Like Miss Honey, she felt sure both ears were going to come off at any moment with all the weight that was on them.
The Trunchbull was shouting, “The word ‘what’ is spelled W... H... A... T. Now spell it, you little wart!”
Eric didn't hesitate. He had learned from watching Rupert a few minutes before that the quicker you answered the quicker you were released.
“W... H... A... T”, he squealed, “spells what!” Still holding him by the ears, the Trunchbull lowered him back into his chair behind his desk.
Then she marched back to the front of the class, dusting off her hands one against the other like someone who has been handling something rather grimy.
“That's the way to make them learn, Miss Honey,” she said. “You take it from me, it's no good just telling them.
You've got to hammer it into them. There's nothing like a little twisting and twiddling to encourage them to remember things.
It concentrates their minds wonderfully.” “You could do them permanent damage, Miss Trunchbull,”
Miss Honey cried out. “Oh, I have, I'm quite sure I have,” the Trunchbull answered, grinning.
“Eric's ears will have stretched quite considerably in the last couple of minutes! They'll be much longer now than they were before.”
“There's nothing wrong with that, Miss Honey. It'll give him an interesting pixie look for the rest of his life.”
“But Miss Trunchbull...” “Oh, do shut up, Miss Honey!”
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