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"
But
it
does
teach
them
some
of
the
harder
words
wonderfully
well
,
"
Miss
Honey
murmured
.
"
Don
’
t
argue
with
me
,
Miss
Honey
!
"
the
Headmistress
thundered
.
"
Just
do
as
you
’
re
told
!
I
shall
now
test
the
class
on
the
multiplication
tables
to
see
if
Miss
Honey
has
taught
you
anything
at
all
in
that
direction
.
"
The
Trunchbull
had
returned
to
her
place
in
front
of
the
class
,
and
her
diabolical
gaze
was
moving
slowly
along
the
rows
of
tiny
pupils
.
"
You
!
"
she
barked
,
pointing
at
a
small
boy
called
Rupert
in
the
front
row
.
"
What
is
two
sevens
?
"
"
Sixteen
,
"
Rupert
answered
with
foolish
abandon
.
The
Trunchbull
started
advancing
slow
and
soft
-
footed
upon
Rupert
in
the
manner
of
a
tigress
stalking
a
small
deer
.
Rupert
suddenly
became
aware
of
the
danger
signals
and
quickly
tried
again
.
"
It
’
s
eighteen
!
"
he
cried
.
"
Two
sevens
are
eighteen
,
not
sixteen
!
"
"
You
ignorant
little
slug
!
"
the
Trunchbull
bellowed
.
"
You
witless
weed
!
You
empty
-
headed
hamster
!
You
stupid
glob
of
glue
!
"
She
had
now
stationed
herself
directly
behind
Rupert
,
and
suddenly
she
extended
a
hand
the
size
of
a
tennis
racquet
and
grabbed
all
the
hair
on
Rupert
’
s
head
in
her
fist
.
Rupert
had
a
lot
of
golden
-
coloured
hair
.
His
mother
thought
it
was
beautiful
to
behold
and
took
a
delight
in
allowing
it
to
grow
extra
long
.
The
Trunchbull
had
as
great
a
dislike
for
long
hair
on
boys
as
she
had
for
plaits
and
pigtails
on
girls
and
she
was
about
to
show
it
.
She
took
a
firm
grip
on
Rupert
’
s
long
golden
tresses
with
her
giant
hand
and
then
,
by
raising
her
muscular
right
arm
,
she
lifted
the
helpless
boy
clean
out
of
his
chair
and
held
him
aloft
.
Rupert
yelled
.
He
twisted
and
squirmed
and
kicked
the
air
and
went
on
yelling
like
a
stuck
pig
,
and
Miss
Trunchbull
bellowed
,
"
Two
sevens
are
fourteen
!
Two
sevens
are
fourteen
!
I
am
not
letting
you
go
till
you
say
it
!
"
From
the
back
of
the
class
,
Miss
Honey
cried
out
,
"
Miss
Trunchbull
!
Please
let
him
down
!
You
’
re
hurting
him
!
All
his
hair
might
come
out
!
"
"
And
well
it
might
if
he
doesn
’
t
stop
wriggling
!
"
snorted
the
Trunchbull
.
"
Keep
still
,
you
squirming
worm
!
"
It
really
was
a
quite
extraordinary
sight
to
see
this
giant
Headmistress
dangling
the
small
boy
high
in
the
air
and
the
boy
spinning
and
twisting
like
something
on
the
end
of
a
string
and
shrieking
his
head
off
.
