Free Winter According to Humphrey (9781101591222) by Betty G. Birney Page A

in my cage and putting on a magic backpack and—whoosh—I’d be on top of Mount Everest (although it would be a little cold there for a hamster). Or I’d be surfing on the Pacific Ocean (although it would be a little wet there for a hamster). I could be on the streets of a big, bustling city (although it would be a little dangerous there for a hamster).
    Maybe a magic backpack wasn’t such a great idea after all, at least for a small creature like me. But that cream pie sounded YUMMY-YUMMY-YUMMY!
    I glanced over at Daniel and could see that his mind was miles away.
    â€œBoy, if I had that magic backpack, when it was time to practice piano, I could put it on and fly to an amusement park,” he said.
    â€œDon’t you like playing piano ? ” I asked, wishing that he could understand.
    â€œI like the piano,” Daniel said. “But every time I practice, I make so many mistakes, it sounds awful. That’s why I don’t like to practice.”
    I saw his point, but I also thought that if you don’t practice something, you’ll never, ever get better at it. There was no use trying to explain that to Daniel, though. I knew that all he’d hear would be squeaks.
    Daniel stared at the cover of the book. “This D. D. Denby is a genius,” he said. “Imagine writing a book like this.”
    Then he opened the book again and leaned back on his pillow. “I’ve got to find out what happens next.”
    Reading is great, but it’s not too interesting to
watch
someone read. So I hopped back on my wheel and did some more spinning. I went faster and faster and faster until I suddenly screeched to a stop.
    My brain was still spinning, though, because I had an idea. What if there was a story about a hamster who had a magic wheel ? He could spin that wheel and go anywhere he wanted! Now, that was a story I’d like to read in a book. I got so caught up thinking about that idea, I didn’t notice that it had gotten dark. Daniel had turned on the lamp by his bed.
    He suddenly closed the book and sat up. “That’s it!” he said. “Finished.”
    He stared down at the cover. “I sure wish I had a magic backpack to help me get out of playing piano at school,” he sighed.
    â€œBut you don’t!” I squeaked. “So you need to practice.”
    Daniel read the back of the book’s cover. “There are five more magic backpack books,” he said. “I hope I get the next one for Christmas.”
    Just then, Grandpa Popwell came into the room. “It’s awfully quiet,” he said. “I thought maybe you’d fallen asleep.” Then he chuckled. “I guess maybe I dozed off myself. So, how about showing me what a great piano player you are ? ”
    â€œI’m hungry,” Daniel said. “Can we do it later ? ”
    â€œI’ll tell you what,” Grandpa said. “You play a song for me now and then we can eat.”
    Daniel wrinkled his nose. “Just
one
song ? ”
    Grandpa agreed.
    They started out the door, but Grandpa came back for my cage. “I bet you don’t want to miss this. Do you, Humphrey ? ” he said.
    He was RIGHT-RIGHT-RIGHT. But I was prepared to dive under my bedding if Daniel’s playing sounded as terrible as it had at school.
    Back in the living room, Grandpa put my cage right on top of the piano so I had a hamster’s-eye view of the keys. I was unsqueakably thankful!
    Daniel sat down on the piano bench, opened a piece of music and began to play.
    I was expecting to hear “Jingle Bells,” but instead he played another song. I knew that song, too. It’s called “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”
    I was sorry that Daniel wasn’t practicing “Jingle Bells,” but at least he hit the right notes for “Twinkle, Twinkle.”
    Grandpa clapped when Daniel finished. “Well done,” he said. “But wasn’t that a