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  HORRID HENRY AND THE MUMMY’S CURSE

  Meet HORRID HENRY the laugh-out-loud worldwide sensation!

  Over 15 million copies sold in 27 countries and counting

  # 1 chapter book series in the UK

  Francesca Simon is the only American author to ever win the Galaxy British Book Awards Children’s Book of the Year (past winners include J.K. Rowling, Philip Pullman, and Eoin Colfer).

  Horrid Henry is a fabulous antihero…a modern comic classic.” —Guardian

  “Wonderfully appealing to girls and boys alike, a precious rarity at this age.” —Judith Woods, Times

  * * *

  “The best children’s comic writer.”

  —Amanda Craig, Times

  * * *

  “I love the Horrid Henry books by Francesca Simon. They have lots of funny bits in. And Henry always gets into trouble!” —Mia, age 6, BBC Learning Is Fun

  “My two boys love this book, and I have actually had tears running down my face and had to stop reading because of laughing so hard.” —T. Franklin, Parent

  “It’s easy to see why Horrid Henry is the bestselling character for five- to eight-year-olds.” —Liverpool Echo

  “Francesca Simon’s truly horrific little boy is a monstrously enjoyable creation. Parents love them because Henry makes their own little darlings seem like angels.” —Guardian Children’s Books Supplement

  “I have tried out the Horrid Henry books with groups of children as a parent, as a babysitter, and as a teacher. Children love to either hear them read aloud or to read them themselves.” —Danielle Hall, Teacher parents when they read Horrid Henry. There’s a tiny bit of him in all of us.” —Nancy Astee, Child Education

  “As a teacher…it’s great to get a series of books my class loves. They go mad for Horrid Henry.” —A teacher

  “Henry is a beguiling hero who has entranced millions of reluctant readers.” —Herald

  * * *

  “An absutely fantastic series and surely a winner with all children Long Live Francesca Simon and her brilliant books More more please!”

  —A parent

  * * *

  “Laugh-out-loud reading for both adults and children alike.” —A parent

  “Horrid Henry certainly lives up to his name, and his antics are everything you hope your own child will avoid—which is precisely why younger children so enjoy these tales.” —Independent on Sunday

  “Henry might be unbelievably naughty, totally wicked, and utterly horrid, but he is frequently credited with converting the most reluctant readers into enthusiastic ones…superb in its simplicity.” —Liverpool Echo

  * * *

  “Will make you laugh out loud.”

  —Sunday Times

  * * *

  “Parents reading them aloud may be consoled to discover that Henry can always be relied upon to behave worse than any of their own offspring.” —Independent

  “What is brilliant about the books is that Henry never does anything that is subversive. She creates an aura of supreme naughtiness (of which children are in awe) but points out that he operates within a safe and secure world…eminently readable books.” —Emily Turner, Angels and Urchins

  * * *

  “Inventive and funny, with appeal for boys and girls alike, and super illustrations by Tony Ross.”

  —Jewish Chronicle

  * * *

  “Accompanied by fantastic black-and-white drawings, the book is a joy to read. Horrid Henry has an irresistible appeal to everyone—child and adult alike! He is the child everyone is familiar with—irritating, annoying, but you still cannot help laughing when he gets into yet another scrape. Not quite a devil in disguise but you cannot help wondering at times! No wonder he is so popular!” —Angela Youngman

  Horrid Henry by Francesca Simon

  Horrid Henry Horrid Henry Tricks the Tooth Fairy

  Horrid Henry and the Mega-Mean Time Machine

  Horrid Henry’s Stinkbomb

  Horrid Henry and the Mummy’s Curse

  Horrid Henry and the Soccer Fiend

  Horrid Henry Tricks and Treats

  Horrid Henry’s Christmas

  HORRID HENRY AND THE MUMMY’S CURSE

  Francesca Simon

  Illustrated by Tony Ross

  Text © Francesca Simon 2000

  Internal illustrations © Tony Ross 2000

  Cover illustrations © Tony Ross 2008

  Cover and internal design © 2009 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567–4410

  (630) 961–3900

  Fax: (630) 961–2168

  www.jabberwockykids.com

  Originally published in Great Britain in 2000 by Orion Children’s Books.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Simon, Francesca.

  Horrid Henry and the mummy’s curse / Francesca Simon ; illustrated by Tony Ross.

  p. cm.

  Originally published: Great Britain : Orion Children’s Books, 2000.

  [1. Behavior—Fiction.] I. Ross, Tony, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.S604Hoaq 2009

  [Fic]—dc22

  2008039688

  Printed and bound in the United States of America.

  VP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For my friends and advisers,

  Joe and Freddy Gaminara

  CONTENTS

  1 Horrid Henry’s Hobby

  2 Horrid Henry’s Homework

  3 Horrid Henry’s Swimming Lesson

  4 Horrid Henry and the Mummy’s Curse

  1

  HORRID HENRY’S HOBBY

  “Out of my way, worm!” shrieked Horrid Henry, pushing past his younger brother Perfect Peter and dashing into the kitchen.

  “NO!” screamed Perfect Peter. He scrambled after Henry and clutched his leg.

  “Get off me!” shouted Henry. He grabbed the unopened Sweet Tweet cereal box. “Nah nah ne nah nah, I got it first.”

  Perfect Peter lunged for the Sweet Tweet box and snatched it from Henry. “But it’s my turn!”

  “No, mine!” shrieked Henry.

  He ripped open the top and stuck his hand inside.

  “It’s mine!” shrieked Peter. He ripped open the bottom.

  A small wrapped toy fell to the floor.

  Henry and Peter both lunged for it.

  “Gimme that!” yelled Henry.

  “But it’s my turn to have it!” yelled Peter.

  “Stop being horrid, Henry!” shouted Mom. “Now give me that thing!”

  Henry and Peter both held on tight.

  “NO!” screamed Henry and Peter. “IT’S MY TURN TO HAVE THE TOY!”

  Horrid Henry and Perfect Peter both collected Gizmos from inside Sweet Tweet cereal boxes. So did everyone at their school. There were ten different colored Gizmos to collect, from the common green to the rare gold. Both Henry and Peter had Gizmos of every color. Except for one. Gold.

  “Right,” said Mom, “whose turn is it to get the toy?”

 
“MINE!” screamed Henry and Peter.

  “He got the last one!” screeched Henry. “Remember—he opened the new box and got the blue Gizmo.”

  It was true that Perfect Peter had got the blue Gizmo—two boxes ago. But why should Peter get any? If he hadn’t started collecting Gizmos to copy me, thought Henry resentfully, I’d get every single one.

  “NO!” howled Peter. He burst into tears. “Henry opened the last box.”

  “Crybaby,” jeered Henry.

  “Stop it,” said Peter.

  “Stop it,” mimicked Henry.

  “Mom, Henry’s teasing me,” wailed Peter.

  “I remember now,” said Mom. “It’s Peter’s turn.”

  “Thank you, Mom,” said Perfect Peter.

  “It’s not fair!” screamed Horrid Henry as Peter tore open the wrapping. There was a gold gleam.

  “Oh my goodness,” gasped Peter. “A gold Gizmo!”

  Horrid Henry felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He stared at the glorious, glowing, golden Gizmo.

  “It’s not fair!” howled Henry. “I want a gold Gizmo!”

  “I’m sorry, Henry,” said Mom. “It’ll be your turn next.”

  “But I want the gold one!” screamed Henry.

  He leaped on Peter and yanked the Gizmo out of his hand. He was Hurricane Henry uprooting everything in his path.

  “Hellllllllp!” howled Peter.

  “Stop being horrid, Henry, or no more Gizmos for you!” shouted Mom. “Now clean up this mess and get dressed.”

  “NO!” howled Henry. He ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

  He had to have a gold Gizmo. He simply had to. No one at school had a gold one. Henry could see himself now, the center of attention, everyone pushing and shoving just to get a look at his gold Gizmo. Henry could charge 50¢ a peek. Everyone would want to see it and to hold it. Henry would be invited to every birthday party. Instead, Peter would be the star attraction. Henry gnashed his teeth just thinking about it.

  But how could he get one? You couldn’t buy Gizmos. You could only get them inside Sweet Tweet cereal boxes. Mom was so mean she made Henry and Peter finish the old box before she’d buy a new one. Henry had eaten mountains of Sweet Tweet cereal to collect all his Gizmos. All that hard work would be in vain, unless he got a gold one.

  He could, of course, steal Peter’s. But Peter would be sure to notice, and Henry would be the chief suspect.

  He could swap. Yes! He would offer Peter two greens! That was generous. In fact, that was really generous. But Peter hated doing swaps. For some reason he always thought Henry was trying to cheat him.

  And then suddenly Henry had a brilliant, spectacular idea. True, it did involve a little tiny teensy weensy bit of trickery, but Henry’s cause was just. He’d been collecting Gizmos far longer than Peter had. He deserved a gold one, and Peter didn’t.

  “So, you got a gold Gizmo,” said Henry, popping into Peter’s room. “I’m really sorry.”

  Perfect Peter looked up from polishing his Gizmos. “Why?” he said suspiciously. “Everyone wants a gold Gizmo.”

  Horrid Henry looked sadly at Perfect Peter. “Not anymore. They’re very unlucky, you know. Every single person who’s got one has died horribly.”

  Perfect Peter stared at Henry, then at his golden Gizmo.

  “That’s not true, Henry.”

  “Yes it is.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  Horrid Henry walked slowly around Peter’s room. Every so often he made a little note in a notebook.

  “Marbles, check. Three knights, check. Nature kit—nah. Coin collection, check.”

  “What are you doing?” said Peter.

  “Just looking at your stuff to see what I want when you’re gone.”

  “Stop it!” said Peter. “You just made that up about gold Gizmos—didn’t you?”

  “No,” said Henry. “It’s in all the newspapers. There was the boy out walking his dog who fell into a pit of molten lava.

  There was the girl who drowned in the toilet, and then that poor boy who—”

  “I don’t want to die,” said Perfect Peter. He looked pale. “What am I going to do?”

  Henry paused. “There’s nothing you can do. Once you’ve got it you’re sunk.”

  Peter jumped up.

  “I’ll throw it away!”

  “That wouldn’t work,” said Henry.

  “You’d still be jinxed. There’s only one way out—”

  “What?” said Perfect Peter.

  “If you give the gold away to someone brave enough to take it, then the jinx passes to them.”

  “But no one will take it from me!” wailed Peter.

  “Tell you what,” said Henry. “I’ll take the risk.”

  “Are you sure?” said Peter.

  “Of course,” said Horrid Henry. “You’re my brother. You’d risk your life for me.”

  “OK,” said Peter. He handed Henry the gold Gizmo. “Thank you, Henry. You’re the best brother in the world.”

  “I know,” said Horrid Henry.

  He actually had his very own gold Gizmo in his hand. It was his, fair and square. He couldn’t wait to see Moody Margaret’s face when he waved it in front of her. And Rude Ralph. He would be green with envy.

  Then Perfect Peter burst into tears and ran downstairs.

  “Mom!” he wailed. “Henry’s going to die! And it’s all my fault.”

  “What?” screeched Mom.

  Uh oh, thought Henry. He clutched his treasure.

  Mom stormed upstairs. She snatched the gold Gizmo from Henry.

  “How could you be so horrid, Henry?” shouted Mom. “No TV for a week! Poor Peter. Now get ready. We’re going shopping.”

  “NO!” howled Henry. “I’m not going!”

  * * *

  Horrid Henry scowled as he followed Mom up and down the aisles of the Happy Shopper. He’d crashed the cart into some people so Mom wouldn’t let him push it. Then she caught him filling the cart with chips and soda and made him put them all back. What a horrible rotten day this had turned out to be.

  “Yum, cabbage,” said Perfect Peter. “Could we get some?”

  “Certainly,” said Mom.

  “And spinach, my favorite!” said Peter.

  “Help yourself,” said Mom.

  “I want candy!” screamed Henry.

  “No,” said Mom.

  “I want doughnuts!” screamed Henry.

  “No!” screamed Mom.

  “There’s nothing to eat here!” shrieked Henry.

  “Stop being horrid, Henry,” hissed Mom. “Everyone’s looking.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Well I do,” said Mom. “Now make yourself useful. Go and get a box of Sweet Tweets.”

  “All right,” said Henry. Now was his chance to escape. Before Mom could stop him he grabbed a cart and whizzed off.

  “Watch out for the racing driver!” squealed Henry. Shoppers scattered as he zoomed down the aisle and screeched to a halt in front of the cereal section. There were the Sweet Tweets. A huge pile of them, in a display tower, under a twinkling sign saying, “A free Gizmo in every box! Collect them all!”

  Henry reached for a box and put it in his cart.

  And then Horrid Henry stopped. What was the point of buying a whole box if it just contained another green Gizmo? Henry didn’t think he could bear it. I’ll just check what’s inside, he thought. Then, if it is a green one, I’ll be prepared for the disappointment.

  Carefully, he opened the box and slipped his hand inside. Aha! There was the toy. He lifted it out, and held it up to the light. Rats! A green Gizmo, just what he’d feared.

  But wait. There was bound to be a child out there longing for a green Gizmo to complete his collection just as much as Henry was longing for a gold. Wouldn’t it be selfish and horrid of Henry to take a green he didn’t need when it would make someone else so happy?

  I’ll just peek inside one more box, though
t Horrid Henry, replacing the box he’d opened and reaching for another.

  Rip! He tore it open. Red.

  Hmmm, thought Henry. Red is surplus to requirements.

  Rip! Another box opened. Blue.

  Rip! Rip! Rip!

  Green! Green! Blue!

  I’ll just try one more at the back, thought Henry. He stood on tiptoe, and stretched as far as he could. His hand reached inside the box and grabbed hold of the toy.

  The tower wobbled.

  CRASH!

  Horrid Henry sprawled on the ground. Henry was covered in Sweet Tweets. So was the floor. So were all the shoppers.

  “HELP!” screamed the manager, skidding in the mess. “Whose horrid boy is this?”

  There was a very long silence.

  “Mine,” whispered Mom.

  * * *

  Horrid Henry sat in the kitchen surrounded by boxes and boxes and boxes of Sweet Tweets. He’d be eating Sweet Tweets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for weeks. But it was worth it, thought Henry happily. Banned for life from the Happy Shopper, how wonderful. He uncurled his hand to enjoy again the glint of gold.

  Although he had noticed that Scrummy Yummies were offering a free Twizzle card in every box. Hmmmm, Twizzle cards.

  2

  HORRID HENRY’S HOMEWORK

  Ahhhh, thought Horrid Henry. He turned on the TV and stretched out. School was over. What could be better than lying on the sofa all afternoon, eating chips and watching TV? Wasn’t life great?

  Then Mom came in. She did not look like a mom who thought life was grand. She looked like a mom on the warpath against boys who lay on sofas all afternoon, eating chips and watching TV.