free concert in the school gym. All the students loved the music and danced and rocked for hours. The teachers hated it and tried to get the speakers turned down. Eventually the roof couldnât take the blast from the speakers and started to crack and all the roof beams bent out of shape. School was closed for good. Danny was a hero. âYou donât need school anyway,â said the Barenaked Ladies, âbut we need a âMr. Fix-Itâ. Come on the road with us and fix our equipment.â So he did and became rich and famous.
By that time Socials period was over.
Each evening Danny took out his calendar and crossed off the days to the weekend. Each morning he doggedly arrived at school. He was totally surprised if somethingpleasant happened during a school day.
Friday was a surprise.
âToday is the day you get one hourâs project research time in the library,â announced Mr. Berg with a big smile.
Danny sat up straight in his desk. Great. He liked working in the library. Heâd chosen his favourite topicââIndiansââand knew where there were a couple of books he could look at.
âBy the end of the afternoon I want you to each hand in a one-page outline of your project,â continued Mr. Berg. âIt should start with a clear and concise explanation of your project, about one paragraph in length. Underneath the paragraph, in point form, list the topics or chapters you will be covering.â
The whole class groaned, Dannyâs groan was loudest and he slumped back in his seat.
Mr. Berg looked in his direction with a frown. âWhatâs the matter Danny, donât you have a project?â
âI do Mr. Berg. Honest I do,â Danny stammered. âIâve been working on it all week. Iâve a collection of post cards and I know lots of stuff and Iâve talked to people. Itâs justâ¦â he tailed off, wondering how he was going to organize and write it all down so that Mr. Berg could read it.
âWell if youâve done all that, youâve got a head start,â Mr. Berg said briskly. âLine up by the door, Grade 5, and walk quietly to the library.â
Danny sat miserably at his library table. He had tons of information in his head. Heâd organized his picture postcard card collection in a box at home ready to illustrate his report. The cards showed scenes of early life on the prairie, Indian encampments, tipi rings and the Indian clothing displays in the Fort Macleod museum. He had his lance point. He planned on painting a picture of the young hunter he had imagined knapping the flint point. He had met a real Indian kid and his grandfather and was going to visit Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump with them. Dannyâs project was all set to go. Except that he had to write it!
Danny looked around the library in despair. It was quiet,much quieter than usual as his whole class had their heads down at the tables, scribbling away furiously in order to hand their outlines in on time. Mr. Berg was looking pleased and talking to the librarian in a low voice.
âThis is just what this class needs,â Mr. Berg murmured in a satisfied tone. âA project that they can get their teeth into. They are a bright bunch on the whole apart fromâ¦â He stopped and his eyes swept the room and locked with Dannyâs.
Danny flushed scarlet, bent his head down and crooked an arm protectively over his paper. He knew what Mr. Berg had been going to sayââapart from Dannyâ. He looked sadly at the paper in front of him. It was black and smudged with eraser marks, crossings out and badly scrawled words written several times in an effort to spell them correctly. He sighed. Why was it so difficult to organize his thoughts and knowledge into a one-page outline when it was stuff he knew?
Footsteps approached and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Sure enough Mr. Bergâs hand expertly whisked the paper
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