Patricia Read Online Free PDF

Don’t go down where the whole village is. I hate to have you knocking around with all the loafers of the village!”
    Gloria Van Emmons giggled and called rudely from the gate: “Okay, Mrs. Prentiss,” and darted on ahead.
    Patricia wondered what her mother would think of such informal address. Most of the girls at the public school would have been more courteous, she thought. But she went on her way, happy to be off skating, though she wasn’t especially fond of these girls.
    They were halfway down the hill to the landing, where they intended to sit down and put on their skates, when a large snowball struck Patricia’s shoulder and another knocked her hat off, while a third smashed into the back of her head and made her so dizzy she lost her balance and toppled over in the snow.
    â€œThere they are!” cried Gloria with a giggle. “That’s Thorny Bellingham and Terence Gilder with his gang. I knew all the time they were coming, but I didn’t want to tell your mother, because I didn’t know who Thorny would bring with him. And it’s lucky I didn’t. Your mother wouldn’t have stood for Terence. His father keeps the tavern down at the crossroads, but he’s a swell guy; he always brings candy, and he can skate all around anybody else I know. Come on, Pat, be a sport and get up. You don’t want them to think you’re a softy!”
    Patricia sat up and looked back angrily. She hated Thorny! She was almost sure he had been the one who had thrown the last snowball. She felt dazed with the sting of it, and large icy fragments of it were sliding down inside her collar and clipping down her back.
    The boys came on with a rush. They were approaching from the direction of the Prentiss house. Patricia suspected that her mother must have had something to do with their coming, or at least with their knowing just where to find the girls.
    She struggled to her feet and gave her head a little shake, but she did not smile, nor respond to the noisy greeting of the new arrivals. Instead, she stood at one side to let them pass, indignant scorn upon her, her young eyes flashing.
    â€œHello, Pitty-Patty, what’s eating you?” asked Thorny, leering up into her face. “Want yer face washed, Pitty-Patty?” He stopped and gathered a big handful of snow and rushed down the hill at her as if to carry out his threat.
    Patricia in a flash saw what he was about to do and dodged his onslaught so skillfully that Thorny was thrown off his balance and went down the hill, rolling over and over from the unexpected counter and cutting a long jagged gash on the back of his knuckles on a stone as he fell. It was little more than a deep scratch, but it brought the blood and it was painful. Thorny, with a howl, clasped his injured hand and knew not that he was weeping large splashing, furious tears. When the sting of the pain was more bearable, he lifted his voice in words—choice epithets, the worst he had been able to learn so far in his young life—and applied his maimed hand to his mouth. Sucking furiously, he unfolded himself from the earth and made as if he would come toward her again.
    Patricia meanwhile stood her ground, her frightened young chin held steadily, haughtily, though it was all she could do to keep her lips from trembling. She had seen enough of Thorny to know that he would stop at nothing to wreak his vengeance upon her.
    After a surprised, swift, admiring glance at her, the little audience took up the fight, this time aimed at Thorny.
    â€œCry-baby, cry! Cry-baby, cry !” they hailed him, pointing the finger of scorn, albeit ready to run themselves should Thorny recover his poise too soon.
    Thorny turned his bleared anger toward them at once.
    â€œAw, shut up, you fool kids!” he roared. “I’m not crying. That’s just—just—perspiration, that’s all!” he said, mopping off his cheeks with his dirty hands. Then,