"What is it?" Principal Winter asked, leaning over the child on the playground. Her black suit was sharp on her scarecrow frame, and her white shirt slashed through it. "I'm sorry, Principal Winter," said the girl, her hands cupped around a wriggling green thing. "Mr. Wall sent me to see you."

"No," said Principal Winter. "What is it?" She looked at the girl's hands.

"It's a frog," said Gertie. She looked up, confused. "Don't you know what a frog is?"

"I have seen such things in the past, but I've never bothered to learn what to call them. Are they relevant?" The girl stared at her, then shrugged. "What do you do with it?"

"I like catching them, and I like the way they wriggle in my hands." She giggled.

"You don't eat it, or write with it?"

Gertie stared at her. "No."

"Then you know the rules."

Gertie looked down and away but didn't release the frog. "Yes, Principal Winter."

"No," Winter said. She traced Gertie's outline in the air with her finger. "You know the rules."

Gertie's eyes went slack and her hands fell, dropping the frog. "Yes, Principal Winter."

"Good. Now wash up and go to class."