Horrid Henry and the Mummy's Curse - Internet Archive...Originally published in Great Britain in...
Transcript of Horrid Henry and the Mummy's Curse - Internet Archive...Originally published in Great Britain in...
HORRIDHENRYANDTHEMUMMY’SCURSE
MeetHORRIDHENRYthelaugh-out-loudworldwidesensation!
Over15millioncopiessoldin27countriesandcounting
#1chapterbookseriesintheUK
Francesca Simon is the onlyAmerican author to everwin theGalaxyBritishBookAwardsChildren’sBookoftheYear(pastwinnersincludeJ.K.Rowling,PhilipPullman,andEoinColfer).
HorridHenryisafabulousantihero…amoderncomicclassic.”—Guardian
“Wonderfully appealing to girls and boys alike, a precious rarity at thisage.”—JudithWoods,Times
“Thebestchildren’scomicwriter.”—AmandaCraig,Times
“I love theHorridHenrybooks byFrancesca Simon. They have lots offunny bits in. And Henry always gets into trouble!” —Mia, age 6, BBCLearningIsFun
“Mytwoboyslovethisbook,andIhaveactuallyhadtearsrunningdownmy face and had to stop reading because of laughing so hard.” —T.Franklin,Parent
“It’seasytoseewhyHorridHenryisthebestsellingcharacterforfive-toeight-year-olds.”—LiverpoolEcho
“Francesca Simon’s truly horrific little boy is a monstrously enjoyablecreation. Parents love them becauseHenrymakes their own little darlingsseemlikeangels.”—GuardianChildren’sBooksSupplement
“IhavetriedouttheHorridHenrybookswithgroupsofchildrenasaparent,as a babysitter, and as a teacher.Children love to either hear them readaloudortoreadthemthemselves.”—DanielleHall,Teacherparentswhenthey readHorridHenry.There’s a tiny bit of him in all of us.”—NancyAstee,ChildEducation
“Asateacher…it’sgreattogetaseriesofbooksmyclassloves.TheygomadforHorridHenry.”—Ateacher
“Henry is a beguiling hero who has entranced millions of reluctantreaders.”—Herald
“AnabsutelyfantasticseriesandsurelyawinnerwithallchildrenLongLiveFrancescaSimonandherbrilliantbooks
Moremoreplease!”—Aparent
“Laugh-out-loudreadingforbothadultsandchildrenalike.”—Aparent
“Horrid Henry certainly lives up to his name, and his antics areeverythingyouhopeyourownchildwillavoid—which ispreciselywhyyoungerchildrensoenjoythesetales.”—IndependentonSunday
“Henrymightbeunbelievablynaughty,totallywicked,andutterlyhorrid,butheisfrequentlycreditedwithconvertingthemostreluctantreadersintoenthusiasticones…superbinitssimplicity.”—LiverpoolEcho
“Willmakeyoulaughoutloud.”—SundayTimes
“Parents reading them aloud may be consoled to discover that Henry canalways be relied upon to behave worse than any of their own offspring.”—Independent
“WhatisbrilliantaboutthebooksisthatHenryneverdoesanythingthatissubversive.Shecreatesanauraofsupremenaughtiness(ofwhichchildrenare in awe) but points out that he operates within a safe and secureworld…eminentlyreadablebooks.”—EmilyTurner,AngelsandUrchins
“Inventiveandfunny,withappealforboysandgirlsalike,andsuperillustrationsbyTonyRoss.”
—JewishChronicle
“Accompanied by fantastic black-and-white drawings, the book is a joy toread.Horrid Henry has an irresistible appeal to everyone—child andadultalike!He is the child everyone is familiarwith—irritating, annoying,butyoustillcannothelplaughingwhenhegetsintoyetanotherscrape.Not
quiteadevilindisguisebutyoucannothelpwonderingattimes!Nowonderheissopopular!”—AngelaYoungman
HorridHenrybyFrancescaSimon
HorridHenryHorridHenryTrickstheToothFairy
HorridHenryandtheMega-MeanTimeMachine
HorridHenry’sStinkbomb
HorridHenryandtheMummy’sCurse
HorridHenryandtheSoccerFiend
HorridHenryTricksandTreats
HorridHenry’sChristmas
HORRIDHENRYANDTHEMUMMY’SCURSE
FrancescaSimon
IllustratedbyTonyRoss
Text©FrancescaSimon2000Internalillustrations©TonyRoss2000Coverillustrations©TonyRoss2008Coverandinternaldesign©2009bySourcebooks,Inc.
SourcebooksandthecolophonareregisteredtrademarksofSourcebooks,Inc.
Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedinanyformorbyany electronic or mechanical means including information storage andretrievalsystems—exceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsembodiedincriticalarticles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher,Sourcebooks,Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are usedfictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purelycoincidentalandnotintendedbytheauthor.
PublishedbySourcebooksJabberwocky,animprintofSourcebooks,Inc.P.O.Box4410,Naperville,Illinois60567–4410(630)961–3900Fax:(630)961–2168www.jabberwockykids.com
OriginallypublishedinGreatBritainin2000byOrionChildren’sBooks.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData
Simon,Francesca. HorridHenry and themummy’s curse / Francesca Simon ; illustrated byTonyRoss.p.cm.
Originallypublished:GreatBritain:OrionChildren’sBooks,2000.
[1.Behavior—Fiction.]I.Ross,Tony,ill.II.Title.
PZ7.S604Hoaq2009
[Fic]—dc22
2008039688
PrintedandboundintheUnitedStatesofAmerica.
VP10987654321
Formyfriendsandadvisers,JoeandFreddyGaminara
CONTENTS
1HorridHenry’sHobby
2HorridHenry’sHomework
3HorridHenry’sSwimmingLesson
4HorridHenryandtheMummy’sCurse
1
HORRIDHENRY’SHOBBY
“Out ofmyway,worm!” shriekedHorridHenry, pushing past his youngerbrotherPerfectPeteranddashingintothekitchen.
“NO!”screamedPerfectPeter.HescrambledafterHenryandclutchedhisleg.
“Getoffme!”shoutedHenry.HegrabbedtheunopenedSweetTweetcerealbox.“Nahnahnenahnah,Igotitfirst.”
PerfectPeterlungedfortheSweetTweetboxandsnatcheditfromHenry.“Butit’smyturn!”
“No,mine!”shriekedHenry.
Herippedopenthetopandstuckhishandinside.
“It’smine!”shriekedPeter.Herippedopenthebottom.
Asmallwrappedtoyfelltothefloor.
HenryandPeterbothlungedforit.
“Gimmethat!”yelledHenry.
“Butit’smyturntohaveit!”yelledPeter.
“Stopbeinghorrid,Henry!”shoutedMom.“Nowgivemethatthing!”
HenryandPeterbothheldontight.
“NO!” screamed Henry and Peter. “IT’S MY TURN TO HAVE THETOY!”
HorridHenryandPerfectPeterbothcollectedGizmos frominsideSweetTweetcerealboxes.Sodideveryoneattheirschool.Thereweretendifferentcolored Gizmos to collect, from the common green to the rare gold. BothHenryandPeterhadGizmosofeverycolor.Exceptforone.Gold.
“Right,”saidMom,“whoseturnisittogetthetoy?”
“MINE!”screamedHenryandPeter.
“Hegot the lastone!”screechedHenry.“Remember—heopenedthenewboxandgottheblueGizmo.”
ItwastruethatPerfectPeterhadgottheblueGizmo—twoboxesago.ButwhyshouldPetergetany?Ifhehadn’tstartedcollectingGizmostocopyme,thoughtHenryresentfully,I’dgeteverysingleone.
“NO!”howledPeter.Heburstintotears.“Henryopenedthelastbox.”
“Crybaby,”jeeredHenry.
“Stopit,”saidPeter.
“Stopit,”mimickedHenry.
“Mom,Henry’steasingme,”wailedPeter.
“Iremembernow,”saidMom.“It’sPeter’sturn.”
“Thankyou,Mom,”saidPerfectPeter.
“It’s not fair!” screamed Horrid Henry as Peter tore open the wrapping.Therewasagoldgleam.
“Ohmygoodness,”gaspedPeter.“AgoldGizmo!”
HorridHenryfeltasifhe’dbeenpunchedinthestomach.Hestaredattheglorious,glowing,goldenGizmo.
“It’snotfair!”howledHenry.“IwantagoldGizmo!”
“I’msorry,Henry,”saidMom.“It’llbeyourturnnext.”
“ButIwantthegoldone!”screamedHenry.
He leaped on Peter and yanked the Gizmo out of his hand. He wasHurricaneHenryuprootingeverythinginhispath.
“Hellllllllp!”howledPeter.
“Stop being horrid, Henry, or nomoreGizmos for you!” shoutedMom.“Nowcleanupthismessandgetdressed.”
“NO!” howled Henry. He ran upstairs to his room, slamming the doorbehindhim.
Hehad tohaveagoldGizmo.Hesimplyhad to.Nooneatschoolhadagold one. Henry could see himself now, the center of attention, everyonepushingandshovingjusttogetalookathisgoldGizmo.Henrycouldcharge50¢ apeek.Everyonewouldwant to see it and tohold it.Henrywouldbe
invited to every birthday party. Instead, Peter would be the star attraction.Henrygnashedhisteethjustthinkingaboutit.
Buthowcouldhegetone?Youcouldn’tbuyGizmos.Youcouldonlygetthem insideSweetTweetcerealboxes.Momwas someanshemadeHenryand Peter finish the old box before she’d buy a new one.Henry had eatenmountainsofSweetTweetcerealtocollectallhisGizmos.Allthathardworkwouldbeinvain,unlesshegotagoldone.
Hecould,ofcourse, stealPeter’s.ButPeterwouldbesure tonotice,andHenrywouldbethechiefsuspect.
Hecouldswap.Yes!HewouldofferPetertwogreens!Thatwasgenerous.In fact, that was really generous. But Peter hated doing swaps. For somereasonhealwaysthoughtHenrywastryingtocheathim.
And then suddenly Henry had a brilliant, spectacular idea. True, it didinvolvealittletinyteensyweensybitoftrickery,butHenry’scausewasjust.He’dbeencollectingGizmos far longer thanPeterhad.Hedeservedagoldone,andPeterdidn’t.
“So,yougotagoldGizmo,”saidHenry,poppingintoPeter’sroom.“I’mreallysorry.”
Perfect Peter looked up from polishing his Gizmos. “Why?” he saidsuspiciously.“EveryonewantsagoldGizmo.”
HorridHenry looked sadly at Perfect Peter. “Not anymore. They’re veryunlucky,youknow.Everysinglepersonwho’sgotonehasdiedhorribly.”
PerfectPeterstaredatHenry,thenathisgoldenGizmo.
“That’snottrue,Henry.”
“Yesitis.”
“Noitisn’t.”
HorridHenrywalkedslowlyaroundPeter’sroom.Everysooftenhemadealittlenoteinanotebook.
“Marbles, check.Three knights, check.Nature kit—nah.Coin collection,check.”
“Whatareyoudoing?”saidPeter.
“JustlookingatyourstufftoseewhatIwantwhenyou’regone.”
“Stop it!” saidPeter. “You justmade that up about goldGizmos—didn’t
you?”
“No,” said Henry. “It’s in all the newspapers. There was the boy outwalkinghisdogwhofellintoapitofmoltenlava.
Therewasthegirlwhodrownedinthetoilet,andthenthatpoorboywho—”
“Idon’twanttodie,”saidPerfectPeter.Helookedpale.“WhatamIgoingtodo?”
Henry paused. “There’s nothing you can do. Once you’ve got it you’resunk.”
Peterjumpedup.
“I’llthrowitaway!”
“Thatwouldn’twork,”saidHenry.
“You’dstillbejinxed.There’sonlyonewayout—”
“What?”saidPerfectPeter.
“If yougive thegold away to someonebrave enough to take it, then thejinxpassestothem.”
“Butnoonewilltakeitfromme!”wailedPeter.
“Tellyouwhat,”saidHenry.“I’lltaketherisk.”
“Areyousure?”saidPeter.
“Ofcourse,”saidHorridHenry.“You’remybrother.You’d riskyour lifeforme.”
“OK,”saidPeter.HehandedHenry thegoldGizmo.“Thankyou,Henry.You’rethebestbrotherintheworld.”
“Iknow,”saidHorridHenry.
HeactuallyhadhisveryowngoldGizmoinhishand.Itwashis,fairandsquare.Hecouldn’twaittoseeMoodyMargaret’sfacewhenhewaveditinfrontofher.AndRudeRalph.Hewouldbegreenwithenvy.
ThenPerfectPeterburstintotearsandrandownstairs.
“Mom!”hewailed.“Henry’sgoingtodie!Andit’sallmyfault.”
“What?”screechedMom.
Uhoh,thoughtHenry.Heclutchedhistreasure.
Momstormedupstairs.ShesnatchedthegoldGizmofromHenry.
“Howcouldyoubesohorrid,Henry?”shoutedMom.“NoTVforaweek!PoorPeter.Nowgetready.We’regoingshopping.”
“NO!”howledHenry.“I’mnotgoing!”
***
HorridHenry scowled as he followedMom up and down the aisles of theHappyShopper.He’dcrashedthecartintosomepeoplesoMomwouldn’tlethim push it. Then she caught him filling the cart with chips and soda andmadehimputthemallback.Whatahorriblerottendaythishadturnedoutto
be.
“Yum,cabbage,”saidPerfectPeter.“Couldwegetsome?”
“Certainly,”saidMom.
“Andspinach,myfavorite!”saidPeter.
“Helpyourself,”saidMom.
“Iwantcandy!”screamedHenry.
“No,”saidMom.
“Iwantdoughnuts!”screamedHenry.
“No!”screamedMom.
“There’snothingtoeathere!”shriekedHenry.
“Stopbeinghorrid,Henry,”hissedMom.“Everyone’slooking.”
“Idon’tcare.”
“WellIdo,”saidMom.“Nowmakeyourselfuseful.GoandgetaboxofSweetTweets.”
“Allright,”saidHenry.Nowwashischancetoescape.BeforeMomcouldstophimhegrabbedacartandwhizzedoff.
“Watchoutfortheracingdriver!”squealedHenry.Shoppersscatteredashezoomeddowntheaisleandscreechedtoahaltinfrontofthecerealsection.ThereweretheSweetTweets.Ahugepileofthem,inadisplaytower,underatwinklingsignsaying,“AfreeGizmoineverybox!Collectthemall!”
Henryreachedforaboxandputitinhiscart.
AndthenHorridHenrystopped.WhatwasthepointofbuyingawholeboxifitjustcontainedanothergreenGizmo?Henrydidn’tthinkhecouldbearit.I’ll just checkwhat’s inside, he thought. Then, if it is a green one, I’ll be
preparedforthedisappointment.
Carefully,heopenedtheboxandslippedhishandinside.Aha!Therewasthetoy.Helifteditout,andheldituptothelight.Rats!AgreenGizmo,justwhathe’dfeared.
But wait. There was bound to be a child out there longing for a greenGizmo to complete his collection just asmuch asHenrywas longing for agold.Wouldn’titbeselfishandhorridofHenrytotakeagreenhedidn’tneedwhenitwouldmakesomeoneelsesohappy?
I’lljustpeekinsideonemorebox,thoughtHorridHenry,replacingtheboxhe’dopenedandreachingforanother.
Rip!Hetoreitopen.Red.
Hmmm,thoughtHenry.Redissurplustorequirements.
Rip!Anotherboxopened.Blue.
Rip!Rip!Rip!
Green!Green!Blue!
I’ll just tryonemoreat theback, thoughtHenry.Hestoodon tiptoe,andstretchedasfarashecould.Hishandreachedinsidetheboxandgrabbedholdofthetoy.
Thetowerwobbled.
CRASH!
HorridHenrysprawledontheground.HenrywascoveredinSweetTweets.Sowasthefloor.Sowerealltheshoppers.
“HELP!”screamedthemanager,skiddinginthemess.“Whosehorridboyisthis?”
Therewasaverylongsilence.
“Mine,”whisperedMom.
***
HorridHenrysatinthekitchensurroundedbyboxesandboxesandboxesof Sweet Tweets. He’d be eating Sweet Tweets for breakfast, lunch, anddinnerforweeks.Butitwasworthit,thoughtHenryhappily.Bannedforlifefrom the Happy Shopper, how wonderful. He uncurled his hand to enjoyagaintheglintofgold.
Although he had noticed that Scrummy Yummies were offering a freeTwizzlecardineverybox.Hmmmm,Twizzlecards.
2
HORRIDHENRY’SHOMEWORK
Ahhhh,thoughtHorridHenry.HeturnedontheTVandstretchedout.Schoolwas over.What could be better than lying on the sofa all afternoon, eatingchipsandwatchingTV?Wasn’tlifegreat?
ThenMom came in. She did not look like amomwho thought lifewasgrand.Shelookedlikeamomonthewarpathagainstboyswholayonsofasallafternoon,eatingchipsandwatchingTV.
“Getyourfeetoffthesofa,Henry!”saidMom.
“Unh,”gruntedHenry.
“Stopgettingchipseverywhere!”snappedMom.
“Unh,”gruntedHenry.
“Haveyoudoneyourhomework,Henry?”saidMom.
Henrydidn’tanswer.
“HENRY!”shoutedMom.
“WHAT!”shoutedHenry.
“Haveyoudoneyourhomework?”
“Whathomework?”saidHenry.HekepthiseyesgluedtotheTV.
“Go,Mutants!”hescreeched.
“Thefivespellingwordsyouaresupposedtolearntonight,”saidMom.
“Oh,”saidHenry.“Thathomework.”
Horrid Henry hated homework. He had far better things to do with hisprecioustimethanlearnhowtospell“zipper”orworkouttheanswerto6×7. ForweeksHenry’s homework sheets had ended up in the recycling boxuntilDad found them.Henry sworehehadno ideahow theygot there andblamedFluffythecat,butsincethenMomandDadhadcheckedhisschoolbageveryday.
MomsnatchedtheremoteandswitchedofftheTV.
“Hey,I’mwatching!”saidHenry.
“Whenareyougoingtodoyourhomework,Henry?”saidMom.
“SOON!” screamed Henry. He’d just returned from a long, hard day atschool.Couldn’thehaveanypeacearoundhere?Whenhewaskinganyonewhosaidtheword“homework”wouldgetthrowntothecrocodiles.
“IhadaphonecalltodayfromMissBattle-Axe,”saidMom.“Shesaidyougotazerointhelasttenspellingtests.”
“That’snotmyfault,”saidHenry.“FirstIlostthewords,thenIforgot,thenIcouldn’treadmywriting,thenIcopiedthewordswrong,then—”
“Idon’twant tohearanymoresillyexcuses,”saidMom.“Doyouknowyourspellingwordsfortomorrow?”
“Yes,”liedHenry.
“Where’sthelist?”Momasked.
“Idon’tknow,”saidHenry.
“FinditornoTVforamonth,”saidMom.
“It’snotfair,”mutteredHenry,diggingthecrumpledspellinglistoutofhispocket.
Momlookedatit.
“There’sgoingtobeatesttomorrow,”shesaid.“Howdoyouspell‘goat’?”
“Don’tyouknowhow,Mom?”askedHenry.
“Henry…”saidMom.
Henryscowled.
“I’m busy,” moaned Henry. “I promise I’ll tell you right after MutantMadman.It’smyfavoriteshow.”
“Howdoyouspell‘goat’?”saidMom.
“G-O-T-E,”snappedHenry.
“Wrong,”saidMom.“Whatabout‘boat’?”
“WhydoIhavetodothis?”wailedHenry.
“Because it’s your homework,” said Mom. “You have to learn how tospell.”
“Butwhy?”saidHenry.“Ineverwriteletters.”
“Because,”saidMom.“Nowspell“boat.”
“B-O-T-T-E,”saidHenry.
“NomoreTVuntilyoudoyourhomework,”saidMom.
“I’vedoneallmyhomework,”saidPerfectPeter.“Infact, Ienjoyed it somuchI’vealreadydonetomorrow’shomeworkaswell.”
HenrypouncedonPeter.Hewasacannibal tenderizinghisvictimforthepot.
“Eeeeyowwww!”screamedPeter.
“Henry!Gotoyourroom!”shoutedMom.“Anddon’tcomeoutuntilyouknowallyourspellingwords!”
HorridHenrystompedupstairsandslammedhisbedroomdoor.Thiswassounfair!Hewasfartoobusytobotherwithstupid,boring,uselessspelling.Forinstance,hehadn’treadthenewMutantMadmancomicbook.Hehadn’tfinisheddrawingthattreasuremap.Andhehadn’tevenbeguntoorganizehisnewcollectionofTwizzlecards.Homeworkwouldhavetowait.
Therewasjustoneproblem.MissBattle-Axehadsaidthateveryonewho
spelled all theirwords correctly tomorrowwouldget apackofBigBoppercandy. Henry loved Big Bopper candy.Mom andDad hardly ever let himhavethem.Butwhyonearthdidhehavetolearnspellingwordstogetsome?Ifhewere the teacher,he’donlygivecandy tochildrenwhocouldn’tspell.Henrysighed.He’djusthavetositdownandlearnthosestupidwords.
4:30. Mom burst into the room. Henry was lying on his bed reading acomic.
“Henry!Whyaren’tyoudoingyourhomework?”saidMom.
“I’lldoitinasec,”saidHenry.“I’mjustfinishingthispage.”
“Henry…”saidMom.
Henryputdownthecomic.
Momleft.Henrypickedupthecomic.
5:30.Dadburstintotheroom.Henrywasplayingwithhisknights.
“Henry!Whyaren’tyoudoingyourhomework?”saidDad.
“I’mtired!”yawnedHenry.“I’mjusttakingalittlebreak.It’shardhavingsomuchwork!”
“Henry,you’veonlygotfivewordstolearn!”saidDad.“Andyou’vejustspenttwohoursnotlearningthem.”
“Allright,”snarledHenry.Slowly,hepickeduphisspellinglist.Thenheputitdownagain.Hehadtogetinthemood.Soothingmusic,that’swhatheneeded.HorridHenryswitchedonhisradio.TheterriblesoundoftheDrillerCannibalsboomedthroughthehouse.
“OH,I’MACAN-CAN-CANNIBAL!”screamedHenry,stompingaroundhis room. “DON’TCALLMEANANIMAL JUST ’CAUSE I’MACAN-CAN-CANNIBAL!”
MomandDadstormedintoHenry’sbedroomandturnedoffthemusic.
“That’senough,Henry!”saidDad.
“DOYOURHOMEWORK!”screamedMom.
“IFYOUDON’TGETEVERYSINGLEWORDRIGHTINYOURTESTTOMORROWTHERE
WILLBENOTELEVISIONFORAWEEK!”shoutedDad.
EEEK!NoTVandnocandy!Thiswastoomuch.HorridHenrylookedathisspellingwordswithloathing.
GOAT
BOAT
SAID
STOAT
FRIEND
“I hate goats! I’ll never need to spell the word ‘goat’ in my life,” saidHenry.Hehatedgoat’scheese.Hehatedgoat’smilk.Hethoughtgoatsweresmelly.Thatwasonewordhe’ddefinitelyneverneedtoknow.
Thenextwordwas“boat.”Whoneedstospellthat?thoughtHenry.I’mnotgoing to be a sailorwhen I growup. I get seasick. In fact, it’s bad formyhealthtolearnhowtospell“boat.”
As for “said,”what did itmatter if he spelled it “sed”? It was perfectlyunderstandable, written “sed.” Only an old fusspot like Miss Battle-Axewouldmindsuchatinymistake.
Thentherewas“stoat.”Whatonearthwasastoat?Whatamean,sneakyword.Henrywouldn’tknowastoatifitsatonhim.Ofalltheuseless,horrible
words,“stoat”wastheworst.Trusthisteacher,MissBattle-Axe,tomakehimlearnahorrible,uselesswordlikestoat.
Thelastwordwas“friend.”Well,arealfriendlikeRudeRalphdidn’tcarehowtheword“friend”wasspelled.AsfarasHenrywasconcernedanyfriendwhomindedhowhespelled“friend”wasnofriend.MissBattle-Axeincludedthatwordtotorturehim.
Five whole spelling words. It was too much. I’ll never learn so manywords,thoughtHenry.Butwhatabouttomorrow?He’dhavetowatchMoodyMargaretandJollyJoshandCleverClarechompingawayat thosedeliciousBigBoppers,whilehe,Henry,hadtognashhisemptyteeth.PlusnoTVforaweek! Henry couldn’t live that long without TV! He was sunk. He wasdoomedtobecandy-less,andTV-less.
But wait.What if there was a way to get that candy without the horridhassleoflearningtospell?Suddenly,Henryhadabrilliant,spectacularidea.ItwassosimpleHenrycouldn’tbelievehe’dneverthoughtofitbefore.
He sat next to Clever Clare. Clare always knew the spelling words. AllHenry had to dowas to take a little peek at herwork. If he positioned hischair right, he’d easily be able to seewhat shewrote.And hewouldn’t becopying her, no way. Just double-checking. I am a genius, thought HorridHenry. 100% right on the test. Loads ofBigBopper candy.Mom andDadwouldbesothrilledthey’dlethimwatchextraTV.Hurray!
HorridHenry swaggered intoclass thenextmorning.Hesatdown inhisseatbetweenCleverClareandBeefyBert.Carefully,heinchedhischairoverafractionsothathehadagoodviewofClare’spaper.
“Spellingtest!”barkedMissBattle-Axe.“Firstword—goat.”
Clarebentoverherpaper.Henrypretendedhewasstaringatthewall,then,quickasaflash,heglancedatherworkandwrote“goat.”
“Boat,” said Miss Battle-Axe. Again Horrid Henry sneaked a look at
Clare’spaperandcopiedher.Andagain.Andagain.
Thisisfantastic,thoughtHenry.I’llneverhavetolearnanyspellingwords.Justthinkofallthecomicbookshecouldreadinsteadofwastinghistimeonhomework!HesneakedapeekatBeefyBert’spaper.Blank.Haha, thoughtHenry.
Therewasonlyoneword left.Henrycould taste the tingly tangofaBigBopperalready.Wouldn’theswaggeraround!Andnowaywouldhesharehiscandywithanyone.
Suddenly,Clare shifted position and edged away from him.Rats!Henrycouldn’tseeherpaperanymore.
“Lastword,”boomedMissBattle-Axe.“Friend.”
Henrytwistedinhisseat.Hecouldseethefirstfourwords.Hejustneededtogetatinybitcloser…
Clarelookedathim.Henrystaredattheceiling.Clareglared,thenlookedbackatherpaper.Quickly,Henry leanedoverand…YES!Hecopieddownthefinalword,“friend.”
Victory!
Chomp!Chomp!Chomp!Mmmmm,boy,didthoseBigBopperstastegreat!
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. It wasMiss Battle-Axe. She wassmilingathimwithhergreatbigyellowteeth.
MissBattle-AxehadneversmiledatHenrybefore.
“Well, Henry,” said Miss Battle-Axe. “What an improvement! I’mthrilled.”
“Thankyou,”saidHenrymodestly.
“Infact,you’vedonesowellI’mpromotingyoutothetopspellinggroup.Twenty-fiveextrawordsanight.Here’sthelist.”
Horrid Henry’s jaws stopped chomping. He looked in horror at the newspellinglist.Itwaslitteredwithwords.Butnotjustanywords.Awfulwords.Meanwords.Longwords.HARDwords.
Hieroglyphs.
Trapezium.
Diarrhea.
“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”shriekedHorridHenry.
3
HORRIDHENRY’SSWIMMINGLESSON
Ohno!thoughtHorridHenry.Hepulledtheblankettightlyoverhishead.Itwas Thursday. Horrible, horrible, Thursday. The worst day of the week.HorridHenrywascertainThursdayscamemoreoftenthananyotherday.
Thursdaywashisclassswimmingday.HenryhadanaggingfeelingthatthisThursdaywasevenworsethanalltheotherawfulThursdays.
HorridHenry liked the bus ride to the pool. HorridHenry liked doing thedanceoftheseventowelsinthechangingroom.Healsolikedhidinginthelockers,throwingsocksinthepool,andsplashingeveryone.
TheonlythingHenrydidn’tlikeaboutgoingswimmingwas…swimming.
Thetruthwas,HorridHenryhatedwater.Ugggh!Waterwasso…wet!Andsoggy. The chlorine stung his eyes. He never knewwhat horrorsmight belurkinginthedeepend.Andthepoolwassocoldpenguinscouldflyinforthewinter.
Fortunately, Henry had a brilliant list of excuses. He’d pretend he hadwarts, or a tummyache, or had lost his swimsuit.Unfortunately, themean,nasty, horrible swimming teacher, Soggy Sid, usually made him get in thepoolanyway.
ThenHenrywouldduckDizzyDave,or splashWeepyWilliam,orpinchGorgeous Gurinder, until Sid ordered him out. It was not surprising thatHorridHenryhadnevermanagedtogethisfive-meterbadge.
Arrrgh!Nowhe remembered.Todaywas testday.The terribledaywheneveryonehad to showhow far they could swim.AerobicAlwas going forgold.MoodyMargaret was going for silver. The only ones who were stilltrying for their five-meter badgeswereLazyLinda andHorridHenry.Fivewholemeters!Howcouldanyoneswimsuchavastdistance?
Ifonly theywere testedonwhocould sink to thebottomof thepool thefastest,orsplashthemost,orspitwaterthefarthest,thenHorridHenrywouldhaveeverybadgeinajiffy.Butno.Hehadtoleapintoafreezingcoldpool,and, if he survived that shock, somehow thrash his way across five wholemeterswithoutdrowning.
Well,therewasnowayhewasgoingtoschooltoday.
Momcameintohisroom.
“Ican’tgotoschooltoday,Mom,”Henrymoaned.“Ifeelterrible.”
Momdidn’tevenlookathim.
“Thursday-itisagain,Ipresume,”saidMom.
“Noway!”saidHenry.“Ididn’tevenknowitwasThursday.”
“Getup,Henry,”saidMom.“You’regoingswimmingandthat’sthat.”
PerfectPeterpeekedaroundthedoor.
“It’sbadgedaytoday!”hesaid.“I’mgoingforfiftymeters!”
“That’s great, Peter,” saidMom. “I bet you’re the best swimmer in yourclass.”
PerfectPetersmiledmodestly.
“I just try my best,” he said. “Good luck with your five-meter badge,Henry,”headded.
Horrid Henry growled and attacked. He was a Venus flytrap slowlymashingafranticflybetweenhisdeadlyleaves.
“Eeeeeowwww!”screechedPeter.
“Stop being horrid, Henry!” screamed Mom. “Leave your poor brotheralone!”
HorridHenryletPetergo.Ifonlyhecouldfindsomewaynottotakehisswimmingtesthe’dbethehappiestboyintheworld.
***
Henry’s class arrivedat thepool.Okay, thoughtHenry.Time tounpackhisexcusestoSoggySid.
“Ican’tgoswimming,I’vegotawart,”liedHenry.
“Takeoffyoursock,”orderedSoggySid.
Rats,thoughtHenry.
“Maybeit’sbetternow,”saidHenry.
“Ithoughtso,”saidSid.
HorridHenrygrabbedhisstomach.
“Tummypains!”hemoaned.“Ifeelterrible.”
“You seemed fine when you were prancing around the pool a momentago,”snappedSid.“Nowgetchanged.”
Timeforthekillerexcuse.
“Iforgotmyswimsuit!”saidHenry.Thiswashisbestchanceofsuccess.
“No problem,” said Soggy Sid.He handedHenry a bag. “Put on one ofthese.”
Slowly,HorridHenryrummagedin thebag.Hepulledoutabikini top,abluesuitwithahole in themiddle,apairofpinkunderpants,a tinypairofgreen trunks, a polka-dot one piecewith bunnies, see-throughwhite shorts,andadiaper.
“Ican’twearanyofthese!”protestedHorridHenry.
“Youcanandyouwill,ifIhavetoputthemonyoumyself,”snarledSid.
Horrid Henry squeezed into the green trunks. He could barely breathe.Slowly,hejoinedtherestofhisclasspushingandshovingbythesideofthepool.
Everyone hadmillions of badges sewn all over their suits. You couldn’tevenseeAerobicAl’sbathingsuitbeneaththestackofbadges.
“Heyyou!” shoutedSoggySid.He pointed atWeepyWilliam. “Where’syourswimsuit?”
WeepyWilliamglanceddownandburstintotears.
“Waaaaah,”hewailedandranweepingbacktothechangingroom.
“Nowgetin!”orderedSoggySid.
“ButI’lldrown!”screamedHenry.“Ican’tswim!”
“Getin!”screamedSoggySid.
Good-bye,cruelworld.HorridHenryheldhisbreathandfell into the icywater.ARRRRGH!Hewasturningintoaniceberg!
Hewasdying!Hewasdead!Hisfeetflailedmadlyashesankdown,down,down—clunk!Henry’sfeettouchedthebottom.
Henrystoodup,chokingandspluttering.Hewaswaist-deepinwater.
“LindaandHenry!Swimfivemeters—now!”
What am I going to do? thought Henry. It was so humiliating not evenbeingabletoswimfivemeters!Everyonewouldteasehim.Andhe’dhavetolisten to them bragging about their badges! Wouldn’t it be great to get abadge?Somehow?
LazyLindasetoff,veryveryslowly.HorridHenrygrabbedontoher leg.Maybeshe’llpullmeacross,hethought.
“Ugggh!”gurgledLazyLinda.
“Leaveheralone!”shoutedSid.“Lastchance,Henry.”
HorridHenryranalongthepool’sbottomandflappedhisarms,pretendingtoswim.
“Didit!”saidHenry.
SoggySidscowled.
“Isaidswim,notwalk!”screamedSid.“You’vefailed.Nowgetovertothefarlaneandpractice.Remember,anyonewhostopsswimmingduringthetestdoesn’tgetabadge.”
Horrid Henry stomped over to the far lane. No way was he going topractice!Howhehatedswimming!Hewatched theotherssplashingupanddown, up and down. There was Aerobic Al, doing his laps like a bolt of
lightning. And Moody Margaret. And Kung-Fu Kate. Everyone would begettingabadgebutHenry.Itwassounfair.
“Pssst,Susan,”saidHenry.“Haveyouheard?There’sasharkinthedeepend!”
“Ohyeah,right,”saidSourSusan.Shelookedatthedarkwaterinthefarendofthepool.
“Don’tbelieveme,”saidHenry.“Findoutthehardway.Comebackwithalegmissing.”
SourSusanpausedandwhisperedsomethingtoMoodyMargaret.
“Shutup,Henry,”saidMargaret.Theyswamoff.
“Don’tworryabouttheshark,
Andrew,”saidHenry.“Ithinkhe’salreadyeatentoday.”
“Whatshark?”saidAnxiousAndrew.
Andrewstaredatthedeepend.Itdidlookawfullydarkdownthere.
“Startswimming,Andrew!”shoutedSoggySid.
“Idon’twantto,”saidAndrew.
“Swim!OrI’llbiteyoumyself!”snarledSid.
Andrewstartedswimming.
“Dave,Ralph,Clare,andBert—startswimming!”bellowedSoggySid.
“Look out for the shark!” said Horrid Henry. He watched Aerobic Altearing up and down the lane. “Gotta swim, gotta swim, gotta swim,”mutteredAlbetweenstrokes.
Whatashow-off,thoughtHenry.Wouldn’titbefuntoplayatrickonhim?
HorridHenrypretendedhewasacrocodile.Hesneakedunderthewaterto
the middle of the pool and waited until Aerobic Al swam overhead. ThenHorridHenryreachedup.
Pinch!HenrygrabbedAl’sthrashingleg.
“AAAARGGG!” screamed Al. “Something’s grabbed my leg. Help!”AerobicAlleapedoutofthepool.
Teehee,thoughtHorridHenry.
“It’sashark!”screamedSourSusan.Shescrambledoutofthepool.
“There’sasharkinthepool!”screechedAnxiousAndrew.
“There’sasharkinthepool!”howledRudeRalph.
Everyonewasscreamingandshoutingandstrugglingtogetout.
TheonlyoneleftinthepoolwasHenry.
Shark!
HorridHenryforgottherewerenosharksinswimmingpools.
HorridHenryforgothe’dstartedthesharkrumor.
HorridHenryforgothecouldn’tswim.
Allheknewwasthathewasaloneinthepool—withashark!
Horrid Henry swam for his life. Shaking and quaking, splashing andcrashing,hetorpedoedhiswaytothesideofthepoolandscrambledout.
He gasped and panted. Thank goodness. Safe at last! He’d never ever goswimmingagain.
“Fivemeters!”bellowedSoggySid.“You’veallfailedyourbadgestoday,exceptfor—Henry!”
“Waaaaaaahhhhhh!”wailedtheotherchildren.
“Whoopee!”screamedHenry.“Olympics,hereIcome!”
4
HORRIDHENRYANDTHEMUMMY’SCURSE
Tiptoe.Tiptoe.Tiptoe.
HorridHenrycreptdownthehall.Thecoastwasclear.MomandDadwereinthegarden,andPeterwasplayingatTidyTed’s.
Teehee,thoughtHenry,thendartedintoPerfectPeter’sroomandshutthedoor.
There it was. Sitting unopened on Peter’s shelf. The grossest, yuckiest,moststomach-curdlingkitHenryhadeverseen.Abrand-new,deluxe“Curseof the Mummy” kit, complete with a plastic body to mummify, mummy-wrapping
gauze,cursebook,amulets,and,bestofall,removablemummyorganstoputinacanopicjar.Peterhadwonitatthe“MeetaRealMummy”exhibitionatthemuseum,buthe’dneverevenplayedwithitonce.
Ofcourse,Henrywasn’tallowedintoPeter’sbedroomwithoutpermission.HewasalsonotallowedtoplaywithPeter’stoys.Thiswassounfair,Henrycould hardly believe it. True, he wouldn’t let Peter touch his Boom-BoomBasher, his Goo-Shooter, or his Dungeon Drink kit. In fact, since HenryrefusedtoshareanyofhistoyswithPeter,MomhadforbiddenHenrytoplaywithanyofPeter’stoys—orelse.
Henry didn’t care—Perfect Peter had boring baby toys—that is, until hebroughthomethemummykit.Henryhadachedtoplaywithit.Andnowwashischance.
HorridHenrytoreoffthewrappingandopenedthebox.
WOW!Sogross!Henryfeltadeliciousshiver.Helovedmummies.Whatcouldbemorethrillingthanlookingatanancient,wrapped-upDEADbody?Evenapretendonewaswonderful.Andnowhehadhoursof funaheadofhim.
Pitter-patter!Pitter-patter!Pitter-patter!
Oh help, someone was coming up the stairs! Horrid Henry shoved themummy kit behind him as Peter’s bedroom door swung open and PerfectPeterstrolledin.
“Outofmyway,worm!”shoutedHenry.
PerfectPeterslunkoff.Thenhestopped.
“Waitaminute,”hesaid.“You’reinmyroom!Youcan’tordermeoutofmyownroom!”
“Ohyeah?”blusteredHenry.
“Yeah!”saidPeter.
“You’resupposedtobeatTed’s,”saidHenry,tryingtodistracthim.
“Hegotsick,”saidPeter.Hesteppedcloser.“Andyou’replayingwithmykit! You’re not allowed to playwith any ofmy things!Mom said so! I’mgoingtotellherrightnow!”
Uh oh. If Peter told on him, Henry would be in big trouble. Very bigtrouble.Henryhadtosavehimself,fast.Hehadtwochoices.HecouldleaponPeterandthrottlehim.Orhecoulduseweaselwords.
“Iwasn’t playingwith it,” saidHenry smoothly. “Iwas trying to protectyou.”“Noyouweren’t,”saidPeter.“I’mtelling.”
“Iwas too,” saidHenry.“Iwas trying toprotectyou from theMummy’sCurse.”
PerfectPeterheadedforthedoor.Thenhestopped.
“Whatcurse?”saidPeter.
“Thecursethatturnspeopleintomummies!”saidHenrydesperately.
“There’snosuchthing,”saidPeter.
“Wanna bet?” said Henry. “Everyone knows about the mummy’s curse!They take on the shape of someone familiar but really, they’re mummies!Theycouldbeyourcat—”
“Fluffy?”saidPeter.“Fluffy,amummy?”
HenrylookedatfatFluffysnoringpeacefullyonacushion.
“EvenFluffy,”saidHenry.“OrDad.OrMe.Oryou.”
“I’mnotamummy,”saidPeter.
“Oreven—”Henrypausedmelodramaticallyandthenwhispered,“Mom.”
“Mom,amummy?”gaspedPeter.
“Yup,” said Henry. “But don’t worry. You help me draw some Eyes ofHorus.They’llprotectusagainst…her.”
“She’snotamummy,”saidPeter.
“That’swhatshewantsustothink,”whisperedHenry.“It’sallhereinthemummycursebook.”HewavedthebookinfrontofPeter.“Don’tyouthinkthemummyonthecoverresemblesyou-know-who?”
“No,”saidPeter.
“Watch,”saidHorridHenry.Hegrabbedapencil.
“Don’tdrawonabook!”squeakedPeter.
Henryignoredhimanddrewglassesonthemummy.
“Howaboutnow?”heasked.
Peter stared. Was it his imagination or did the mummy look a littlefamiliar?
“Idon’tbelieveyou,”saidPeter.“I’mgoingstraightdowntoaskMom.”
“Butthat’stheworstthingyoucoulddo!”shoutedHenry.
“Idon’tcare,”saidPeter.Downhewent.
Henry was sunk. Mom would probably cancel his birthday party whenPeterblabbed.Andhe’dnever evenhada chance toplaywith themummykit!Itwassounfair.
Momwasreadingonthesofa.
“Mom,”saidPeter,“Henrysaysyou’reamummy.”
Momlookedpuzzled.
“OfcourseI’mamummy,”shesaid.
“What?”saidPeter.
“I’myourmummy,”saidMom,withasmile.
Petertookastepback.
“Idon’twantyoutobeamummy,”saidPeter.
“ButIamone,”saidMom.“Nowcomeandgivemeahug.”
“No!”saidPeter.
“Letmewrapmyarmsaroundyou,”saidMom.
“NOWRAPPING!”squealedPeter.“Iwantmymommy!”
“ButI’myourmummy,”saidMom.
“Iknow!”squeakedPeter.“Keepaway,you…Mummy!”
PerfectPeterstaggeredupthestairstoHenry.
“It’strue,”hegasped.“Shesaidshewasamummy.”
“Shedid?”saidHenry.
“Yes,”saidPeter.“Whatarewegoingtodo?”
“Don’tworry,Peter,”saidHenry.“Wecanfreeherfromthecurse.”
“How?”breathedPeter.
HorridHenrypretendedtoconsultthecursebook.
“First we must sacrifice to the Egyptian gods Osiris and Hroth,” saidHenry.
“Sacrifice?”saidPeter.
“Theylikecatguts,andstufflikethat,”saidHenry.
“No!”squealedPeter.“Not…Fluffy!”
“However,”saidHenry,leafingthroughthecursebook,“marblesarealsoacceptableasanoffering.”
PerfectPeterrantohistoyboxandscoopedupahandfulofmarbles.
“Nowgetmesometoiletpaper,”addedHenry.
“Toiletpaper?”saidPeter.
“DonotquestionthepriestofAnubis!”shriekedHenry.
PerfectPetergotthetoiletpaper.
“WemustwrapFluffyinthesacredbandages,”saidHenry.“Hewillbeourmessengerbetweenthisworldandthenext.”
“Meoww,”saidFluffy,ashewaswrappedfromheadtotailintoiletpaper.
“Nowyou,”saidHenry.
“Me?”squeakedPeter.
“Yes,”saidHenry.“Doyouwantto
freeMomfromthemummy’scurse?”Peternodded.
“Thenyoumuststandstillandbe
quietforthirtyminutes,”saidHenry.Thatshouldgivehimplentyoftimetoplaywiththemummykit.
HestartedwrappingPeter.RoundandroundandroundandroundwentthetoiletpaperuntilPeterwastightlywrappedfromheadtotoe.
Henry stepped back to admire his work. Goodness, he was a brilliantmummy-maker!Maybethat’swhatheshouldbewhenhegrewup.Henry,theMummy-Maker. Henry, World’s Finest Mummy-Maker. Henry, Mummy-MakertotheStars.Yes,itcertainlyhadaringtoit.
“You’re a fine-looking mummy, Peter,” said Henry. “I’m sure you’ll bemadeverywelcomeinthenextworld.”
“Huuunh?”saidPeter.
“Silence!”orderedHenry.“Don’tmove.NowImustutterthesacredspell.By the powers of Horus, Morus, Borus, and Stegosaurus,” intoned Henry,
makingupalltheEgyptiansoundingnameshecould.
“Stegosaurus?”mumbledPeter.
“Whatever!” snapped Henry. “I call on the scarab! I call on Isis! FreeFluffy from themummy’s curse. FreePeter from themummy’s curse. FreeMomfromthemummy’scurse.Free—”
“Whatonearthisgoingoninhere?”shriekedMom,burstingthroughthedoor. “You horrid boy!What have you done to Peter?Andwhat have youdonetopoorFluffy?”
“Meoww,”yowledFluffy.
“Mommy!”squealedPerfectPeter.
Eowww,gross! thoughtHorridHenry,openingup theplasticmummybodyandplacingtheorgansinthecanopicjar.
The bad newswas thatHenry had been banned fromwatchingTV for aweek.ThegoodnewswasthatPerfectPeterhadsaidheneverwantedtoseethathorriblemummykitagain.
Andnowforasneakpeekatoneofthelaugh-out-loudstoriesin
HorridHenryTricksandTreats
HORRIDHENRY’SRAID
“You’resuchapig,Susan!”
“NoI’mnot!You’rethepig!”“Youare!”squealedMoodyMargaret.“Youare!”squealedSourSusan.“Oink!”
“Oink!”
AllwasnotwellatMoodyMargaret’sSecretClub.
Sour Susan and Moody Margaret glared at each other inside the SecretClubtent.MoodyMargaretwavedtheemptycookietininSusan’ssourface.
“Someoneateallthecookies,”saidMoodyMargaret.“Anditwasn’tme.”
“Well,itwasn’tme,”saidSusan.“Liar!”
“Liar!”
Margaret stuck out her tongue at Susan. Susan stuck out her tongue atMargaret.MargaretyankedSusan’shair.
“Oww!Youhorriblemeanie!”
shriekedSusan.“Ihateyou.”
SheyankedMargaret’shair.
“OWWW!”screechedMoodyMargaret.“Howdareyou?”
Theyscowledateachother.
“Waitaminute,”saidMargaret.“Youdon’tthink—”
***
Notamillionmilesaway, sittingona throne inside thePurpleHand fort
hidden behind prickly branches, Horrid Henrywiped a few biscuit crumbsfrom his mouth and burped. Mmmm boy, nothing beat the taste of anarchenemy’scookies.
Thebranchesparted.
“Password!”hissedHorridHenry.“Smellytoads.”
“Enter,”saidHenry.
Theguardenteredandgavethesecrethandshake.
“Henry,why—”beganPerfectPeter.“Callmebymytitle,Worm!”
“Sorry,Henry—ImeanLordHighExcellentMajestyofthePurpleHand.”
“That’sbetter,”saidHenry.Hewavedhishandandpointedattheground.“Beseated,Worm.”
“WhyamIWormandyou’reLordHighExcellentMajesty?”
“BecauseI’mtheleader,”saidHenry.
“Iwantabettertitle,”saidPeter.
“All right,” said the Lord High Excellent Majesty, “you can be LordWorm.”
Peterconsidered.
“WhataboutLordHighWorm?”
“OK,”saidHenry.Thenhefroze.
“Worm!Footsteps!”
PerfectPeterpeekedthroughtheleaves.
“Enemiesapproaching!”hewarned.
Poundingfeetpausedoutsidetheentrance.
“Password!”saidHorridHenry.
“Dogpoobreath,”saidMargaret,burstingin.SourSusanfollowed.
“That’snotthepassword,”saidHenry.
“Youcan’tcomein,”squeakedtheguard,alittlelate.
“You’vebeenstealingtheSecretClubcookies,”saidMoodyMargaret.
“Yeah,Henry,”saidSusan.
HorridHenrystretchedandyawned.
“Proveit.”
MoodyMargaretpointedtoallthecrumbslyingonthedirtfloor.
“Wheredidallthesecrumbscomefrom,then?”
“Cookies,”saidHenry.
“Soyouadmitit!”shriekedMargaret.
“PurpleHand cookies,” saidHenry.He pointed to thePurpleHand skullandcrossbonescookietin.
“Liar,liar,pantsonfire,”saidMargaret.
HorridHenryfelltothefloorandstartedrollingaround.
“Ooh, ooh, my pants are on fire, I’m burning, call the fire fighters!”shoutedHenry.
PerfectPeterdashedoff.
“Mom!”hehollered.“Henry’spantsareonfire!”
MargaretandSusanmadeahastyretreat.HorridHenrystoppedrollingandhowledwithlaughter.
“Hahahahaha—thePurpleHandrules!”hecackled.
“We’llgetyouforthis,Henry,”saidMargaret.
“Yeah,yeah,”saidHenry.
“You didn’t really steal their cookies, did you, Henry?” asked Lord HighWormthefollowingday.
“Asif,”saidHorridHenry.“Nowgetbacktoyourguardduty.Ourenemiesmaybeplanningarevengeattack.”
“WhydoIalwayshavetobetheguard?”saidPeter.“It’snotfair.”
“Whoseclubisthis?”saidHenryfiercely.
Peter’slipbegantotremble.
“Yours,”mutteredPeter.
“Soifyouwanttostayasatemporarymember,youhavetodowhatIsay,”saidHenry.
“OK,”saidPeter.
“And remember, one day, if you’re very good, you’ll be promoted fromjuniorguardtochiefguard,”saidHenry.
“Ooh,”saidPeter,brightening.
Businesssettled,HorridHenryreachedforthecookietin.He’dsavedfiveyummychocolatefudgechewiesfortoday.
Henrypickedupthetinandstopped.Whywasn’titrattling?Heshookit.
Silence.
HorridHenryrippedoffthelidandshrieked.
The Purple Hand cookie tin was empty. Except for one thing. A daggerdrawn on a piece of paper. The dastardlymark ofMargaret’s Secret Club!Well,he’dshowthemwhoruled.
“Worm!”heshrieked.“Getinhere!”
Peterentered.
“We’vebeenraided!”screamedHenry.“You’refired!”
“Waaaah!”wailedPeter.
***
“Goodwork,Susan,”saidtheleaderoftheSecretClub,herfacecoveredinchocolate.
“Idon’tseewhyyougotthreecookiesandIonlygottwowhenIwastheonewhosneakedinandstolethem,”saidSusansourly.
“Tributetoyourleader,”saidMoodyMargaret.
“Istilldon’tthinkit’sfair,”mutteredSusan.
“Tough,”saidMargaret.“Nowlet’shearyourspyreport.”
“NAHNAHNENAHNAH!”screechedavoicefromoutside.
SusanandMargaretdashedoutoftheSecretClubtent.Theyweretoolate.TherewasHenry,prancingoff,wavingtheSecretClubbannerhe’dstolen.
“Givethatback,Henry!”screamedMargaret.
“Makeme!”saidHenry.
Susanchasedhim.Henrydarted.
Margaretchasedhim.Henrydodged.
“Comeandgetme!”tauntedHenry.
“Allright,”saidMargaret.Shewalkedtowardhim,thensuddenlyjumpedoverthewallintoHenry’sgardenandrantothePurpleHandfort.
“Hey,getawayfromthere!”shoutedHenry,chasingafterher.Wherewasthatuselessguardwhenyouneededhim?
MargaretnabbedHenry’sskullandcrossbonesflaganddartedoff.
The two leaders faced each other. “Gimme my flag!” ordered Henry.“Gimmemyflag!”orderedMargaret.“Youfirst,”saidHenry.
“Youfirst,”saidMargaret.
Neithermoved.
“OK,atthecountofthreewe’llthrowthemtoeachother,”saidMargaret.One,two,three—throw!”
MargaretheldontoHenry’sflag.
HenryheldontoMargaret’sflag.
Severalmomentspassed.
“Cheater,”saidMargaret.
“Cheater,”saidHenry.
“Idon’tknowaboutyou,butIhaveimportantspyingworktogetonwith,”saidMargaret.
“So?”saidHenry.“Getonwithit.Noone’sstoppingyou.”
“Dropmyflag,Henry,”saidMargaret.
“No,”saidHenry.
“Fine,”saidMargaret.“Susan!Bringmethescissors.”
Susanranoff.
“Peter!”shoutedHenry.“Worm!LordWorm!LordHighWorm!”
Peterstuckhisheadoutoftheupstairswindow.
“Peter!Getthescissors!Quick!”orderedHenry.
“No,”saidPeter.“Youfiredme,remember?”Andheslammedthewindowshut.
“You’redead,Peter,”shoutedHenry.
Sour Susan came back with the scissors and gave them to Margaret.MargaretheldthescissorstoHenry’sflag.Henrydidn’tbudge.Shewouldn’tdare—
Snip!
Aaargh!MoodyMargaret cut off a corner of Henry’s flag. She held thescissorspoisedtomakeanothercut.
HorridHenryhadspenthourspaintinghisbeautifulflag.Heknewwhenhewasbeat.
“Stop!”shriekedHenry.
He dropped Margaret’s flag. Margaret dropped his flag. Slowly, theyinchedtowardeachother,thendashedtograbtheirownflag.
“Truce?” said Moody Margaret, beaming. “Truce,” said Horrid Henry,scowling.
I’ll get her for this, thought Horrid Henry. No one touchesmy flag andlives.
What trickswillHenryuse toattackMargaret’s fort?WillMoodyMargaretfinallydefeatHenry?Findoutwhoseflagisstillwavingattheendofthewar
inHorridHenryTricksandTreats.
TheHorridHenrybooksbyFrancescaSimon
IllustratedbyTonyRoss
Eachbookcontainsfourstories
HORRIDHENRY
Henryisdraggedtodancingclassagainsthiswill;vieswithMoodyMargarettomake theyuckiestGlop;goes camping; and tries tobegood likePerfectPeter—butnotforlong.
HORRIDHENRYTRICKSTHETOOTHFAIRY
HorridHenrytriestotricktheToothFairyintogivinghimmoremoney;sendsMoodyMargaretpacking;causeshisteacherstorunscreamingfromschool;andsingle-handedlywrecksawedding.
HORRIDHENRYandTHEMEGA-MEANTIMEMACHINE
Horrid Henry reluctantly goes for a hike; builds a time machine and
convinces Perfect Peter that boys wear dresses in the future; Perfect Peterplaysoneoftheworsttrickseveronhisbrother;andHenry’saunttakesthefamilytoafancyrestaurant,sohisparentsbribehimtobehave.
HORRIDHENRY’SSTINKBOMB
HorridHenry uses a stinkbomb as a toxicweapon in his long-runningwarwith Moody Margaret; uses all his tricks to win the school readingcompetition; goes for a sleepover and retreats in horrorwhen he finds thatother people’s houses aren’t always as nice as his own; and has the joy ofseeingMissBattle-Axeinhotwaterwiththeprinciplewhenheknowsitwasallhisfault.
HORRIDHENRYANDTHESOCCERFIEND
HorridHenryreadsPerfectPeter’sdiaryandimprovesit;goesshoppingwithMom and tries to make her buy him some really nice new sneakers; ishorrifiedwhenhisoldenemyBossyBillturnsupatschool;andtriesbyanymeans,towintheclasssoccermatch.
HORRIDHENRYTRICKSANDTREATS
HorridHenry encounters theworst babysitter in theworld; traumatizes hisparentsonalongcartrip;isbannedfromtrick-or-treatingatHalloween;andemergesvictoriousfromaraidonMoodyMargaret’sSecretClub.
HORRIDHENRY’SCHRISTMAS
Horrid Henry sabotages the Christmas play; tries to do all his Christmasshoppingwithout spending anyof his allowance; attempts to ambushSantaClaus(togetmorepresentsofcourse);andhastoenduretheworstChristmasdinnerever!
AbouttheAuthor
Francesca Simon spent her childhood on the beach in California and thenwenttoYaleandOxfordUniversitiestostudymedievalhistoryandliterature.She now lives in London with her family. She has written over fortyfivebooksandwontheChildren’sBookoftheYearin2008attheGalaxyBritishBookAwardsforHorridHenryandtheAbominableSnowman.