Everybody in Mrs. Jewls\'s class thought she was a very nice teacher.

They were wrong. There is no such thing as a nice teacher.

If you think you have a nice teacher, then you are wrong too.

Inside every nice teacher there is a mean and rotten teacher bursting to get out. The nicer the teacher is on the outside, the meaner the teacher inside is.

As Mrs. Jewls was changing the bulletin board

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before class, a mean and rotten voice whispered inside her brain. "Give the children lots of busy work today," it said. "And then make them do it over again if their handwriting isn\'t perfect."

Mrs. Jewls tried very hard to ignore the voice. She didn\'t like giving busy work. Instead she tried to teach the children three new things every day. She believed that if they learned three new things every day, they would eventually learn everything there is to know.

There are some classes where the teachers give so much busy work that the children never learn anything.

"What do you care if the children learn anything?" asked the mean and rotten voice. "It\'s not your job to teach them. It\'s your job to punish them. Keep them in at recess. Hit them with your yardstick!"

The bell rang and all the kids scurried to their desks.

"We are going to learn three new things today," Mrs. Jewls announced. "How to make pickles, seven plus four, and the capital of England."

All the children paid close attention.

"The capital of England is London," said Mrs. Jewls. "Seven plus four equals eleven. And pickles are made by sticking cucumbers in brine."

On her desk she had a box of cucumbers and a vat of brine for a demonstration.

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"Okay, Joe," said Mrs. Jewls. "How much is seven plus four?"

Joe shrugged.

"But I just told you, Joe," said Mrs. Jewls. "Weren\'t you listening?"

"I don\'t know," said Joe.

"Okay, who can tell me how pickles are made? Yes, Jason."

"Eleven!" Jason declared.

Mrs. Jewls frowned. "That\'s a correct answer," she said, "but unfortunately I didn\'t ask the right question. Can anyone tell me how pickles are made? Yes, Bebe."

"In London," said Bebe.

"I suppose they make some pickles in London," said Mrs. Jewls. "Okay, let\'s start again. Calvin, what\'s the capital of England?"

"Could you write England on the board?" asked Calvin. "I can do a lot better when I can see the question."

Mrs. Jewls wrote England on the board.

"Oh, okay," said Calvin, now that he saw the question. "The capital of England is E."

"Yes, that\'s one capital of England," Mrs. Jewls had to admit. "Okay, I will say it one more time. The capital of England is London."

"Isn\'t that where they make all the pickles?" asked Jenny.

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"No, they don\'t make all the pickles in London," explained Allison. "Just eleven."

"Well, where do they make the rest of the pickles?" asked Stephen.

"Shut up!" shouted Mrs. Jewls. "Well, that does it. You\'re all staying inside for recess!"

Everyone stared at her. Mrs. Jewls had never told anyone to shut up. It was against the class rules for anyone to use that expression. If you did, you had to write your name on the blackboard under the word DISCIPLINE.

Mrs. Jewls put her hand over her mouth, then took it away. "Oh dear, I\'m very sorry," she said. "I don\'t know what came over me."

She wrote her own name on the blackboard under the word DISCIPLINE.

"Perhaps you\'ll learn the lesson better if you write it down," she suggested. "Everyone please take out a piece of paper and a pickle."

Everybody laughed.

"Pencil!" snapped Mrs. Jewls. "I meant to say pencil. It just came out pickle."

"I didn\'t know pickles came from pencils," said Jenny. "I thought they came ............