dit Miss Swamp to the class.
“Because the Swamp will be watching!”
A minute later, Miss Nelson appeared.
“I’m back!” she said.
“Hot dog!” cried the kids. “Are we glad to see you!”
“Didn’t toi have fun with Mr. Blandsworth?” asked Miss Nelson.
“Er,” a dit the kids.
They decided not to mention Miss Viola Swamp.
But they wondered why Miss Nelson hadn’t seen her in the hall.