First prize for the wors.., p.1
First Prize for the Worst Witch, page 1
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
About the Book
Accident-prone Mildred Hubble is the Worst Witch at Miss Cackle’s Academy. She’s always getting her spells wrong and landing herself in trouble. But Mildred is in the last term of Fourth Year and determined to prove that she’s not as useless as everyone thinks - could it be First Prize for the worst witch after all?
Mildred Hubble is the original Worst Witch. Her adventures began in 1974 and have been in print ever since. Hugely successful, in 2016 Mildred’s escapades with best friends Maud and Enid, were adapted for TV to much acclaim, followed by a second series in 2018. A third series has been commissioned for spring 2019.
Jill Murphy started putting books together (literally with a stapler), when she was six. The Worst Witch was first published in 1974 and this much-loved classic has been enjoyed by readers for more than 40 years. Jill Murphy also written and illustrated several award-winning picture books for younger children.
PUFFIN BOOKS
FIRST PRIZE FOR THE WORST WITCH
Jill Murphy started putting books together (literally with a stapler) when she was six. Her Worst Witch series, the first book of which was published in 1974, is hugely successful. She has also written and illustrated several award-winning picture books for younger children.
Books by Jill Murphy
THE WORST WITCH
THE WORST WITCH STRIKES AGAIN
A BAD SPELL FOR THE WORST WITCH
THE WORST WITCH ALL AT SEA
THE WORST WITCH SAVES THE DAY
THE WORST WITCH TO THE RESCUE
THE WORST WITCH AND THE WISHING STAR
DEAR HOUND
FIRST PRIZE FOR THE WORST WITCH
CHAPTER ONE
Mildred Hubble was cruising above the trees and villages, on her way to Miss Cackle’s Academy for the start of Summer Term. Like all her classmates, she was longing to get this last term over with and go up to the very top class next year, when they would be the proud wearers of the Year Five uniform to set them apart from the lower school. In fact, there was not much difference to the usual uniform, only a multi-striped tie and braid sewn round their cloaks, but Year Four couldn’t wait to be wearing it.
There seemed to be more luggage with each passing term, especially this one, Mildred reflected, as she peered down through the treetops, looking out for the usual landmarks. Apart from her bags of clothes and books, and her cat, Tabby, and tortoise, Einstein (both tucked up safely in the cat basket), there was also Star, the stray dog she had found last term. Star had proved to be such a natural acrobat that he and Mildred had won the national swimming-pool competition for Miss Cackle’s Academy. After such a triumph Mildred had been allowed to keep him as her broom-companion.
Star was perched behind Mildred, on top of a box of books, as if it was the most natural place in the world for him to sit, and every now and then he let out a volley of barks, which made Mildred feel as if he was talking to her.
‘Come on, Star!’ Mildred called back to him. ’You can sit at the front with me if you like. We’ll be flying for at least another hour – we’ve only just passed over the watermill at Greater Bustling.’
Star leapt over her shoulder in an instant, landing neatly in her lap.
‘Woof!’ he barked, giving her a joyful slurp under the chin.
‘Oh, look!’ exclaimed Mildred. ‘There’s a big striped tent down there at the edge of the village – it must be a circus! What a shame it’s so far from the school or we could have pleaded with Miss Cackle to take us there for an outing.’
As she said this, Star took a flying leap back over her shoulder and dived between the book box and the cat basket.
‘Hey!’ said Mildred. ‘What’s the matter, boy? Is it a bit too windy for you up this high? Come on – let’s fly a bit lower down.’
A blustery wind had sprung up, and the broomstick was swaying from side to side and making sudden lurches, hindered by the luggage piled on top and hanging from the back of it.
Mildred dropped down six metres, hovering evenly like a helicopter.
‘There you are,’ she said to Star. ‘That’s much better – hardly any wind at all. You can jump back if you like.’
However, to Mildred’s surprise, he didn’t move from his hideaway and no amount of cajoling, even the offer of a treat, could tempt him out.
Twenty minutes passed by and Mildred still hadn’t seen anyone from the academy. She was just beginning to wonder if she’d got the wrong day, when, to her great relief, she saw Maud flying along steadily in front of her.
‘Maud! Maudie!’ she yelled, delighted to see her best friend. ‘What a fantastic bit of luck! You’re the first Cackle-ite I’ve seen this morning.’
‘Millie!’ squealed Maud, equally thrilled.
They tried to fling their arms round each other but gave up, laughing as they clashed broomsticks and narrowly avoided falling off.
‘Concentrate, girls!’ bellowed Mildred sternly, doing an excellent impression of Miss Hardbroom, the strictest teacher in the school. ‘I don’t expect to see such silly nonsense from fourth-years!’
‘Gosh, Mildred,’ said Maud, ‘you sound scarily like her. I wonder what ghastly projects she’s lined up for us this term.’
‘Well, one thing’s for sure,’ said Mildred. ‘There’s going to be a lot of swimming!’
‘Oh yes, of course! I’d forgotten about the swimming pool,’ said Maud. ‘Do you think they’ve actually built it yet?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Mildred, ‘but I had a crash course of swimming lessons during the hols, just in case.’
‘I didn’t know you couldn’t swim,’ said Maud. ‘You managed all right when we went on holiday to Grim Cove.’
Mildred smiled. ‘I just pretended,’ she confessed. ‘I hopped along on one foot and did swimming movements – I didn’t want Ethel sneering!’
Over the years Ethel had somehow become an implacable enemy of Mildred, and never missed an opportunity to make her look small.
‘Well, no one noticed,’ said Maud.
‘And now they never will!’ said Mildred. ‘I can do ten lengths of our local pool, which is huge. The school pool will be a quarter of that size, so it should be fine.’
‘It’s going to be brilliant,’ said Maud happily. ‘Lovely, warm clear water, with sparkly blue tiles – and all thanks to Mildred Hubble and Star! Where is he, by the way? He’s too big to go in the cat basket.’
‘He’s hiding in between the luggage,’ said Mildred. ‘I don’t think he’s feeling too well. He was fine when we started out – I probably shouldn’t have given him any breakfast.’
CHAPTER TWO
On the last day of Summer Term there was a ceremony called Fourth Year Firsts, when prizes were awarded to pupils who had proved themselves best in certain subjects over the past four years. It was also the occasion when the witch chosen to be Head Girl for the coming year would be solemnly announced. This event was actually more important to the girls than the final year itself, when there would be no time for distractions, as everyone would be working madly to pass the Witches’ Higher Certificate.
‘Have you got any hopes for Fourth Year Firsts?’ asked Maud, passing Mildred a chocolate biscuit as they coasted along smoothly, cloaks and hair streaming behind them in the wind.
‘Not exactly,’ replied Mildred. ‘What about you? Tell me yours and then I’ll tell you mine.’
‘Well,’ said Maud, ‘I’m sort of average at everything, but there is a First Prize for Team Spirit, so I’m going to work on that one – you know, being extra helpful and so on. What about you?’
‘If I tell you what I’d like to get,’ confided Mildred, smiling shyly at her friend, ‘you have to promise not to laugh.’
‘Cross my heart!’ promised Maud.
‘OK then,’ said Mildred. ‘It isn’t exactly a first prize, more of an honour, but it would be the only first prize that I would want.’
‘Go on!’ urged Maud, intrigued. ‘Tell me!’
‘You mustn’t laugh!’ Mildred reminded her.
‘My word is my bond,’ said Maud, looking at Mildred with a very serious face.
‘Right,’ announced Mildred. ‘I’d like to be chosen as Head Girl for next year.’
Maud really did try to keep her serious face on, but almost immediately she erupted into such peals of laughter that she nearly fell off her broom.
‘You promised not to laugh!’ exclaimed Mildred indignantly. However, within seconds she was drawn in to Maud’s infectious and unstoppable fit of giggles, and soon the two of them were doubled over on their broomsticks, desperately trying to steer and keep their balance.
‘It isn’t that funny!’ snorted Mildred. ‘I have done quite a few good things for the school, in between disasters!’
Maud was now laughing so much that tears streamed down her cheeks and blew away in the wind. ‘Sorry, Mil!’ she howled. ‘It’s just so incredibly unlikely.’
‘Understatement of the year!’ Mildred laughed, beginning to wonder why she had ever mentioned it in the first place.
‘And anyway,’ continued Maud, between fits of mirth, ‘if there’s a Hallow in the school, it always goes to them and we’ve got Ethel Hallow –’
‘Unfortunately!’ commented Mildred.
For some reason, this observation struck them both as so utterly hilarious that they could hardly see – what with their screwed-up faces and their tears of laughter and the buffeting wind – and they suddenly realized that the treetops were alarmingly close.
‘Come on, Mil!’ said Maud, trying hard to calm down. ‘Let’s land in that nice big field down there and take a ten-minute break before we have a crash landing.’
‘Good idea, Maudie,’ agreed Mildred, explosions of laughter still erupting every few seconds. ‘I must say, there really is nothing quite like a good fit of the giggles!’
CHAPTER THREE
Ethel Hallow, an hour ahead of Mildred and Maud, was flying very fast at a high altitude, baggage jolting behind her; even her perfect cat, Nightstar, was having difficulty holding on. Ethel’s best friend, Drusilla, who was not such an accomplished flier as Ethel, was frantically trying to keep up. Ethel was in a very bad mood, remembering how Mildred Hubble had somehow managed to drag herself up from total hopelessness to become quite an exceptional pilot, with that scruffy little rescue dog as her broom-companion.
‘Please slow down, Ethel!’ yelled Drusilla, doing her best to keep the annoyance out of her voice, as it always made things worse if you tried to stand up to Ethel. ‘I’m going to fall off in a minute! We aren’t all brilliant fliers like you,’ she added, hoping that flattery might improve things.
It did. Ethel slowed to a calmer speed and they both turned round to check that their luggage was secure and to reassure their ruffled cats. Nightstar, who had a rather touchy temperament like his owner, turned his back on Ethel, stuck one leg in the air and began washing. He wasn’t the sort of cat to let on that he had been scared.
‘What is it, Eth?’ asked Drusilla. ‘You were OK five minutes ago.’
‘I was just thinking about Mildred Hubble,’ replied Ethel grumpily. ‘I mean, how on earth has she actually got through four years at Cackle’s? Every time she messes something up, I think, “Bingo! That’s got rid of her!” Then she somehow manages to make things better for herself, and now she has that ridiculous dog on her broomstick she’s actually turned into a really decent flier. If she was still with that awful cat, she’d be back to square one just like that –’ She clicked her fingers. ‘It so isn’t fair. I mean, she might even win First Prize for Best Pilot at this rate, especially now that they’ve won the swimming-pool competition together and everyone thinks they’re so perfect.’
‘Don’t get in a state about it, Ethel,’ said Drusilla soothingly. ‘You’ll definitely win First Prize for Chanting and for Potions. Mildred’s hopeless at both.’
‘I’m not in a state, thank you very much, Drusilla,’ snarled Ethel dangerously. ‘And she isn’t actually hopeless at potions any more, thanks to that animal-speaking spell she invented last year that got me into so much trouble.’
‘Ethel!’ exclaimed Drusilla before she could stop herself. ‘You really can’t blame Mildred for what happened! You did steal her spell and pretend it was yours.’
‘Look, Drusilla,’ snapped Ethel, ‘whose side are you on? Why don’t you go and team up with Mildred’s little gang of friends if you think they’re so hard done by?’
‘Sorry, Ethel,’ mumbled Drusilla miserably. ‘Of course I’m on your side – always, whatever happens. Anyway, one thing you can be sure of, you’ll definitely be announced as Head Girl for next year! If there’s a Hallow in the running, they always get elected – there have been at least thirty-five Hallow Head Girls over the centuries.’
‘Yes, at least that’s a dead cert,’ agreed Ethel moodily.
In the distance, they could see the shadowy shape of Miss Cackle’s Academy for Witches, perched on top of a mountain, half hidden among dense pine trees. Already, other pupils were visible on the horizon, struggling with their baggage and cat baskets.
‘Come on, Druse,’ said Ethel, feeling a little better at the thought of the gold Head Girl medal, pinned weightily to her multicoloured Year Five tie. ‘We’d better get a move on if we’re going to arrive before anyone else – First Prize for Perfect Punctuality as well as everything else!’
‘We hope!’ Drusilla laughed, relieved that they were friends again.
Ethel suddenly took off with such a whoosh of air that Drusilla’s hat flew off and spiralled into the trees below.
‘Hang on a mo!’ called Drusilla, but Ethel was already too far ahead to hear her. It was a very pleasant morning, Ethel reflected, as the school grew closer, turrets glinting in the early-morning sun, and the vast beech forest beginning to mingle with the dark pines that surrounded the school.
‘Nearly there, Druse,’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘Druse?’
She turned and saw her friend far behind her, desperately trying to catch up. Ethel could just make out her voice in between gusts of wind.
‘Ethel, wait!’ she was calling. ‘Please wait! I’ve found something really interesting!’
Ethel hovered impatiently.
‘Come on, Drusilla,’ she snapped. ‘What have you been doing back there? We’re going to be last at this rate.’
‘Sorry, Ethel,’ said Drusilla, juddering to an untidy halt. ‘I dropped my hat – but while I was down in the forest looking for it I found this, pinned to a tree. Take a look!’ She handed Ethel a small, faded poster.
Ethel smoothed out the poster on her lap. ‘I don’t believe it!’ she exclaimed when she saw what was on it. ‘Gosh, Druse, what an amazing bit of luck on the first day of term – especially after what we were talking about!’
‘What shall we do with it?’ asked Drusilla.
‘I think we’d better take it to Miss Cackle,’ said Ethel, a horrible smile creeping across her face. ‘I mean, it’s our duty really, isn’t it?’
CHAPTER FOUR
In the playground there was the usual mixture of teachers keeping a beady eye on the arrivals: new pupils anxiously trying to land successfully and old friends joyously reuniting.
‘Look, Maud,’ said Mildred. ‘There’s Enid!’
‘Hey, you two!’ shouted their friend, leaving her broomstick hovering and rushing to greet them with a delighted hug.
‘Quick,’ said Maud. ‘We’d better line up – they’re here!’
Miss Hardbroom and Miss Cackle had suddenly appeared, quite literally, in the middle of the playground.
Miss Hardbroom clapped her hands. ‘Line up now, girls,’ she commanded, already sounding slightly irritated, even though no one had done anything wrong. ‘Hurry along. You all know the drill.’
Everyone hastened into line, arranging their assortment of luggage and broomsticks in neat rows beside them.
‘Excellent, girls!’ Miss Cackle smiled with all the warmth that her terrifying deputy lacked. ‘Wonderful to see you all looking so cheerful and rested after your nice long holiday.’
‘Brains fully re-charged and ready for lots of hard work, I hope!’ Miss Hardbroom cut in grimly.
‘But of course, Miss Hardbroom,’ twittered Miss Cackle. ‘Now then, girls, I expect you all want to know about the swimming pool! Well, it was finished just in time for the start of term and is up and running. So I thought, as Mildred’s form won the pool for us, that they could have first dip, as it were!’
Mildred’s class let out cries of joy, and Mildred and Enid actually jumped up and down, but only for a few seconds as Miss Hardbroom shot them a glance that quenched any high spirits like a water-cannon.
