teacher.
She'd put a nice red star on top.
After lunch Ms. Rooney pointed to a picture.
“This is Abraham Lincoln,” she said.
Emily looked at Abraham Lincoln. He had on a big black hat.
“He was a president,” Linda Lorca said.
“Right,” said Ms. Rooney. “His birthday is February twelfth.”
Emily could see that her friend Richard was drawing a picture of Abraham Lincoln.
“Who can tell us more?” Ms. Rooney asked.
“He's on a penny,*’ Wayne O'Brien said.
“What about his life?” asked Ms. Rooney.
Timothy Barbiero put his hand up.
Emily wished she could put her hand up too.
But she didn't know one thing about Abraham Lincoln.
Just then the door opened.
It was Mr. Mancina, the principal. “May I see you a minute?” he asked Ms. Rooney.
“Finish your boardwork,” Ms. Rooney told the class.
Everyone sat up straight.
Emily tried to sit up straighter than everyone else.
She hoped Ms. Rooney would call on her to be the monitor.
Ms. Rooney looked around. “Emily,” she said.
Emily rushed up to the front of the room.
Ms. Rooney pointed to the chalkn her desk. “If anyone is not doing his work,” she said, “write his name down.”
Ms. Rooney went outside.
Emily looked around at everyone.
The whole class was working.
All except for Matthew Jackson.
He was playing with his pencil.
He dropped it on the floor.
It rolled under Beast's desk.
Matthew leaned out of his seat to get it.
Emily thought about putting his name on the board. But Matthew wasn't really fooling around.
Emily sat down at Ms. Rooney's desk.
It was a wonderful feeling to be sitting there.
She picked up Ms. Rooney's pen.
She made a little check mark bn a piece of paper.
Maybe she'd be a teacher when she grew up.
It was probably a lot of fun. Easy too.
She looked back at the library corner.
If she were a teacher she'd have lots of good books in the classroom.
She spotted a big blue book.
It had a picture of Abraham Lincoln on the cover.
Maybe it would tell about Abraham Lincoln's life.
She stood up. She'd look through the book. She'd know all about Abraham Lincoln by the time Ms. Rooney came back.
Just then Sherri stood up too.
“You're not supposed to—” Emily began.
“I have to get something from the library comer,” Sherri said.
Emily looked at the big blue book.
She hoped Sherri wasn't looking at the big blue book too.
“What do you have to get?” Emily asked.
Sherri didn't answer.
She was hurrying over to the library corner.
Emily rushed down the aisle.
She got to the library corner a second ahead of Sherri.
She grabbed the big blue book.
Sherri pulled the book away from her.
“Hey,” Emily said.
Sherri raced back to her seat with it.
“You're supposed to be doing boardwork,” Emily said.
But Sherri didn't answer.
She was looking at the big blue book.
Emily wanted to race down to Sherd's seat.
She wanted to take the big blue book away from her.
She went back to Ms. Rooney's desk.
Then she saw the piece of chalk.
She went to the blackboard. She wrote Sherri D. in big white letters.
The chalk screeched across the board.
But Sherri wasn't paying attention. She was still reading the big blue book.
She was going to know all about Abraham Lincoln.
And Emily wasn't going to know anything.
Not one thing.
The class was quiet when Ms. Rooney opened the door.
“I'm proud of you,” she said. “You can hear a pin drop in here.”
She looked at the blackboard. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Not everyone was working.”
Ms. Rooney went to her desk. “Thank you, Emily. You may go back to your seat.”
Then Ms. Rooney frowned. “I'm disappointed in you, Sherri,” she said.
Emily went down the aisle to her seat.
She took a quick look at Sherri.
Sherri's face was red. She looked as if she were going to cry.
“Time to write our spelling words,” said Ms. Rooney. “Three times.”
Emily took out her spelling book.
Ms. Rooney looked up again. “As soon as you're
She'd put a nice red star on top.
After lunch Ms. Rooney pointed to a picture.
“This is Abraham Lincoln,” she said.
Emily looked at Abraham Lincoln. He had on a big black hat.
“He was a president,” Linda Lorca said.
“Right,” said Ms. Rooney. “His birthday is February twelfth.”
Emily could see that her friend Richard was drawing a picture of Abraham Lincoln.
“Who can tell us more?” Ms. Rooney asked.
“He's on a penny,*’ Wayne O'Brien said.
“What about his life?” asked Ms. Rooney.
Timothy Barbiero put his hand up.
Emily wished she could put her hand up too.
But she didn't know one thing about Abraham Lincoln.
Just then the door opened.
It was Mr. Mancina, the principal. “May I see you a minute?” he asked Ms. Rooney.
“Finish your boardwork,” Ms. Rooney told the class.
Everyone sat up straight.
Emily tried to sit up straighter than everyone else.
She hoped Ms. Rooney would call on her to be the monitor.
Ms. Rooney looked around. “Emily,” she said.
Emily rushed up to the front of the room.
Ms. Rooney pointed to the chalkn her desk. “If anyone is not doing his work,” she said, “write his name down.”
Ms. Rooney went outside.
Emily looked around at everyone.
The whole class was working.
All except for Matthew Jackson.
He was playing with his pencil.
He dropped it on the floor.
It rolled under Beast's desk.
Matthew leaned out of his seat to get it.
Emily thought about putting his name on the board. But Matthew wasn't really fooling around.
Emily sat down at Ms. Rooney's desk.
It was a wonderful feeling to be sitting there.
She picked up Ms. Rooney's pen.
She made a little check mark bn a piece of paper.
Maybe she'd be a teacher when she grew up.
It was probably a lot of fun. Easy too.
She looked back at the library corner.
If she were a teacher she'd have lots of good books in the classroom.
She spotted a big blue book.
It had a picture of Abraham Lincoln on the cover.
Maybe it would tell about Abraham Lincoln's life.
She stood up. She'd look through the book. She'd know all about Abraham Lincoln by the time Ms. Rooney came back.
Just then Sherri stood up too.
“You're not supposed to—” Emily began.
“I have to get something from the library comer,” Sherri said.
Emily looked at the big blue book.
She hoped Sherri wasn't looking at the big blue book too.
“What do you have to get?” Emily asked.
Sherri didn't answer.
She was hurrying over to the library corner.
Emily rushed down the aisle.
She got to the library corner a second ahead of Sherri.
She grabbed the big blue book.
Sherri pulled the book away from her.
“Hey,” Emily said.
Sherri raced back to her seat with it.
“You're supposed to be doing boardwork,” Emily said.
But Sherri didn't answer.
She was looking at the big blue book.
Emily wanted to race down to Sherd's seat.
She wanted to take the big blue book away from her.
She went back to Ms. Rooney's desk.
Then she saw the piece of chalk.
She went to the blackboard. She wrote Sherri D. in big white letters.
The chalk screeched across the board.
But Sherri wasn't paying attention. She was still reading the big blue book.
She was going to know all about Abraham Lincoln.
And Emily wasn't going to know anything.
Not one thing.
The class was quiet when Ms. Rooney opened the door.
“I'm proud of you,” she said. “You can hear a pin drop in here.”
She looked at the blackboard. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Not everyone was working.”
Ms. Rooney went to her desk. “Thank you, Emily. You may go back to your seat.”
Then Ms. Rooney frowned. “I'm disappointed in you, Sherri,” she said.
Emily went down the aisle to her seat.
She took a quick look at Sherri.
Sherri's face was red. She looked as if she were going to cry.
“Time to write our spelling words,” said Ms. Rooney. “Three times.”
Emily took out her spelling book.
Ms. Rooney looked up again. “As soon as you're
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