Horrible Harry and the Mud Gremlins Read Online Free PDF

day, Sid. You get to eat a double fungus sandwich. Salami and bread!”
    Song Lee giggled. “Can you show us the kingdom of mushrooms at recess?”
    â€œAt recess,” Harry said holding up a finger. “But first, anyone who wants to see it has to promise not to tell where it is. It’s a secret place.”
    Everyone watched Harry make a small circle with his index finger and thumb. “Put your fingers in here.”
    One by one we put our index fingers inside. It was a tight fit!
    â€œNow repeat after me,” Harry said, lowering his voice and squeezing our fingers. We huddled together on the moon rug and listened.
    â€œI promise ...” Harry began.
    â€œI promise ...” we repeated.

    â€œTo follow Harry to the kingdom of mushrooms ...”
    â€œTo follow Harry to the kingdom of mushrooms ...” we answered.
    â€œAnd never tell anyone where we go.”
    â€œAnd never tell anyone where we go,” we repeated.
    â€œGood,” Harry said, breaking up our circle of fingers. “At recess, you’re going to have the mushroom treat of a lifetime!” Then he tucked his microscope necklace inside his sweater and gave us a toothy smile.

The Writing Wall

    I t was a bummer being stuck in class all morning. We had to wait three hours until lunch recess. All we really wanted to do was visit the kingdom of mushrooms!
    Miss Mackle noticed our long faces.
    And frowns.
    She immediately wrote “Writing Workshop” on the blackboard, then turned around with a big smile. “Sometimes, when we’re having a bad day, it’s the best day to write!”
    Harry and I exchanged a look.

    Mary rolled her eyes.
    â€œI want you to write about something that bugs you, and then illustrate it. I’ll display your stories and pictures up on a Writing Wall out in the hall.”
    â€œCan I make bugs for the wall?” Harry asked.
    â€œSure! That sounds like fun,” Miss Mackle replied. “Just as soon as you finish your story.”
    Harry’s face got longer. He wanted to make bugs first.
    â€œI know what I’m writing about—my brother!” Ida groaned. “He really bugs me.”
    Miss Mackle smiled. “No names please. But you can write about what a person does that bugs you ... like teasing or yelling or—”
    â€œSmoking,” Dexter interrupted. “I hate smoke.”
    â€œI’m writing about lice,” Sidney yelled. “I got them last year. That really bugged me.”
    â€œWhat good ideas!” the teacher exclaimed. “Anybody else?”
    Song Lee raised her hand. “I remember once my family got dressed up and went to a nice restaurant. There was sticky gum under the table. I hated that!”
    Miss Mackle put her hand over her heart.

    â€œI’ve got the worst one,” Harry bragged. “Tick bites. My grandma found one on her back last summer after we came back from a hike. That hairy bugger was half in and half out of her skin. As soon as I finish writing about it, I’ll make ticks and lice for the writing wall.”
    While everyone cringed, Ida raised her hand. “I’ve got another one now. Black ice. My mom and I nearly got in an accident last winter. Our car swerved all over the road!”
    Miss Mackle gasped. “Oh no! Let’s begin writing now!”
    Mary scowled. She couldn’t think of anything. I couldn’t either.
    Then Mary started tapping her pencil.
    That’s it, I thought. Tapping bugged me. Finger tapping, pencil tapping, foot tapping ... I got busy writing.

    Thirty minutes later, we shared our stories. One by one we used Miss Mackle’s microphone in the front of the room. Even the teacher read her story aloud. She hated long meetings.
    Mary was the only one who didn’t share. “I have writers’ block,” she complained. “All the things I hate have been taken. I don’t want to write on the same thing that someone