“It’s wonderful!” said Mom.
“It’s wonderful!” said Peter.
“But where’s the TV?” said Henry.
“No TV here, thank goodness,” said Mom. “We’ve got books.”
“But where are the beds?” said Henry.
“No beds here, thank goodness,” said Dad. “We’ve got sleeping bags.”
“But where’s the pool?” said Henry.
“No pool,” said Dad. “We’ll swim in the river.”
“Where’s the toilet?” said Peter.
Dad pointed at a distant outhouse. Three people stood waiting.
“All the way over there?” said Peter. “I’m not complaining,” he added quickly.
Mom and Dad unpacked the car. Henry stood and scowled.
“Who wants to help put up the tent?” asked Mom.
“I do!” said Dad.
“I do!” said Peter.
Henry was horrified. “We have to put up our own tent?”
“Of course,” said Mom.
“I don’t like it here,” said Henry.
“I want to go camping in the other place.”
“That’s not camping,” said Dad. “Those tents have beds in them.And bathrooms.And showers.And fridges. And microwaves, and TVs. Horrible.” Dad shuddered.
“Horrible,” said Peter.
“And we have such a lovely, snug tent here,” said Mom. “Nothing modern—just wooden pegs and poles.”
“Well, I want to stay there,” said Henry.
“We’re staying here,” said Dad.
“NO!” screamed Henry.
“YES!” screamed Dad.
I am sorry to say that Henry then had the longest, loudest, noisiest, shrillest, most horrible tantrum you can imagine.
Did you think that a horrid boy like Henry would like nothing better
than sleeping on hard rocky ground in a soggy sleeping bag without a pillow?
You thought wrong.
Henry liked comfy beds.
Henry liked crisp sheets.
Henry liked hot baths.
Henry liked microwave dinners, TV, and noise.
He did not like cold showers, fresh air, and quiet.
Far off in the distance the sweet sound of loud music drifted toward them.
“Aren’t you glad we’re not staying in that awful, noisy place?” said Dad.
“Oh yes,” said Mom.
“Oh yes,” said Perfect Peter.
Henry pretended he was a bulldozer come to knock down tents and squash campers.
“Henry, don’t barge the tent!” yelled Dad.
Henry pretended he was a hungry Tyrannosaurus Rex.
“OW!” shrieked Peter.
“Henry, don’t be horrid!” yelled Mom.
She looked up at the dark cloudy sky.
“It’s going to rain,” said Mom.
“Don’t worry,” said Dad. “It never rains when I’m camping.”
“The boys and I will go and collect some more firewood,” said Mom.
“I’m not moving,” said Horrid Henry.
While Dad made a campfire, Henry played his radio as loud as he could, stomping in time to the terrible music of the Killer Boy Rats.
“Henry, turn that noise down this minute,” said Dad.
Henry pretended not to hear.
“HENRY!” yelled Dad. “TURN THAT DOWN!”
Henry turned the volume down the teeniest tiniest fraction.
The terrible sounds of the Killer Boy Rats continued to boom over the quiet campsite.
Campers emerged from their tents and shook their fists. Dad switched off Henry’s radio.
“Anything wrong, Dad?” asked Henry, in his sweetest voice.
“No,” said Dad.
Mom and Peter returned carrying armfuls of firewood.
It started to drizzle.
“This is fun,” said Mom, slapping a mosquito.
“Isn’t it?” said Dad. He was heating up some cans of baked beans.
The drizzle turned into a downpour.
The wind blew.
The campfire hissed, and went out.
“Never mind,” said Dad brightly. “We’ll eat our baked beans cold.”
Mom was snoring.
Dad was snoring.
Peter was snoring.
Henry tossed and turned. But whichever way he turned in his damp sleeping bag, he seemed to be lying on sharp, pointy stones.
Above him, mosquitoes whined.
I’ll never get to sleep, he thought, kicking Peter.
How am I going to bear this for fourteen days?
* * *
Around four o’clock on Day Five the family huddled inside the cold, damp, smelly tent listening to the howling wind and the pouring rain.
“Time for a walk!” said Dad.
“Great idea!” said Mom, sneezing. “I’ll get the boots.”
“Great idea!” said Peter, sneezing. “I’ll get the jackets.”
“But it’s pouring outside,” said Henry.
“So?” said Dad. “What better time to go for a walk?”
“I’m not coming,” said Horrid Henry.
“I am,” said Perfect Peter. “I don’t mind the rain.”
Dad poked his head outside the tent.
“The rain has stopped,” he said. “I’ll remake the fire.”
“I’m not coming,” said Henry. “We need more firewood,” said Dad. “Henry can stay here and collect some.And make sure it’s dry.”
Henry poked his head outside the tent.The rain had stopped, but the sky was still cloudy.The fire spat.
I won’t go, thought Henry.The forest will be all muddy and wet.
He looked around to see if there was any wood closer to home.
That was when he saw the thick, dry wooden pegs holding up all the tents.
Henry looked to the left. Henry looked to the right. No one was around.
If I just take a few pegs from each tent, he thought, they’ll never be missed.
When Mom and Dad came back they were delighted.
“What a lovely roaring fire,” said Mom.
“Clever of you to find some dry wood,” said Dad.
The wind blew.
* * *
Henry dreamed he was floating in a cold river, floating, floating, floating.
He woke up. He shook his head. He was floating.The tent was filled with cold muddy water.
Then the tent collapsed on top of them.
Henry, Peter, Mom, and Dad stood outside in the rain and stared at the river of water gushing through their collapsed tent.
All around them soaking wet campers were staring at their collapsed tents.
Peter sneezed.
Mom sneezed.
Dad sneezed.
Henry coughed, choked, spluttered and sneezed.
“I don’t understand it,” said Dad. “This tent never collapses.”
“What are we going to do?” said Mom.
“I know,” said Henry. “I’ve got a very good idea.”
Two hours later Mom, Dad, Henry, and Peter were sitting on a sofa bed inside a tent as big as a house, eating chips and watching TV.
The sun was shining.The sky was blue.
“Now this is what I call a vacation!” said Henry.
And now for a sneak peek at one of the laugh-out-loud stories in Horrid Henry Tricks the Tooth Fairy
HORRID HENRY’S WEDDING
“I’m not wearing these horrible clothes and that’s that!”
Horrid Henry glared at the mirror.A stranger smothered in a lilac ruffled shirt, green satin knickerbockers, tights, pink cummerbund tied in a floppy bow, and pointy white satin shoes with gold buckles glared back at him.
Henry had never seen anyone looking so silly in his life.
“Aha ha ha ha ha!” shrieked Horrid Henry, pointing at the mirror.
Then Henry peered more closely.The ridiculous looking boy was him.
Perfect Peter stood next to Horrid He
nry. He too was smothered in a lilac ruffled shirt, green satin knickerbockers, tights, pink cummerbund, and pointy white shoes with gold buckles. But, unlike Henry, Peter was smiling.
“Aren’t they adorable!” squealed Prissy Polly. “That’s how my children are always going to dress.”
Prissy Polly was Horrid Henry’s horrible older cousin. Prissy Polly was always squeaking and squealing:
“Eeek, it’s a speck of dust.”
“Eeek, it’s a puddle.”
“Eeek, my hair is a mess.”
But when Prissy Polly announced she was getting married to Pimply Paul and wanted Henry and Peter to be ring bearers, Mom said yes before Henry could stop her.
“What’s a ring bearer?” asked Henry suspiciously.
“A ring bearer carries the wedding rings down the aisle on a satin cushion,” said Mom.
“And throws confetti afterward,” said Dad.
Henry liked the idea of throwing confetti. But carrying rings on a cushion? No thanks.
“I don’t want to be a ring bearer,” said Henry.
“I do, I do,” said Peter.
“You’re going to be a ring bearer, and that’s that,” said Mom.
“And you’ll behave yourself,” said Dad. “It’s very kind of cousin Polly to ask you.”
Henry scowled.
“Who’d want to be married to her?” said Henry. “I wouldn’t if you paid me a million dollars.”
But for some reason the groom, Pimply Paul, did want to marry Prissy Polly.And, as far as Henry knew, he had not been paid one million dollars.
Pimply Paul was also trying on his wedding clothes. He looked ridiculous in a black top hat, lilac shirt, and a black jacket covered in gold swirls.
“I won’t wear these silly clothes,” said Henry.
“Oh be quiet, you little brat,” snapped Pimply Paul.
Horrid Henry glared at him.
“I won’t,” said Henry. “And that’s final.”
“Henry, stop being horrid,” said Mom. She looked extremely silly in a big floppy hat dripping with flowers.
Suddenly Henry grabbed at the lace ruffles around his throat.
“I’m choking,” he gasped. “I can’t breathe.”
Then Henry fell to the floor and rolled around.
“Uggggghhhhhhh,” moaned Henry.
“I’m dying.”
“Get up this minute, Henry!” said Dad.
“Eeek, there’s dirt on the floor!” shrieked Polly.
“Can’t you control that child?” hissed Pimply Paul.
“I DON’T WANT TO BE A RING BEARER!” howled Horrid Henry.
“Thank you so much for asking me to be a ring bearer, Polly,” shouted Perfect Peter, trying to be heard over Henry’s screams.
“You’re welcome,” shouted Polly.
“Stop that, Henry!” ordered Mom. “I’ve never been so ashamed in my life.”
“I hate children,” muttered Pimply Paul under his breath.
Horrid Henry stopped. Unfortunately, his ring bearer clothes looked as fresh and crisp as ever.
All right, thought Horrid Henry.You want me at this wedding? You’ve got me.
* * *
If Henry has to sit through a boring wedding and wear tights, he’s going to have some fun—even if it gets him into trouble. Find out what horrid things Henry has planned in Horrid Henry Tricks the Tooth Fairy!
HORRID HENRY AND THE MEGA-MEAN TIME MACHINE
Horrid Henry reluctantly goes for a hike; builds a time machine and convinces Perfect Peter that boys wear dresses in the future; Perfect Peter plays one of the worst tricks ever on his brother; and Henry’s aunt takes the family to a fancy restaurant, so his parents bribe him to behave.
HORRID HENRY TRICKS THE TOOTH FAIRY
Horrid Henry tries to trick the Tooth Fairy into giving him more money; sends Moody Margaret packing; causes his teachers to run screaming from school; and single-handedly wrecks a wedding.
HORRID HENRY’S STINKBOMB
Horrid Henry uses a stinkbomb as a toxic weapon in his long-running war with Moody Margaret; uses all his tricks to win the school reading competition; goes for a sleepover and retreats in horror when he finds that other people’s houses aren’t always as nice as his own; and has the joy of seeing Miss Battle-Axe in hot water with the principle when he knows it was all his fault.
HORRID HENRY AND THE MUMMY’S CURSE
Horrid Henry indulges his favorite hobby—collecting Gizmos; has a bad time with his spelling homework; starts a rumor that there’s a shark in the pool; and spooks Perfect Peter with the mummy’s curse.
HORRID HENRY AND THE SOCCER FIEND
Horrid Henry reads Perfect Peter’s diary and improves it; goes shopping with Mom and tries to make her buy him some really nice new sneakers; is horrified when his old enemy Bossy Bill turns up at school; and tries by any means, to win the class soccer match.
About the Author
Photo: Francesco Guidicini
Francesca Simon spent her childhood on the beach in California and then went to Yale and Oxford Universities to study medieval history and literature. She now lives in London with her family. She has written over forty-five books and won the Children’s Book of the Year in 2008 at the Galaxy British Book Awards for Horrid Henry and the Abominable Snowman.
Horrid Henry Page 3