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78
The Little
House in the
Valley
‘No,’ Henry croaked, ‘please!’
But the wicked child ran forward and snatched the hat from
Henry’s head. Henry stooped lower and lower. The boy stood back
and twirled the straw hat in his hands. Abruptly he stopped and
peered inside the rim of the hat at the name written.
‘“Yvonne.” Ha! Who’s that,’ he sneered, ‘your imaginary wife?’
The boy’s malicious remark was met with loud laughter. Looking
around at his companions, the boy began to pick off the flower
petals from the hat.
‘Loves me, loves me not, loves me, loves me not... oops,’ he ripped
off a handful of the last petals, ‘looks like Yvonne your imaginary
wife doesn’t love you after all, what a shame,’ he mocked.
The boy tossed the hat onto the ground and sent more rose petals
flying through the air. Henry’s face was crumpled and he suddenly
felt overwhelming fatigue. With the group of boys watching him
closely, he slowly and painfully reached down to pick up Yvonne’s
straw hat, which had meant so much to him but which was now in a
state of ruin. His head down, the old man turned slowly back
towards his house. The spiky haired boy, who was dissatisfied with
not receiving the desired reaction for his taunting, settled on one last
spiteful act. Two hands outstretched, he took a step forward and
pushed Henry hard.
The boys ran away before they could see Henry fall towards the
ground and strike his head on Yvonne’s gravestone. Atticus tried
desperatley to stir his master, but his body lay motionless. Defeated,
the owner’s companion took the straw hat gently in his mouth and
placed it on his owner’s head and lay down softly next to him. The
old man was once again with his wife.
‘
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