Read Online Horrid Henry and the Abominable Snowman by Francesca Simon, Tony Ross - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Francesca Simon, Tony Ross
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Margaret’s?
’Course it was, thought Henry.
“Are you sure?” rumbled his tummy.
“Yeah,” said Henry.
“Because I really want that ice cream,” growled his tummy. “Why don’t you double-check?”
Horrid Henry got out of bed.
He was sure his was bigger and better than Margaret’s. He was absolutely sure his was bigger and better.
But what if—
I can’t sleep without checking, thought Henry.
Tip toe.
Tip toe.
Tip toe.
Horrid Henry slipped out of the front door.
The whole street was silent and white and frosty. Every house had a snowman in front. All of them much smaller than Henry’s, he noted with satisfaction.
And there was his Abominable Snowman looming up, Viking horns scraping the sky. Horrid Henry gazed at him proudly. Next to him was Peter’s pathetic pimple, with its stupid black stones. A snow lump, thought Henry.
Then he looked over at Margaret’s snowgirl. Maybe it had fallen down, thought Henry hopefully. And if it hadn’t, maybe he could help it on its way…
He looked again. And again. That evil fiend!
Margaret had sneaked an extra ball of snow on top, complete with a huge flowery hat.
That little cheater, thought Horrid Henry indignantly. She’d sneaked out after bedtime and made hers bigger than his. How dare she? Well, he’d fix Margaret. He’d add more snow to his right away.
Horrid Henry looked around. Where could he find more snow? He’d already used up every drop on his front lawn to build his giant, and no new snow had fallen.
Henry shivered.
Brr, it was freezing. He needed more snow, and he needed it fast. His slippers were starting to feel very wet and cold.
Horrid Henry eyed Peter’s pathetic lump of snow. Hmmm, thought Horrid Henry.
Hmmm, thought Horrid Henry again.
Well, it’s not doing any good sitting there, thought Henry. Someone could trip over it. Someone could hurt himself. In fact, Peter’s snow lump was a danger. He had to act fast before someone fell over it and broke a leg.
Quickly, he scooped up Peter’s snowman and stacked it carefully on top of his. Then, standing on his tippy-toes, he balanced the Abominable Snowman’s Viking horns on top.
Ta-da!
Much better. And much bigger than Margaret’s.
Teeth chattering, Horrid Henry sneaked back into his house and crept into bed. Ice cream, here I come, thought Horrid Henry.
Ding dong.
Horrid Henry jumped out of bed. What a morning to oversleep.
Perfect Peter ran and opened the door.
“We’re from the Frosty Freeze Ice Cream Factory,” said the man, beaming. “And you’ve got the winning snowman out front.”
“I won!” screeched Horrid Henry. “I won!” He tore down the stairs and out the door. Oh what a wonderful, wonderful day. The sky was blue. The sun was shining—huh???
Horrid Henry looked around.
Horrid Henry’s Abominable Snowman was gone.
“Margaret!” screamed Henry. “I’ll kill you!”
But Moody Margaret’s snowgirl was gone too.
The Abominable Snowman’s helmet lay on its side on the ground. All that was left of Henry’s snowman was…Peter’s pimple, with its two black stone eyes. A big blue ribbon was pinned to the top.
“But that’s my snowman,” said Perfect Peter.
“But…but…” said Horrid Henry.
“You mean, I won?” said Peter.
“That’s wonderful, Peter,” said Mom.
“That’s fantastic, Peter,” said Dad.
“All the others melted,” said the Frosty Freeze man. “Yours was the only one left. It must have been a giant.”
“It was,” howled Horrid Henry.
Horrid Henry was bored. Horrid Henry was fed up. He’d been banned from the computer for rampaging through Our Town Museum. He’d been banned from watching TV just because he was caught watching a teeny tiny bit extra after he’d been told to switch it off right after Mutant Max. Could he help it if an exciting new series about a rebel robot had started right after? How would he know if it were any good unless he watched some of it?
It was completely unfair
’Course it was, thought Henry.
“Are you sure?” rumbled his tummy.
“Yeah,” said Henry.
“Because I really want that ice cream,” growled his tummy. “Why don’t you double-check?”
Horrid Henry got out of bed.
He was sure his was bigger and better than Margaret’s. He was absolutely sure his was bigger and better.
But what if—
I can’t sleep without checking, thought Henry.
Tip toe.
Tip toe.
Tip toe.
Horrid Henry slipped out of the front door.
The whole street was silent and white and frosty. Every house had a snowman in front. All of them much smaller than Henry’s, he noted with satisfaction.
And there was his Abominable Snowman looming up, Viking horns scraping the sky. Horrid Henry gazed at him proudly. Next to him was Peter’s pathetic pimple, with its stupid black stones. A snow lump, thought Henry.
Then he looked over at Margaret’s snowgirl. Maybe it had fallen down, thought Henry hopefully. And if it hadn’t, maybe he could help it on its way…
He looked again. And again. That evil fiend!
Margaret had sneaked an extra ball of snow on top, complete with a huge flowery hat.
That little cheater, thought Horrid Henry indignantly. She’d sneaked out after bedtime and made hers bigger than his. How dare she? Well, he’d fix Margaret. He’d add more snow to his right away.
Horrid Henry looked around. Where could he find more snow? He’d already used up every drop on his front lawn to build his giant, and no new snow had fallen.
Henry shivered.
Brr, it was freezing. He needed more snow, and he needed it fast. His slippers were starting to feel very wet and cold.
Horrid Henry eyed Peter’s pathetic lump of snow. Hmmm, thought Horrid Henry.
Hmmm, thought Horrid Henry again.
Well, it’s not doing any good sitting there, thought Henry. Someone could trip over it. Someone could hurt himself. In fact, Peter’s snow lump was a danger. He had to act fast before someone fell over it and broke a leg.
Quickly, he scooped up Peter’s snowman and stacked it carefully on top of his. Then, standing on his tippy-toes, he balanced the Abominable Snowman’s Viking horns on top.
Ta-da!
Much better. And much bigger than Margaret’s.
Teeth chattering, Horrid Henry sneaked back into his house and crept into bed. Ice cream, here I come, thought Horrid Henry.
Ding dong.
Horrid Henry jumped out of bed. What a morning to oversleep.
Perfect Peter ran and opened the door.
“We’re from the Frosty Freeze Ice Cream Factory,” said the man, beaming. “And you’ve got the winning snowman out front.”
“I won!” screeched Horrid Henry. “I won!” He tore down the stairs and out the door. Oh what a wonderful, wonderful day. The sky was blue. The sun was shining—huh???
Horrid Henry looked around.
Horrid Henry’s Abominable Snowman was gone.
“Margaret!” screamed Henry. “I’ll kill you!”
But Moody Margaret’s snowgirl was gone too.
The Abominable Snowman’s helmet lay on its side on the ground. All that was left of Henry’s snowman was…Peter’s pimple, with its two black stone eyes. A big blue ribbon was pinned to the top.
“But that’s my snowman,” said Perfect Peter.
“But…but…” said Horrid Henry.
“You mean, I won?” said Peter.
“That’s wonderful, Peter,” said Mom.
“That’s fantastic, Peter,” said Dad.
“All the others melted,” said the Frosty Freeze man. “Yours was the only one left. It must have been a giant.”
“It was,” howled Horrid Henry.
Horrid Henry was bored. Horrid Henry was fed up. He’d been banned from the computer for rampaging through Our Town Museum. He’d been banned from watching TV just because he was caught watching a teeny tiny bit extra after he’d been told to switch it off right after Mutant Max. Could he help it if an exciting new series about a rebel robot had started right after? How would he know if it were any good unless he watched some of it?
It was completely unfair
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