"Diana Wynne Jones - Witch Week" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Diana Wynne)

drawback was that putting up with Mr. Went-worth also meant putting up with Brian. A little frown
wrinkled Miss Hodge's smooth forehead at the thought of Brian Wentworth. Now there was a boy who
quite deserved the way the rest of 6B were always on to him. Never mind. He could be sent away to
another school.
Meanwhile, in music, Mr. Brubeck was asking Brian to sing on his own. 6B had trailed their way
through "Here We Sit like Birds in the Wilderness." They had made it sound like a lament. "I'd prefer a
wilderness to this place," Estelle Green whispered to her friend Karen Grigg. Then they sang "Cuckaburra
Sits in the Old Gum Tree." That sounded like a funeral dirge. "What's a Cuckaburra?" Karen whispered to
Estelle.
"Another kind of bird," Estelle whispered back. "Aus-tralian."
"No, no, no!" shouted Mr. Brubeck. "Brian is the only one of you who doesn't sound like a cockerel
with a sore throat!"
"Mr. Brubeck must have birds on the brain!" Estelle giggled. And Simon Silverson, who believed,
strongly and sincerely, that nobody was worthy of praise except himself, gave Brian a scathingly jeering
look.
But Mr. Brubeck was far too addicted to music to take any notice of what the rest of 6B thought.
"The Cuckoo is a Pretty Bird,'" he announced. "I want Brian to sing this to you on his own."
Estelle giggled, because it was birds again. Theresa giggled too, because anyone who stood out for
any reason struck her as exceedingly funny. Brian stood up with the song book in his hands. He was never
embarrassed. But instead of singing, he read the words out in an incredulous voice.
'"The cuckoo is a pretty bird, she singeth as she flies. She bringeth us good tidings, she telleth us no
lies.' Sir, why are all these songs about birds?" he asked innocently. Charles thought that was a shrewd
move of Brian's, after the way Simon Silverson had looked at him.
 But it did Brian no good. He was too unpopular. Most of the girls said, "Brian." in shocked voices.
Simon said it jeeringly.
"Quiet!" shouted Mr. Brubeck. "Brian, get on and sing!" He struck notes on the piano.
Brian stood with the book in his hands, obviously wonder-ing what to do. It was clear that he would
be in trouble with Mr. Brubeck if he did not sing, and that he would be hit afterward if he did. And while
Brian hesitated, the witch in 6B took a hand. One of the long windows of the hall flew open with a clap and
let in a stream of birds. Most of them were ordinary birds: sparrows, starlings, pigeons, blackbirds, and
thrushes, swooping round the hall in vast numbers and shedding feathers and droppings as they swooped.
But among the beating wings were two curious furry creatures with large pouches, which kept uttering
violent laughing sounds, and the red and yellow thing swooping among a cloud of sparrows and shouting
"Cuckoo!" was clearly a parrot.
Luckily, Mr. Brubeck thought it was simply the wind which had let the birds in. The rest of the lesson
had to be spent in chasing the birds out again. By that time, the laughing birds with pouches had vanished.
Evidently the witch had decided they were a mistake. But everyone in 6B had clearly seen them. Simon
said importantly, "If this happens again, we all ought to get together and-"
At this, Nirupam Singh turned round, towering among the beating wings. "Have you any proof that
this is not perfectly natural?" he said.
Simon had not, so he said no more.
By the end of the lesson, all the birds had been sent out of the window again, except the parrot. The
parrot escaped to a high curtain rail, where no one could reach it, and sat there shouting "Cuckoo!" Mr.
Brubeck sent 6B away and called the caretaker to get rid of it. Charles trudged away with the rest, thinking
that this must be the end of the games he had predicted in his journal. But he was quite wrong. It was only
the beginning.
And when the caretaker came grumbling along with his small white dog trailing at his heels, to get rid
of the parrot, the parrot had vanished.