A cirrus cloud drifted over Mr. Huber's yard. "Blasted clouds!" he bellowed, shaking his fist at it. He was trying to see what exact color his CD 125 Brookfield was, and the cloud blocked the light. As the cloud passed, Mr. Hubert's temper did, too. He went back to studying his insulator. 

Mr. Hubert, as you have just read, has a terrible temper, especially when something interrupts his work. So, naturally, when the doorbell echoed throughout his house, you can guess what happened. Mr. Hubert slowly lowered his head, and then -- Mr. Hubert smiled joyously. He swam over to the door (literally; he had accidentally flooded his house while washing insulators earlier that day), and opened the door. After the water gushed out, a delivery boy said, "I 'ave a paper for you to sign, Mister." Mr. Hubert signed the paper, snatching the box away that the delivery boy had been holding, as if the boy could damage the precious package. Mr. Hubert slammed the door shut and opened the box. Out came an insulator of a whole new CD type. "Oooh, he sighed, Dark Purple, No... wait. Cobalt? Amber?" He rushed outside, mumbling to himself, "Deep Teal? Dark Olive? Black Glass?" He then looked up. "Blasted clouds!" This is Mr. Hubert's regular routine. 

He was so upset, he ran back into his house and into his bedroom. Two minutes later, he ran out of the room with a strange assortment of light bulbs. He strung them together all through the house, plugging cords in wherever he could. Then, right when he plugged in the last cord, ZZZTTZzzzzz. (Bloop). The house suddenly went dark. Mr. Hubert sighed. Obviously, making his own cloudless light wouldn't work. To cheer himself up he made a cold cup of Ovaltine, then he looked at his glass of chocolate milk, his mind made a connection. He rushed to his box of candles. He lit one, and looked at it through one of his insulators. The insulator looked milky! "Aha!" he cried, "it wasn't the clouds! My insulator has milk!"