The Wishing-Chair Again (12 page)

BOOK: The Wishing-Chair Again
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Mother's voice was heard calling down the garden. “Children! It's past tea-time—and you didn't come in to dinner either. Where are you?”

“Oh, dear—now we shall have to go,” said Mollie. “And we haven't planned anything. Chinky, come and tell us AT ONCE if the chair grows its wings again— and do, do try to think of a good plan.”

“Come and see me again tonight if you can,” called Chinky. “I may have a visitor here who will help us.”

Mother called again, rather impatiently. The children fled. Fortunately, Mother seemed to think they had had a picnic lunch down in the playroom, and as she had been very busy with her visitors, and was tired, she didn't ask any difficult questions.

“I was sorry to send you out of the room this morning,” she said. “Especially as I expect you were not really naughty, but just nervous, and so dropped the biscuits and the coffee. Never mind—I expect you were glad not to have to stay with my visitors!”

“We were rather,” said Mollie, honestly, “and I expect
you
were glad we kept out of your way today, Mother, really.”

“Now have your tea,” said Mother. “The visitors had theirs and went, and I thought you'd probably like to finish up all the sandwiches and cakes. They're very nice.”

They were! The children had a good time eating up the bits and pieces that were left. They wished that Chinky was with them. He had had to go without his dinner at Mister Grim's school, so he must be very, very hungry. Perhaps he would go out to tea with one of his pixie friends in the garden, and have a very good meal.

“Now, Daddy and I are going out tonight,” said Mother, when they had finished. “Put yourselves to bed at the right time, half an hour after your supper, and don't lie awake waiting for us, because we shall be very late.”

“Right, Mother,” said Peter, at once making up his mind to go down to the playroom after his supper, just before they went to bed. Chinky's visitor might be there, and it would be fun to see him. Chinky's visitors were always interesting, and sometimes very exciting.

Mother put on her lovely evening frock, and then she and Daddy said goodbye and went. The children did some jobs that Mother had asked them to do, and then found that it was supper-time. Jane brought them in bananas cut into small slices, scattered with sugar, and covered with creamy milk.

“Oooh!” said Mollie. “This is one of my favourite suppers.”

“Well, you can have a second helping if you want it,” said Jane. “There's plenty.”

So they each had second helpings, and then, feeling rather full of banana, they slipped down to the playroom. Chinky wasn't there. There was a note left on the table, though.

‘Gone to have supper with Tickles. Felt very hungry after having no dinner. Be back later. Can you come and meet my visitor at half-past nine if you're not asleep? VERY IMPORTANT.

Love from Chinky.’

“We'll have to come,” said Mollie. “I know, Peter—let's go to bed now, before our bed-time—then we can slip out for half an hour and meet Chinky's visitor without feeling guilty. We simply must meet him if it's important.”

So, much to Jane's surprise, they put themselves to bed half an hour earlier than usual, and called good night to her and to each other.

“What good children they are!” said Jane to herself. “No trouble at all! Always off to that playroom of theirs, never in anyone's way, happy as the day is long!”

She didn't know there was a pixie and a Wishing-Chair in that playroom. Why, anyone would be happy as the day is long with those two things in their playroom!

Both children went to sleep—but Peter awoke at half-past nine because he had set the alarm-clock for that time and put it under his pillow. When the alarm went off, muffled by the pillow, he awoke at once. He slipped on his dressing-gown and went to wake Mollie.

“Come on!” he whispered. “It's half-past nine. Buck up!”

Mollie put on her dressing-gown, too, and the two of them slipped out of the garden door and down to the playroom. They peeped in at the door. Yes—Chinky's visitor was there—but, dear me, what a very, very surprising one!

Mister Blacky's Strange Army

CHINKY saw the children peeping in. He got up from the sofa and called them. “Hallo! I'm so glad you've come. Come along in. I've got an old friend here, and I want you to meet him.”

The old friend stood up—and what do you think he was? He was a tall golliwog, so old that his black hair had turned grey! His face was still black, though, and his eyes were bright and shining. He was not as tall as they were, but a bit taller than Chinky.

“This is Mister Blacky, the ruler of Golliwog Village,” said Chinky. The golliwog bowed politely, and shook hands with his black paw. The children looked at him, thrilled. How strange to see a golliwog so old that his black hair had turned grey! Everyone sat down, the children and Chinky on the sofa and the golliwog in the Wishing-Chair.

“I hope you don't mind my sitting in your Wishing-Chair,” he said, politely, to the children. “But it is really such a treat and a privilege. I have never even
seen
one before.”

“Not at all. We're very pleased,” said Peter. “I only wish it would grow its wings, then it could take you for a short ride. It feels funny at first, but it's lovely when you get used to it.”

“I've been telling Mister Blacky about your toys that Mister Grim has got, and won't give you back,” said Chinky. “He is most upset about it.”

“I think Mister Grim should be forced to give them up to you,” said Mister Blacky earnestly. “Your doll, Rosebud, must be very unhappy to be away from you so long. I propose that I raise a little army from Toyland and march on the school.”

Peter and Mollie gazed at him in wonder and astonishment. It all sounded like a dream to them—but a very exciting and interesting dream. An army from Toyland! Good gracious—whoever heard of such a thing?

“Mister Blacky has very great influence in Toyland,” explained Chinky. “As I told you, he is head of Golliwog Village and very much respected and admired. In fact, he has now ruled over it for nearly a hundred years.”

“Are you really a hundred years old?” asked Mollie, amazed.

“One hundred and fifty-three, to be exact,” said Mister Blacky, with a polite little bow. “I became head when I was fifty-four.”

“Is it difficult to be head of Golliwog Village?” asked Peter.

“Well, no—not really, so long as you are very firm with the
young
golliwogs,” said Mister Blacky. “They are rather wild, you know.”

This was news to the children. They looked round at their own golliwog. Was
he
young and wild? He sat up on the shelf, looking rather thrilled. Did he know that the head of Golliwog Village was there tonight?

“Now, what I suggest is this,” said Mister Blacky.

“I will send to the wooden soldiers, the clockwork animals and the sailor dolls —and also my golliwogs, of course, and tell them to meet me at a certain place. They will make a very fine army.”

“And you'll march on the school, I suppose?” said Chinky. “And when you have defeated Mister Grim you will rescue Rosebud, the doll, and the other toys?”

“Exactly,” said Mister Blacky.

“Can we come, too?” said Peter, excited. “I'd simply love to see all this.”

“If only the Wishing-Chair would grow its wings when your army is on the march, we could hover above the battle and watch,” said Mollie.

“But it never does grow its wings exactly when we want it to.”

“I'll send you word when we mean to march,” said the Golliwog. “It will probably be tomorrow evening. Well, I must go now. Thank you for a very pleasant evening, Mister Chinky.”

It seemed very funny to hear Chinky being called “Mister.” The children thought they had never seen anyone quite so well-mannered as this old grey-haired golliwog. He shook hands with all three of them and went out of the door.

“Isn't he nice?” said Chinky. “He's a very old friend of my Great-Aunt Quick-Fingers, you know, and I've often met him at her house. I thought I'd tell him about Rosebud and the other toys, and how Mister Grim wouldn't give them back. I guessed he would help.”

The playroom clock struck ten. “We must get back,” said Mollie, with a sigh. “We only meant to come for half an hour. It's been lovely, Chinky. I do think we're lucky, having you for a friend, and meeting all
your
friends and having such an interesting time.”

They went back to bed, hoping that the Wishing-Chair would grow its wings the next night if the golliwog gathered together his curious little army.

They couldn't go down to the playroom till after tea, because Mother took them to see their Granny. They raced down as soon as they could and were met by a very excited Chinky.

“I'm so glad you've come. The Wishing-Chair has grown little buds of wings already—they'll sprout properly in a minute! And the golliwog has sent to say that his army is on the march!”

“Oh—
what
a bit of luck!” cried the children, and ran to the chair. Just as they got to it the knob-like buds on its legs burst open—and out spread the lovely green and yellow wings again! They began to flap at once and made quite a wind.

“Come on” said Peter, sitting in the chair. “Let's go! And, Chinky, don't let's forget to take Winks away from that horrid school, if we can. He can live with you here in the playroom if he hasn't got a home to go to.”

Mollie got in and Chinky sat on the back of the chair. Out of the door they flew at top speed. The gardener, who was working late that evening, felt a wind just by his head and looked up. But the chair was gone.

“Some big bird flew near me,” he said to himself, puzzled.

The Wishing-Chair was told to go to Mister Grim's. “But
don't
go down into the grounds,” commanded Chinky. “Just hover about somewhere so that we can see what's going on, and can dart down if we need to.”

It wasn't really very long before the chair was hovering over the front gate of Mister Grim's school. Not far off were all the brownies, marching up and down in the big school yard, doing drill with Mister Grim.

“Left, right, left, right,” they heard him say. Then he shouted. “Hey, you, Winks, you're out of step. No supper for you!”

BOOK: The Wishing-Chair Again
5.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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