Clown School

Clown School

"Perhaps you could join a football team?" said Dad.

"Or take dance lessons?" suggested Mum.

"No thanks," said Roz. "I want to go to Clown School."

Mum and Dad read the leaflet all about the summer school.

"It looks like lots of fun!" said Roz as persuasively as she could.

Mum and Dad talked it over. "Well ... OK," they said at last.

Roz jumped up and punched the air. "YES!"

Clown School started the next week.

Roz was excited as she marched into the room.The other people all looked much older, but she didn't mind.She hurried to a table at the front and sat there eagerly waiting for the first lesson to begin.

The door opened and a tall clown came into the room.

My name is Mr. Bozo," he announced in a deep, serious voice. "I will be your teacher."

A big smile was painted on the teacher's face,but under it his mouth was grim and as straight as an iron rod.

"Learning to be a clown is not all fun and games," he said."I expect you all to work very hard and study a lot."

"Oh dear," thought Roz nervously."This isn't what I expected. I'm here to have fun!"

In the first lesson, Mr. Bozo handed out red noses to everyone in the class.

"A clown is not a proper clown without a red nose," he declared."Put this on and do not lose it!"

Roz put on her red nose, but it felt tight. Very tight...

It stayed on for about two seconds before popping off.

It shot forward and hit Mr. Bozo in the eye.

"That's not funny," growled the teacher.

In the following lesson, Mr. Bozo showed them the rest of the clown costume.

"A proper clown must wear baggy trousers and big, flat shoes," he explained.

Roz put her hand up. "Why?"

"Because they are funny," replied Mr. Bozo as if he was explaining that two plus two equals four.

The rest of the class looked at the clown costume but nobody laughed.

The class had to try walking in clown shoes. It was difficult to balance and a lot of the class wobbled, but only one of them couldn't do it at all.Only one tripped and bumped into teacher. "Sorry!" said Roz.

"Not funny at all," snapped Mr. Bozo.

"So how was Clown School?" Roz's mum asked when she picked her up. "Lots of fun?"

"It was pretty good," mumbled Roz.

The next day Mr. Bozo's mood had not improved.

"Watch carefully," he ordered, picking up two long, thin balloons.He began to bend and twist them. "There!" he said.

He had made the balloons into a dog.

"A proper clown must know how to make balloon animals," the teacher declared.

Mr. Bozo tossed two balloons to Roz. "Now you have a go," he said.

The balloons squeaked in the silence of the classroom as Roz tried to bend and twist them.

At last she made... a big mess! "Try again," sighed Mr. Bozo.

This time the balloons came undone in Roz's hands.

Finally she just held up one of the straight balloons and said,"There! It's a snake having a stretch!"

"That isn't the least bit funny," snarled Mr. Bozo.

"How was school today?" Dad asked as Roz clambered into the car at the end of the second day."Still having fun?" "Sort of," said Roz quietly.She didn't want to admit it, but she was starting to think that Clown School had been a big mistake.

The next morning, Mr. Bozo rode into class on a bike. A tiny bike.

"All proper clowns can ride these little bikes," he announced.

The clowns practised on the little bikes.Most of them got the hang of it. Not Roz!

"Sorry!" she said when she fell off for the fifth time.

"Sorry!" she cried when she ran over the teacher's foot for the tenth time.

"That is not a tiny bit funny!" grumbled Mr. Bozo.

In the next lesson, Mr. Bozo pointed to a flower in the button-hole of his jacket.

"See this lovely flower?" he said to a clown in the front row. "Come and smell it."

When the clown leaned forward cautiously to sniff it, Mr. Bozo squirted him in the face with a jet of water.

SPLAT! "All proper clowns can carry out tricks like that," he explained.

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