"Martin, Ann M - BSC029 - Mallory And The Mystery Diary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"No, you just don't get a second one yet. That's all."
"Oh." Buddy still looked disappointed.
"Try this one," I said, showing him the next card.
"Ball," said Buddy. "Simple."
"Good. Now you have two free minutes."
We worked our way through about half the deck of cards. Buddy began to slump in his chair. He sat with one hand under his chin, as if his head might drop off if he didn't support it.
"Mallory," he whined, "I hate these cards. They're stupid. Sometimes I don't know a word all by itself, but if I see it in a book with a lot of other words around it, then I can figure it out." (Well, that made sense.) "Besides, look at the piles. There's a huge one of words I didn't get right away. The other pile is short. How many free minutes did I earn?"
I counted the cards in the small pile. "Seven," I told him.
"Seven! That's nothing."
Buddy looked like he was going to cry, so
I put the cards back in their box. "I guess we've spent enough time on flash cards. Do you have any homework?"
Buddy nodded. He told me what it was.
"Then how about reading in your reading book and doing the homework pages in your workbook?"
Buddy let out a huge sigh. Then he slapped his hand to his forehead again. "Darn! I forgot my reading book. I left it downstairs, too. I'll have to go get it."
"While you're at it, get your workbook," I said slyly. I just knew Buddy would "forget" it otherwise, and have to make yet another trip downstairs.
Buddy left, took his time finding the books, but finally returned with them. He was scowling again.
I ignored the scowl. "What did you say your workbook pages are?" I asked him.
"Sixty-seven and sixty-eight."
"Okay. Open to page sixty-seven."
Buddy did so.
"Now read the instructions out loud."
"Mallory," said Buddy, "I am not Cinderella. You can't order me around."
"Buddy," I replied, "I'm not your wicked stepmother, but I am your tutor, and it would
help if you followed directions."
"Oh, brother. All right." Buddy stared at the page. Then he stared out the window for awhile. I let him.
When he didn't give any indication of going back to the workbook pages, I said. "You just used up two minutes of your free time."
"What?!" Buddy shot me a look that I'm sure he usually reserved for Mr. Moser.
"Please read the instructions."
"O-kay." Buddy paused. Then he began reading. " 'On the page . . . below . . . are Ч are puh-puh . . .' "
I think Buddy was waiting for me to tell him the word. "Sound it out," I said.
"Pars?"
"Almost."
"Oh, pairs. 'Pairs of ... wuh-words. Some . . . words ruh-ruh . . .' "
The word was "rhyme." How would he ever sound that out? "I'll give you a clue," I told Buddy. " 'All' and 'tall' are words that ..."
"Rhyme!" cried Buddy, actually sounding pleased. He returned to the directions. " 'Some words rhyme and some words . . . donut.' I mean, 'don't. Cir-circle the rhyme words.' "
"The what?" I said.
" The . . . rhymfng words/ "
"Good."
Buddy heaved another sigh and picked up his pencil as if it weighed a ton. He looked at the first pair of words, then at me, then at the words again. Maybe I was making him nervous. "I think I'll take a two-minute break," I said, "since you got one." I sat on Buddy's bed while he worked halfheartedly on the page. When I returned to the desk, Buddy had completed one column of words Ч and most of them were wrong. I made him go back, read the words to me, and do a lot of erasing. When the dreaded page was finally finished, Buddy said, "What time is it?"
"Five-fifteen," I replied.
"Five-fifteen? It's only five-fifteen?"
"Sorry," I said.
"I want to play with our video game."
"At five minutes of six you can do whatever you want."
"No fair," muttered Buddy, but he returned to his work.
What was I doing wrong? I wondered. I'd thought I would enjoy this. I'd thought Buddy would see what fun reading could be.
Nothing was going as I'd planned.
At long last I looked at my watch and said,
"Five of six, Buddy. You can stop working now."
"All right!" Buddy closed his reading book with a flourish. Then he took the books and the flash cards and stashed them under his bed Ч I guess so he wouldn't have to look at them.