Matilda roald dahl

MATILDA
BOOKSFORCHILDREN
BYTHESAMEAUTHOR

JamesandtheGiantPeach
CharlieandtheChocolateFactory
FantasticMrFox
TheMagicFinger
CharlieandtheGreatGlassElevator
Danny,theChampionoftheWorld
TheWonderfulStoryofHenrySugarandSixMore
TheEnormousCrocodile
TheTwits
George'sMarvellousMedicine
RoaldDahl'sRevoltingRhymes
TheBFG
DirtyBeasts
TheWitches
Boy
TheGiraffeandthePellyandMe
GoingSolo


RoaldDahl


MATILDA
IllustrationsbyQuentinBlake

Matildaisageniuswhonotonlyhastodealwithloud,obnoxious,idiotparentswho

scapegoatherforeverythingbutwith"theTrunchbull"!"TheTrunchbull"isactuallyMiss
Trunchbulltheex-Olympichammer-thrower,HeadMistressofMatilda'sschoolwhohas
terrorizedgenerationsofstudentsandteachers.When"theTrunchbull"goesafterMiss
Honey,theoneteacher,theoneperson,whosupportsandbelievesinMatilda,ourheroine
decidesit'stimetofightback.Herparentsand"theTrunchbull"don'tstandachance!


Contents


TheReaderofBooks
MrWormwood,theGreatCarDealer
TheHatandtheSuperglue
TheGhost
Arithmetic
ThePlatinum-BlondMan
MissHoney
TheTrunchbull
TheParents
ThrowingtheHammer
BruceBogtrotterandtheCake
Lavender
TheWeeklyTest
TheFirstMiracle
TheSecondMiracle
MissHoney'sCottage
MissHoney'sStory


TheNames

ThePractice
TheThirdMiracle
ANewHome





TheReaderofBooks
It'safunnythingaboutmothersandfathers.Evenwhentheirownchildisthemost
disgustinglittleblisteryoucouldeverimagine,theystillthinkthatheorsheiswonderful.
Someparentsgofurther.Theybecomesoblindedbyadorationtheymanageto
convincethemselvestheirchildhasqualitiesofgenius.
Well,thereisnothingverywrongwithallthis.It'sthewayoftheworld.Itisonly
whentheparentsbegintellingusaboutthebrillianceoftheirownrevoltingoffspring,that
westartshouting,"Bringusabasin!We'regoingtobesick!"




Schoolteacherssufferagooddealfromhavingtolistentothissortoftwaddlefrom
proudparents,buttheyusuallygettheirownbackwhenthetimecomestowritetheendof-termreports.IfIwereateacherIwouldcookupsomerealscorchersforthechildren
ofdotingparents."YoursonMaximilian",Iwouldwrite,"isatotalwash-out.Ihopeyou
haveafamilybusinessyoucanpushhimintowhenheleavesschoolbecausehesureas
heckwon'tgetajobanywhereelse."OrifIwerefeelinglyricalthatday,Imightwrite,"It
isacurioustruththatgrasshoppershavetheirhearing-organsinthesidesoftheabdomen.
YourdaughterVanessa,judgingbywhatshe'slearntthisterm,hasnohearing-organsat
all."

Imightevendelvedeeperintonaturalhistoryandsay,"Theperiodicalcicadaspends
sixyearsasagrubunderground,andnomorethansixdaysasafreecreatureofsunlight
andair.YoursonWilfredhasspentsixyearsasagrubinthisschoolandwearestill
waitingforhimtoemergefromthechrysalis."Aparticularlypoisonouslittlegirlmight
stingmeintosaying,"Fionahasthesameglacialbeautyasaniceberg,butunlikethe
icebergshehasabsolutelynothingbelowthesurface."I





thinkImightenjoywritingend-of-termreportsforthestinkersinmyclass.But
enoughofthat.Wehavetogeton.
Occasionallyonecomesacrossparentswhotaketheoppositeline,whoshowno
interestatallintheirchildren,andtheseofcoursearefarworsethanthedotingones.Mr
andMrsWormwoodweretwosuchparents.TheyhadasoncalledMichaelandadaughter

calledMatilda,andtheparents
lookeduponMatildainparticularas
nothingmorethanascab.Ascabissomethingyouhavetoputupwithuntilthetime
comeswhenyoucanpickitoffandflickitaway.MrandMrsWormwoodlookedforward
enormouslytothetimewhentheycouldpicktheirlittledaughteroffandflickheraway,
preferablyintothenextcountyorevenfurtherthanthat.
Itisbadenoughwhenparentstreatordinarychildrenasthoughtheywerescabsand

bunions,butitbecomessomehowalotworsewhenthechildinquestion
is
extraordinary,andbythatImeansensitiveandbrilliant.Matildawasbothofthesethings,
butaboveallshewasbrilliant.Hermindwassonimbleandshewassoquicktolearnthat
herabilityshouldhavebeenobviouseventothemosthalf-wittedofparents.ButMrand

MrsWormwoodwerebothsogormlessandsowrappedupintheirownsillylittlelives
thattheyfailedtonoticeanythingunusualabouttheirdaughter.Totellthetruth,Idoubt
theywouldhavenoticedhadshecrawledintothehousewithabrokenleg.
Matilda'sbrotherMichaelwasaperfectlynormalboy,butthesister,asIsaid,was
somethingtomakeyoureyespop.Bytheageofoneandahalfherspeechwasperfectand
sheknewasmanywordsasmostgrown-ups.Theparents,insteadofapplaudingher,
calledheranoisychatterboxandtoldhersharplythatsmallgirlsshouldbeseenandnot
heard.
Bythetimeshewasthree,Matildahadtaughtherselftoreadbystudyingnewspapers


andmagazinesthatlayaroundthehouse.Attheageoffour,shecouldreadfastandwell
andshenaturallybeganhankeringafterbooks.Theonlybookinthewholeofthis
enlightenedhouseholdwassomethingcalledEasyCookingbelongingtohermother,and
whenshehadreadthisfromcovertocoverandhadlearntalltherecipesbyheart,she
decidedshewantedsomethingmoreinteresting.







"Daddy,"shesaid,"doyouthinkyoucouldbuymeabook?"
"Abook?"hesaid."Whatd'youwantaflamingbookfor?"
"Toread,Daddy."
"What'swrongwiththetelly,forheaven'ssake?We'vegotalovelytellywithatwelveinchscreenandnowyoucomeaskingforabook!You'regettingspoiled,mygirl!"
NearlyeveryweekdayafternoonMatildawasleftaloneinthehouse.Herbrother(five
yearsolderthanher)wenttoschool.Herfatherwenttoworkandhermotherwentout
playingbingoinatowneightmilesaway.MrsWormwoodwashookedonbingoand

playeditfiveafternoonsaweek.Ontheafternoonofthedaywhenherfatherhadrefused
tobuyherabook,Matildasetoutallbyherselftowalktothepubliclibraryinthevillage.
Whenshearrived,sheintroducedherselftothelibrarian,MrsPhelps.Sheaskedifshe


mightsitawhileandreadabook.MrsPhelps,slightlytakenabackatthearrivalofsucha
tinygirlunacccompaniedbyaparent,neverthelesstoldhershewasverywelcome.
"Wherearethechildren'sbooksplease?"Matildaasked.
"They'reoverthereonthoselowershelves,"MrsPhelpstoldher."Wouldyoulikeme
tohelpyoufindaniceonewithlotsofpicturesinit?"
"No,thankyou,"Matildasaid."I'msureIcanmanage."
Fromthenon,everyafternoon,assoonashermotherhadleftforbingo,Matilda
wouldtoddledowntothelibrary.Thewalktookonlytenminutesandthisallowedhertwo
glorioushourssittingquietlybyherselfinacosycornerdevouringonebookafter
another.Whenshehadreadeverysinglechildren'sbookintheplace,shestarted
wanderingroundinsearchofsomethingelse.
MrsPhelps,whohadbeenwatchingherwithfascinationforthepastfewweeks,now
gotupfromherdeskandwentovertoher."CanIhelpyou,Matilda?"sheasked.
"I'mwonderingwhattoreadnext,"Matildasaid."I'vefinishedallthechildren's
books."
"Youmeanyou'velookedatthepictures?"
"Yes,butI'vereadthebooksaswell."
MrsPhelpslookeddownatMatildafromhergreatheightandMatildalookedright
backupather.
"Ithoughtsomewereverypoor,"Matildasaid,"butotherswerelovely.IlikedThe
SecretGardenbestofall.Itwasfullofmystery.Themysteryof



theroombehindthecloseddoorandthemysteryofthegardenbehindthebigwall."

MrsPhelpswasstunned.''Exactlyhowoldareyou,Matilda?"sheasked.
"Fouryearsandthreemonths,"Matildasaid.
MrsPhelpswasmorestunnedthanever,butshehadthesensenottoshowit."What
sortofabookwouldyouliketoreadnext?"sheasked.
Matildasaid,"Iwouldlikeareallygoodonethatgrown-upsread.Afamousone.I
don'tknowanynames."
MrsPhelpslookedalongtheshelves,takinghertime.Shedidn'tquiteknowwhatto
bringout.How,sheaskedherself,doesonechooseafamousgrown-upbookforafour-


year-oldgirl?Herfirstthoughtwastopickayoungteenager'sromanceofthekindthatis
writtenforfifteen-year-oldschoolgirls,butforsomereasonshefoundherself
instinctivelywalkingpastthatparticularshelf.
"Trythis,"shesaidatlast."It'sveryfamousandverygood.Ifit'stoolongforyou,just
letmeknowandI'llfindsomethingshorterandabiteasier."
"GreatExpectations,"Matildaread,"byCharlesDickens.I'dlovetotryit."
Imustbemad,MrsPhelpstoldherself,buttoMatildashesaid,"Ofcourseyoumay
tryit."
OverthenextfewafternoonsMrsPhelpscouldhardlytakehereyesfromthesmall
girlsittingforhourafterhourinthebigarmchairatthefarendoftheroomwiththe
bookonherlap.Itwasnecessarytorestitonthelapbecauseitwastooheavyforherto
holdup,whichmeantshehadtositleaningforwardinordertoread.Andastrangesight
itwas,thistinydark-hairedpersonsittingtherewithherfeetnowhereneartouchingthe
floor,totallyabsorbedinthewonderfuladventuresofPipandoldMissHavishamandher
cobwebbedhouseandbythespellofmagicthatDickensthegreatstory-tellerhadwoven
withhiswords.Theonlymovementfromthereaderwastheliftingofthehandeverynow
andthentoturnoverapage,andMrsPhelpsalwaysfeltsadwhenthetimecameforherto
crossthefloorandsay;"It'stentofive,Matilda."
DuringthefirstweekofMatilda'svisitsMrsPhelpshadsaidtoher,"Doesyour
motherwalkyoudownhereeverydayandthentakeyouhome?"

"MymothergoestoAylesburyeveryafternoontoplaybingo,"Matildahadsaid."She
doesn'tknowIcomehere."
"Butthat'ssurelynotright,"MrsPhelpssaid."Ithinkyou'dbetteraskher."
"I'drathernot,"Matildasaid."Shedoesn'tencouragereadingbooks.Nordoesmy
father."
"Butwhatdotheyexpectyoutodoeveryafternooninanemptyhouse?"
"Justmoocharoundandwatchthetelly."
"Isee."
"Shedoesn'treallycarewhatIdo,"Matildasaidalittlesadly.
MrsPhelpswasconcernedaboutthechild'ssafetyonthewalkthroughthefairlybusy
villageHighStreetandthecrossingoftheroad,butshedecidednottointerfere.
Withinaweek,MatildahadfinishedGreatExpectationswhichinthateditioncontained
fourhundredandelevenpages."Ilovedit,"shesaidtoMrsPhelps."HasMrDickens
writtenanyothers?"
"Agreatnumber,"saidtheastoundedMrsPhelps."ShallIchooseyouanother?"
Overthenextsixmonths,underMrsPhelps's




watchfulandcompassionateeye,Matildareadthefollowingbooks:

NicholasNicklebybyCharlesDickens
OliverTwistbyCharlesDickens
JaneEyrebyCharlotteBronte
PrideandPrejudicebyJaneAusten
TessoftheD'UrbervillesbyThomasHardy
GonetoEarthbyMaryWebb
KimbyRudyardKipling
TheInvisibleManbyH.G.Wells

TheOldManandtheSeabyErnestHemingway
TheSoundandtheFurybyWilliamFaulkner
TheGrapesofWrathbyJohnSteinbeck
TheGoodCompanionsbyJ.B.Priestley
BrightonRockbyGrahamGreene
AnimalFarmbyGeorgeOrwell

ItwasaformidablelistandbynowMrsPhelpswasfilledwithwonderandexcitement,
butitwasprobablyagoodthingthatshedidnotallowherselftobecompletelycarried
awaybyitall.Almostanyoneelsewitnessingtheachievementsofthissmallchildwould


havebeentemptedtomakeagreatfussandshoutthenewsalloverthevillageand
beyond,butnotsoMrsPhelps.Shewassomeonewhomindedherownbusinessandhad
longsincediscovereditwasseldomworthwhiletointerferewithotherpeople'schildren.
"MrHemingwaysaysalotofthingsIdon'tunderstand,"Matildasaidtoher.
"Especiallyaboutmenandwomen.ButIloveditallthesame.ThewayhetellsitIfeelI
amrightthereonthespotwatchingitallhappen."
''Afinewriterwillalwaysmakeyoufeelthat,"MrsPhelpssaid."Anddon'tworry
aboutthebitsyoucan'tunderstand.Sitbackandallowthewordstowasharoundyou,like
music."
"Iwill,Iwill."
"Didyouknow",MrsPhelpssaid,"thatpubliclibrarieslikethisallowyoutoborrow
booksandtakethemhome?"
"Ididn'tknowthat,"Matildasaid."CouldIdoit?"
"Ofcourse,"MrsPhelpssaid."Whenyouhavechosenthebookyouwant,bringitto
mesoIcanmakeanoteofitandit'syoursfortwoweeks.Youcantakemorethanoneif
youwish."

Fromthenon,Matildawouldvisitthelibraryonlyonceaweekinordertotakeout
newbooksandreturntheoldones.Herownsmallbedroomnowbecameherreadingroomandthereshewouldsitandreadmostafternoons,oftenwithamugofhotchocolate
besideher.Shewasnotquitetallenoughtoreachthingsaroundthekitchen,butshekepta
smallboxintheouthousewhichshebroughtinandstoodoninordertogetwhatevershe
wanted.Mostlyitwashotchocolateshemade,warmingthemilkinasaucepanonthe
stovebeforemixingit.OccasionallyshemadeBovrilorOvaltine.Itwaspleasanttotakea
hotdrinkuptoherroomandhaveitbesideherasshesatinhersilentroomreadinginthe
emptyhouseintheafternoons.Thebookstransportedherintonewworldsandintroduced
hertoamazingpeoplewholivedexcitinglives.Shewentonolden-daysailingshipswith
JosephConrad.ShewenttoAfricawithErnestHemingwayandtoIndiawithRudyard
Kipling.ShetravelledallovertheworldwhilesittinginherlittleroominanEnglish
village.

MrWormwood,
theGreatCarDealer


Matilda'sparentsownedquiteanicehousewiththreebedroomsupstairs,whileonthe
groundfloortherewasadining-roomandaliving-roomandakitchen.Herfatherwasa
dealerinsecond-handcarsanditseemedhedidprettywellatit.
"Sawdust",hewouldsayproudly,"isoneofthegreatsecretsofmysuccess.Andit
costsmenothing.Igetitfreefromthesawmill."
"Whatdoyouuseitfor?"Matildaaskedhim.
"Ha!"thefathersaid."Wouldn'tyouliketoknow."
"Idon'tseehowsawdustcanhelpyoutosellsecond-handcars,daddy."

"That'sbecauseyou'reanignorantlittletwit,"thefathersaid.Hisspeechwasnever
verydelicatebutMatildawasusedtoit.Shealsoknewthathelikedtoboastandshewould
egghimonshamelessly.
"Youmustbeveryclevertofindauseforsomethingthatcostsnothing,"shesaid."I
wishIcoulddoit."
"Youcouldn't,"thefathersaid."You'retoostupid.ButIdon'tmindtellingyoungMike
hereaboutitseeinghe'llbejoiningmeinthebusinessoneday."IgnoringMatilda,he
turnedtohissonandsaid,"I'malwaysgladtobuyacarwhensomefoolhasbeen
crashingthegearssobadlythey'reallwornoutandrattlelikemad.Igetitcheap.Thenall
Idoismixalotofsawdustwiththeoilinthegear-boxanditrunsassweetasanut."
"Howlongwillitrunlikethatbeforeitstartsrattlingagain?"Matildaaskedhim.
"Longenoughforthebuyertogetagooddistanceaway,"thefathersaid,grinning.
"Aboutahundredmiles."
"Butthat'sdishonest,daddy,"Matildasaid."It'scheating."
"Nooneevergotrichbeinghonest,"thefathersaid."Customersaretheretobe
diddled."
MrWormwoodwasasmallratty-lookingmanwhosefrontteethstuckoutunderneath
athinrattymoustache.Helikedtowearjacketswithlargebrightly-colouredchecksand
hesportedtiesthatwereusuallyyelloworpalegreen."Nowtakemileageforinstance,"
hewenton."Anyonewho'sbuyingasecond-handcar,thefirstthinghewantstoknowis
howmanymilesit'sdone.Right?"
"Right,"thesonsaid.
"SoIbuyanolddumpthat'sgotaboutahundredandfiftythousandmilesontheclock.
Igetitcheap.Butnoone'sgoingtobuyitwithamileagelikethat,arethey?Andthese
daysyoucan'tjusttakethespeedometeroutandfiddlethenumbersbacklikeyouusedto
tenyearsago.They'vefixeditsoit'simpossibletotamperwithitunlessyou'rearuddy
watchmakerorsomething.SowhatdoIdo?Iusemybrains,laddie,that'swhatIdo."
"How?"youngMichaelasked,fascinated.Heseemedtohaveinheritedhisfather'slove
ofcrookery.
"Isitdownandsaytomyself,howcanIconvertamileagereadingofonehundredand

fiftythousandintoonlytenthousandwithouttakingthespeedometertopieces?Well,ifI
weretorunthecarbackwardsforlongenoughthenobviouslythatwoulddoit.The
numberswouldclickbackwards,wouldn'tthey?Butwho'sgoingtodriveaflamingcarin
reverseforthousandsandthousandsofmiles?Youcouldn'tdoit!"
"Ofcourseyoucouldn't,"youngMichaelsaid.
"SoIscratchmyhead,"thefathersaid."Iusemybrains.Whenyou'vebeengivena
finebrainlikeIhave,you'vegottouseit.Andallofasudden,theanswerhitsme.Itell


you,Ifeltexactlylikethatotherbrilliantfellowmusthavefeltwhenhediscovered
penicillin.'Eureka!'Icried.'I'vegotit!"'
"Whatdidyoudo,dad?"thesonaskedhim.
"Thespeedometer",MrWormwoodsaid,"isrunoffacablethatiscoupleduptoone
ofthefrontwheels.SofirstIdisconnectthecablewhereitjoinsthefrontwheel.Next,I
getoneofthosehigh-speedelectricdrillsandIcouplethatuptotheendofthecablein
suchawaythatwhenthedrillturns,itturnsthecablebackwards.Yougotmesofar?You
followingme?"
"Yes,daddy,"youngMichaelsaid.
"Thesedrillsrunatatremendousspeed,"thefathersaid,"sowhenIswitchonthedrill
themileagenumbersonthespeedospinbackwardsatafantasticrate.Icanknockfifty
thousandmilesofftheclockinafewminuteswithmyhigh-speedelectricdrill.Andby
thetimeI'vefinished,thecar'sonlydonetenthousandandit'sreadyforsale.'She'salmost
new,'Isaytothecustomer.'She'shardlydonetenthou.Belongedtoanoldladywhoonly
useditonceaweekforshopping.'"
"Canyoureallyturnthemileagebackwithanelectricdrill?"youngMichaelasked.
"I'mtellingyoutradesecrets,"thefathersaid."Sodon'tyougotalkingaboutthisto
anyoneelse.Youdon'twantmeputinjug,doyou?"
"Iwon'ttellasoul,"theboysaid."Doyoudothistomanycars,dad?"
"Everysinglecarthatcomesthroughmyhandsgetsthetreatment,"thefathersaid.
"Theyallhavetheirmileagecuttounderundertenthoubeforethey'reofferedforsale.

AndtothinkIinventedthatallbymyself,"headdedproudly."It'smademeamint."
Matilda,whohadbeenlisteningclosely,said,"Butdaddy,that'sevenmoredishonest
thanthesawdust.It'sdisgusting.You'recheatingpeoplewhotrustyou."
"Ifyoudon'tlikeitthendon'teatthefoodinthishouse,"thefathersaid."It'sbought
withtheprofits."
"It'sdirtymoney,"Matildasaid."Ihateit."
Tworedspotsappearsonthefather'scheeks."Whotheheckdoyouthinkyouare,"he
shouted,"TheArchbishopofCanterburyorsomething,preachingtomeabouthonesty?
You'rejustanignorantlittlesquirtwhohasn'tthefoggiestideawhatyou'retalkingabout!"
"Quiteright,Harry,"themothersaid.AndtoMatildashesaid,"You'vegotanerve
talkingtoyourfatherlikethat.Nowkeepyournastymouthshutsowecanallwatchthis
programmeinpeace."
Theywereintheliving-roomeatingtheirsuppersontheirkneesinfrontofthetelly.
ThesupperswereTVdinnersinfloppyaluminiumcontainerswithseparatecompartments
forthestewedmeat,




theboiledpotatoesandthepeas.MrsWormwoodsatmunchinghermealwithhereyes
gluedtotheAmericansoap-operaonthescreen.Shewasalargewomanwhosehairwas
dyedplatinumblondeexceptwhereyoucouldseethemousy-brownbitsgrowingout
fromtheroots.Sheworeheavymakeupandshehadoneofthoseunfortunatebulging
figureswherethefleshappearstobestrappedinallaroundthebodytopreventitfrom
fallingout.




"Mummy,"Matildasaid,"wouldyoumindifIatemysupperinthedining-roomsoI

couldreadmybook?"
Thefatherglancedupsharply."Iwouldmind!"hesnapped."Supperisafamily
gatheringandnooneleavesthetabletillit'sover!"
"Butwe'renotatthetable,"Matildasaid."Weneverare.We'realwayseatingoffour
kneesandwatchingthetelly.



"What'swrongwithwatchingthetelly,mayIask?"thefathersaid.Hisvoicehad
suddenlybecomesoftanddangerous.
Matildadidn'ttrustherselftoanswerhim,soshekeptquiet.Shecouldfeeltheanger
boilingupinsideher.Sheknewitwaswrongtohateherparentslikethis,butshewas
findingitveryhardnottodoso.Allthereadingshehaddonehadgivenheraviewoflife
thattheyhadneverseen.IfonlytheywouldreadalittleDickensorKiplingtheywould
soondiscovertherewasmoretolifethancheatingpeopleandwatchingtelevision.
Anotherthing.Sheresentedbeingtoldconstantlythatshewasignorantandstupid
whensheknewshewasn't.Theangerinsideherwentonboilingandboiling,andasshe
layinbedthatnightshemadeadecision.Shedecidedthateverytimeherfatherorher
motherwasbeastlytoher,shewouldgetherownbackinsomewayoranother.Asmall
victoryortwowouldhelphertotoleratetheiridiociesandwouldstopherfromgoing
crazy.Youmustrememberthatshewasstillhardlyfiveyearsoldanditisnoteasyfor
somebodyassmallasthattoscorepointsagainstanall-powerfulgrown-up.Evenso,she
wasdeterminedtohaveago.Herfather,afterwhathadhappenedinfrontofthetellythat
evening,wasfirstonherlist.





TheHat

andtheSuperglue
Thefollowingmorning,justbeforethefatherleftforhisbeastlysecond-handcar
garage,Matildaslippedintothecloakroomandgotholdofthehatheworeeachdayto
work.Shehadtostandonhertoesandreachupashighasshecouldwithawalking-stick
inordertohookthehatoffthepeg,andeventhensheonlyjustmadeit.Thehatitselfwas
oneofthoseflat-toppedpork-piejobswithajay'sfeatherstuckinthehat-bandandMr
Wormwoodwasveryproudofit.Hethoughtitgavehimarakishdaringlook,especially
whenheworeitatananglewithhisloudcheckedjacketandgreentie.
Matilda,holdingthehatinonehandandathintubeofSuperglueintheother,
proceededtosqueezealineofglueveryneatlyallroundtheinsiderimofthehat.Then
shecarefullyhookedthehatbackontothepegwiththewalking-stick.Shetimedthis
operationverycarefully,applyingthegluejustasherfatherwasgettingupfromthe
breakfasttable.
MrWormwooddidn'tnoticeanythingwhenheputthehaton,butwhenhearrivedat
thegaragehecouldn'tgetitoff.Superglueisverypowerfulstuff,sopowerfulitwilltake
yourskinoffifyoupulltoohard.MrWormwooddidn'twanttobe




scalpedsohehadtokeepthehatonhisheadthewholedaylong,evenwhenputting
sawdustingear-boxesandfiddlingthemileagesofcarswithhiselectricdrill.Inaneffort
tosaveface,headoptedacasualattitudehopingthathisstaffwouldthinkthatheactually
meanttokeephishatonalldaylongjustfortheheckofit,likegangstersdointhefilms.




Whenhegothomethateveninghestillcouldn'tgetthehatoff."Don'tbesilly,"his
wifesaid."Comehere.I'lltakeitoffforyou."

Shegavethehatasharpyank.MrWormwoodletoutayellthatrattledthewindowpanes."Ow-w-w!"hescreamed."Don'tdothat!Letgo!You'lltakehalftheskinoffmy
forehead!"
Matilda,nestlinginherusualchair,waswatchingthisperformanceovertherimof
herbookwithsomeinterest.
"What'sthematter,daddy?"shesaid."Hasyourheadsuddenlyswollenorsomething?"
Thefatherglaredathisdaughterwithdeepsuspicion,butsaidnothing.Howcouldhe?
MrsWormwoodsaidtohim,"ItmustbeSuperglue.Itcouldn'tbeanythingelse.That'll
teachyoutogoplayingroundwithnastystufflikethat.Iexpectyouweretryingtostick
anotherfeatherinyourhat."
"Ihaven'ttouchedtheflamingstuff!"MrWormwoodshouted.Heturnedandlooked
againatMatildawholookedbackathimwithlargeinnocentbrowneyes.
MrsWormwoodsaidtohim,"Youshouldreadthelabelonthetubebeforeyoustart
messingwithdangerousproducts.Alwaysfollowtheinstructionsonthelabel."
"Whatinheaven'snameareyoutalkingabout,youstupidwitch?"MrWormwood
shouted,clutchingthebrimofhishattostopanyonetryingtopullitoffagain."D'you
thinkI'msostupidI'dgluethisthingtomyheadonpurpose?"







Matildasaid,"There'saboydowntheroadwhogotsomeSuperglueonhisfinger
withoutknowingitandthenheputhisfingertohisnose."
MrWormwoodjumped."Whathappenedtohim?"hespluttered.
"Thefingergotstuckinsidehisnose,"Matildasaid,"andhehadtogoaroundlikethat
foraweek.Peoplekeptsayingtohim,'Stoppickingyournose,'andhecouldn'tdo
anythingaboutit.Helookedanawfulfool."
"Servehimright,"MrsWormwoodsaid."Heshouldn'thaveputhisfingeruptherein

thefirstplace.It'sanastyhabit.IfallchildrenhadSuperglueputontheirfingersthey'd
soonstopdoingit."
Matildasaid,"Grown-upsdoittoo,mummy.Isawyoudoingityesterdayinthe
kitchen."
"That'squiteenoughfromyou,"MrsWormwoodsaid,turningpink.
MrWormwoodhadtokeephishatonallthroughsupperinfrontofthetelevision.He
lookedridiculousandhestayedverysilent.
Whenhewentuptobedhetriedagaintogetthethingoff,andsodidhiswife,butit
wouldn'tbudge."HowamIgoingtohavemyshower?"hedemanded.
"You'lljusthavetodowithoutit,won'tyou,"hiswifetoldhim.Andlateron,asshe
watchedherskinnylittlehusbandskulkingaroundthebedroominhispurple-striped
pyjamaswithapork-piehatonhishead,shethoughthowstupidhelooked.Hardlythe
kindofmanawifedreamsabout,shetoldherself.




MrWormwooddiscoveredthattheworstthingabouthavingapermanenthatonhis
headwashavingtosleepinit.Itwasimpossibletoliecomfortablyonthepillow."Nowdo
stopfussingaround,"hiswifesaidtohimafterhehadbeentossingandturningforabout
anhour."Iexpectitwillbeloosebythemorningandthenit'llslipoffeasily."
Butitwasn'tloosebythemorninganditwouldn'tslipoff.SoMrsWormwoodtooka
pairofscissorsandcutthethingoffhishead,bitbybit,firstthetopandthenthebrim.
Wheretheinnerbandhadstucktothehairallaroundthesidesandback,shehadtochop
thehairoffrighttotheskinsothathefinishedupwithabaldwhiteringroundhishead,
likesomesortofamonk.Andinthefront,wherethebandhadstuckdirectlytothebare
skin,thereremainedawholelotofsmallpatchesofbrownleatherystuffthatnoamount
ofwashingwouldgetoff.

AtbreakfastMatildasaidtohim,"Youmusttrytogetthosebitsoffyourforehead,
daddy.Itlooksasthoughyou'vegotlittlebrowninsectscrawlingaboutalloveryou.
Peoplewillthinkyou'vegotlice."
"Bequiet!"thefathersnapped."Justkeepyournastymouthshut,willyou!"
Allinallitwasamostsatisfactoryexercise.Butitwassurelytoomuchtohopethatit
hadtaughtthefatherapermanentlesson.

TheGhost
TherewascomparativecalmintheWormwoodhouseholdforaboutaweekafterthe
Superglueepisode.TheexperiencehadclearlychastenedMrWormwoodandheseemed
temporarilytohavelosthistasteforboastingandbullying.
Thensuddenlyhestruckagain.Perhapshehadhadabaddayatthegarageandhadnot
soldenoughcrummysecond-handcars.Therearemanythingsthatmakeamanirritable
whenhearriveshomefromworkintheeveningandasensiblewifewillusuallynotice
thestorm-signalsandwillleavehimaloneuntilhesimmersdown.
WhenMrWormwoodarrivedbackfromthegaragethateveninghisfacewasasdark
asathundercloudandsomebodywasclearlyforthehigh-jumpprettysoon.Hiswife
recognisedthesignsimmediatelyandmadeherselfscarce.Hethenstrodeintothelivingroom.Matildahappenedtobecurledupinanarm-chairinthecorner,totallyabsorbedin
abook.MrWormwoodswitchedonthetelevision.Thescreenlitup.Theprogramme
blared.MrWormwoodglaredatMatilda.Shehadn'tmoved.Shehadsomehowtrained
herselfbynowtoblockherearstotheghastlysoundofthedreadedbox.Shekeptrighton
reading,andforsomereasonthisinfuriatedthefather.Perhapshisangerwas

intensifiedbecausehesawhergettingpleasurefromsomethingthatwasbeyondhis
reach.
"Don'tyoueverstopreading?"hesnappedather.
"Oh,hellodaddy,"shesaidpleasantly."Didyouhaveagoodday?"
"Whatisthistrash?"hesaid,snatchingthebookfromherhands.
"Itisn'ttrash,daddy,it'slovely.It'scalledTheRedPony.It'sbyJohnSteinbeck,an
Americanwriter.Whydon'tyoutryit?You'llloveit."
"Filth,"MrWormwoodsaid."Ifit'sbyanAmericanit'scertaintobefilth.That'sall
theywriteabout."
"Nodaddy,it'sbeautiful,honestlyitis.It'sabout..."
"Idon'twanttoknowwhatit'sabout,"MrWormwoodbarked."I'mfedupwithyour
readinganyway.Goandfindyourselfsomethingusefulto