farther and farther and farther backwards until it was balancing on just one edge of its base.
And there it teetered for a few seconds before finally toppling over and falling with a sharp tinkle on to the desktop.
The water in it and the squirming newt splashed out all over Miss Trunchbull's enormous bosom.
The headmistress let out a yell that must have rattled every windowpane in the building
and for the second time in the last five minutes she shot out of her chair like a rocket.
The newt clutched desperately at the cotton smock where it covered the great chest and there it clung with its little claw-like feet.
The Trunchbull looked down and saw it and she bellowed even louder and with a swipe of her hand she sent the creature flying across the classroom.
It landed on the floor beside Lavender's desk and very quickly she ducked down and picked it up and put it into her pencil box for another time.
A newt, she decided, was a useful thing to have around.
The Trunchbull, her face more like a boiled ham than ever, was standing before the class quivering with fury.
Her massive bosom was heaving in and out and the splash of water down the front of it made a dark wet patch
that had probably soaked right through to her skin.
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