Horrid Henry and the Mummy's Curse (4 page)

4:30. Mom burst into the room. Henry was lying on his bed reading a comic.

“Henry! Why aren’t you doing your homework?” said Mom.

“I’ll do it in a sec,” said Henry. “I’m just finishing this page.”

“Henry …” said Mom.

Henry put down the comic.

Mom left. Henry picked up the comic.

5:30. Dad burst into the room. Henry was playing with his knights.

“Henry! Why aren’t you doing your homework?” said Dad.

“I’m tired!” yawned Henry. “I’m just taking a little break. It’s hard having so much work!”

“Henry, you’ve only got five words to learn!” said Dad. “And you’ve just spent two hours
not
learning them.”

“All right,” snarled Henry. Slowly, he picked up his spelling list. Then he put it down again. He had to get in the mood. Soothing music, that’s what he needed. Horrid Henry switched on his radio. The terrible sound of the Driller Cannibals boomed through the house.

“OH, I’M A CAN-CAN-CANNIBAL!” screamed Henry, stomping around his room. “DON’T CALL ME AN ANIMAL JUST ’CAUSE I’M A CAN-CAN-CANNIBAL!”

Mom and Dad stormed into Henry’s bedroom and turned off the music.

“That’s enough, Henry!” said Dad.

“DO YOUR HOMEWORK!” screamed Mom.

“IF YOU DON’T GET EVERY SINGLE WORD RIGHT IN YOUR TEST TOMORROW THERE

WILL BE NO TELEVISION FOR A WEEK!” shouted Dad.

EEEK! No TV
and
no candy! This was too much. Horrid Henry looked at his spelling words with loathing.

GOAT

BOAT

SAID

STOAT

FRIEND

“I hate goats! I’ll never need to spell the word ‘goat’ in my life,” said Henry. He hated goat’s cheese. He hated goat’s milk. He thought goats were smelly. That was one word he’d definitely never need to know.

The next word was “boat.” Who needs to spell that? thought Henry. I’m not going to be a sailor when I grow up. I get seasick. In fact, it’s bad for my health to learn how to spell “boat.”

As for “said,” what did it matter if he spelled it “sed”? It was perfectly understandable, written “sed.” Only an old fusspot like Miss Battle-Axe would mind such a tiny mistake.

Then there was “stoat.” What on earth was a stoat? What a mean, sneaky word. Henry wouldn’t know a stoat if it sat on him. Of all the useless, horrible words, “stoat” was the worst. Trust his teacher, Miss Battle-Axe, to make him learn a horrible, useless word like stoat.

The last word was “friend.” Well, a real friend like Rude Ralph didn’t care how the word “friend” was spelled. As far as Henry was concerned any friend who minded how he spelled “friend” was no friend. Miss Battle-Axe included that word to torture him.

Five whole spelling words. It was too much. I’ll never learn so many words, thought Henry. But what about tomorrow? He’d have to watch Moody Margaret and Jolly Josh and Clever Clare chomping away at those delicious Big Boppers, while he, Henry, had to gnash his empty teeth. Plus no TV for a week! Henry couldn’t live that long without TV! He was sunk. He was doomed to be candy-less, and TV-less.

But wait. What if there was a way to get that candy without the horrid hassle of learning to spell? Suddenly, Henry had a brilliant, spectacular idea. It was so simple Henry couldn’t believe he’d never thought of it before.

He sat next to Clever Clare. Clare always knew the spelling words. All Henry had to do was to take a little peek at her work. If he positioned his chair right, he’d easily be able to see what she wrote. And he wouldn’t be copying her, no way. Just double-checking. I am a genius, thought Horrid Henry. 100% right on the test. Loads of Big Bopper candy. Mom and Dad would be so thrilled they’d let him watch extra TV. Hurray!

Horrid Henry swaggered into class the next morning. He sat down in his seat between Clever Clare and Beefy Bert. Carefully, he inched his chair over a fraction so that he had a good view of Clare’s paper.

“Spelling test!” barked Miss Battle-Axe. “First word—goat.”

Clare bent over her paper. Henry pretended he was staring at the wall, then, quick as a flash, he glanced at her work and wrote “goat.”

“Boat,” said Miss Battle-Axe. Again Horrid Henry sneaked a look at Clare’s paper and copied her. And again. And again.

This is fantastic, thought Henry. I’ll never have to learn any spelling words. Just think of all the comic books he could read instead of wasting his time on homework! He sneaked a peek at Beefy Bert’s paper. Blank. Ha ha, thought Henry.

There was only one word left. Henry could taste the tingly tang of a Big Bopper already. Wouldn’t he swagger around! And no way would he share his candy with anyone.

Suddenly, Clare shifted position and edged away from him. Rats! Henry couldn’t see her paper anymore.

“Last word,” boomed Miss Battle-Axe. “Friend.”

Henry twisted in his seat. He could see the first four words. He just needed to get a tiny bit closer…

Clare looked at him. Henry stared at the ceiling. Clare glared, then looked back at her paper. Quickly, Henry leaned over and…YES! He copied down the final word, “friend.”

Victory!

Chomp! Chomp! Chomp! Mmmmm, boy, did those Big Boppers taste great!

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Miss Battle-Axe. She was smiling at him with her great big yellow teeth.

Miss Battle-Axe had never smiled at Henry before.

“Well, Henry,” said Miss Battle-Axe. “What an improvement! I’m thrilled.”

“Thank you,” said Henry modestly.

“In fact, you’ve done so well I’m promoting you to the top spelling group. Twenty-five extra words a night. Here’s the list.”

Horrid Henry’s jaws stopped chomping. He looked in horror at the new spelling list. It was littered with words. But not just any words. Awful words. Mean words. Long words. HARD words.

Hieroglyphs.

Trapezium.

Diarrhea.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!” shrieked Horrid Henry.

Oh no! thought Horrid Henry. He pulled the blanket tightly over his head. It was Thursday. Horrible, horrible, Thursday. The worst day of the week. Horrid Henry was certain Thursdays came more often than any other day.