Margaret and the Moth Tree Read Online Free PDF Page A

the slap.
    But instead of apologizing, or kissing it better, or doing any of the things a mother should do, Miss Switch began to laugh. It was a cold, harsh sound, like the screeching of a crow. And with a last grin at Margaret’s disbelieving face, she swept out of the room.
    For you see, every story has a villain. And in case you hadn’t guessed, the villain of this story is Miss Switch.
    CHAPTER 7 The Home of the Dregs
    On her first night at the Hopeton Orphanage, Margaret cried herself into a fitful sleep.
    When she awoke the next morning in her lumpy bed, several moments passed before she remembered where she was. But when a scowling boy with chestnut curls appeared and shook her roughly by the shoulders, the events of the previous day came rushing back.
    â€œUp, dreg!” he shouted. “Make your bed!”
    Margaret blinked around at the rows of narrow beds and yawning orphans. Across the room, other children were being kicked and poked awake by the cruel-looking blonde girl who had given the orders the day before.
    â€œOuch!” Margaret cried.
    The curly-haired boy had pinched her on the arm.
    â€œWhat are you staring at? Move faster when you get an order!” he said.
    Margaret hurried to straighten her flimsy sheets, and the boy stomped off to the next bed.
    â€œThe first few days are always the worst,” said a hushed voice, and Margaret saw the wide-eyed mousy girl who had shaken her head so solemnly the day before.
    Margaret was full of questions, but before she could whisper any of them to the mousy girl, a screeching voice filled the room.
    â€œYou worthless little runtworm!”
    The bossy blonde girl was snarling at a tiny boy who was struggling to lift a large laundry basket.
    â€œYou’re the most useless snizzler I’ve ever seen!” spat the girl.
    Grabbing the basket from the tiny boy’s hands and lifting it high in the air, she tipped it over his head. Rolls of grimy socks tumbled out in a wave until the boy was buried in a smelly pyramid, then the girl dropped the basket so that it landed with a thump on top of the heap. She threw her head back and laughed loudly. The curly-haired boy snickered.
    â€œThat’s Lacey Walloper,” the mousy girl whispered. “One of Switch’s Pets. And the other’s Christopher Thrashley. You’ll have to watch out for them. My name’s Judy. Just follow me and do what I do.”
    Turning to a hamper of dirty towels, Judy grabbed hold of one side and Margaret took the other.
    â€œJudy,” Margaret whispered as they made their way out of the room, “what happened yesterday?”
    â€œThe Switch,” said Judy. “That’s what we call her when she’s not around. She gets charity money from those ladies for the orphanage, but she only uses it on herself. She has to make everything look good when they come to visit, but they always telephone beforehand, so she has time to put out all the nice things.”
    â€œCouldn’t you tell someone?” Margaret asked. “Couldn’t you call the police?”
    Judy shook her head sadly. “Some kids have tried, but no one believes them. And the Switch can make things really terrible for anyone who gets in her way.” Judy lowered her voice. “Once, Phoebe Frizzleton forgot to smile when the C.L.C. ladies asked how she was. Switch made her stand in the middle of a field during a lightning storm. Phoebe couldn’t sleep for weeks after that. It’s best to just keep your head down and try not to get noticed.”
    Margaret and Judy filed down the hallway behind other pairs of orphans and their hampers. Then, one by one, they emptied their loads down an enormous laundry chute. Turning away from the chute, Margaret noticed a new group of children who had come from a neighboring room to join Lacey and Christopher. They were laughing with each other, and many had smug looks on their faces.
    Judy nudged her.