Матильда
The Reader of Books
Ontheafternoonofthedaywhenherfatherhadrefusedtobuyherabook,Matildasetoutallbyherselftowalktothepubliclibraryinthevillage. Whenshearrived,sheintroducedherselftothelibrarian,Mrs.Phelps. Sheaskedifshemightsitawhileandreadabook. Mrs.Phelps,slightlytakenabackatthearrivalofsuchatinygirlunacccompaniedbyaparent,neverthelesstoldhershewasverywelcome.
"Wherearethechildren’sbooksplease? "Matildaasked. "They’reoverthereonthoselowershelves,"Mrs.Phelpstoldher. "Wouldyoulikemetohelpyoufindaniceonewithlotsofpicturesinit?"
"No,thankyou,"Matildasaid. "I’msureIcanmanage. "Fromthenon,everyafternoon,assoonashermotherhadleftforbingo,Matildawouldtoddledowntothelibrary. Thewalktookonlytenminutesandthisallowedhertwoglorioushourssittingquietlybyherselfinacosycornerdevouringonebookafteranother. Whenshehadreadeverysinglechildren’sbookintheplace,shestartedwanderingroundinsearchofsomethingelse. Mrs.Phelps,whohadbeenwatchingherwithfascinationforthepastfewweeks,nowgotupfromherdeskandwentovertoher. "CanIhelpyou,Matilda?"sheasked.
"I’mwonderingwhattoreadnext,"Matildasaid. "I’vefinishedallthechildren’sbooks."
"Youmeanyou’velookedatthepictures?"
"Yes,butI’vereadthebooksaswell."
Mrs.PhelpslookeddownatMatildafromhergreatheightandMatildalookedrightbackupather.
"Ithoughtsomewereverypoor,"Matildasaid,"butotherswerelovely."
