The Wishing-Chair Again (19 page)

“Oh dear—I wish we could stay and see the giant looking for his castle,” said Mollie. “What a shock he's having! His prisoners all escaping, the Wishing-Chair gone—and his castle wandering away in the forest with Sleep-Alone in charge. Won't your cousin be thrilled to have such a fine place to sleep in, Chinky?”

The Wishing-Chair didn't go back to the playroom— it went to Mrs. Spells' room.

They went in to see Mrs. Spells, and told her their extraordinary adventures. To their surprise, Cinders was there and produced some excellent fruit buns that Mrs. Spells said he had just made. He really was a most remarkable cat.

Mollie glanced out of the window that looked out on the sea. “Oh, look!” she cried, “there's our ship!
The Mollie!
I wondered what would happen to her. She's come back, Mr. Spells.”

“Cinders brought her back,” said Mrs. Spells. “He knew the ship wouldn't be needed again.”

“It was a grand adventure,” said Mollie. “I was scared at times, you know—but somehow I knew everything would be all right with Mr. Spells there. Thank you, Mr. Spells, for being such a good friend.”

“Delighted,” said the enchanter. “Now it's time you went home or I shall be having your mother knocking angrily at my door, coming to fetch you!”

That made the children laugh. They went to find the Wishing-Chair, which was still in the back yard. They climbed into it with Winks and Chinky.

“Take us home, Chair!” cried Peter—and up into the air it rose, flapping its big wings—and in five minutes' time they were all back in the playroom once more.

THE Wishing-Chair seemed tired with all its adventures. It stood in its place for ten whole days and didn't grow its wings.

“We've only got a week and two days left before we go back to school,” said Mollie. “I do hope we have another adventure before we have to say goodbye to you, Chinky. Where's Winks?”

“I don't know. He was here last night, looking very mysterious,” said Chinky. “You know, the way he looks when he's up to some kind of mischief. I just hope he won't get into trouble.”

“You know he lost my doll's gloves on the last adventure? He says he dropped them into the sea,” said Mollie. “I was very sorry about that. They were nice gloves. Now his hands show up again—that awful blue colour! But I'm not going to lend him any more gloves. He's so careless.”

“I know. The things he loses!” said Chinky. “He came in without his shoes the other day, and said he'd lost them. I said 'Well, where did you take them off, Winks?' And he said he'd lost them without even taking them off. How could anyone do that?”

“Winks could,” said Peter. “If there's anything really silly or really naughty to be done, Winks can do it, I'm sure of that!”

“Sh! Here he is!” said Mollie. “Oh,
Winks
! Your hands aren't blue anymore! They're the right colour! How did you manage that?”

“Aha!” said Winks, looking mysterious.

“What do you mean—aha!” said Chinky. “We're asking you a question, and 'aha' is no answer.”

“Aha-ha-ha!” said Winks. “I've got a secret.”

“What is it?” asked Chinky at once.

“Well, it won't be a secret if I tell it,” said Winks annoyingly.

“Don't be exasperating,” said Peter. “Tell us your secret. How did you get your hands the right colour?”

“Have you been to see Mr. Spells?” said Mollie.

“No. I went to see Witch Wendle,” said Winks. “I borrowed her wand—it's got very good magic in it.”

“Do you mean to say old Witch Wendle lent you her wand?” said Chinky disbelievingly. “Why, it was only last week you told me you put her chimney pot upside down so that her smoke blew down into her kitchen. I don't believe you!”

“All right, then—but here's the wand, see?” said Winks, and he suddenly produced the wand from under his coat. It was a small, neat wand, not long and slender like Chinky's. He waved it about.

Mollie and Peter stared in surprise—and Chinky jumped up in alarm.

“WINKS! You took it without asking? I know you did. Witch Wendle would never lend her wand to you—why, look, it's absolutely
full
of magic!”

So it was. All wands glitter and shine and gleam and shimmer when they are full of magic, and this one was quite dazzling.

“I just borrowed it for a little while,” said Winks. “The witch has gone to call on her sister. She won't miss it. I'll take it back soon. I wished my hands the right colour again—wasn't I pleased when they came all right!”

“You're a very bad, naughty brownie,” said Chinky. “You ought to go back to Mister Grim's school. We should never have rescued you from there. I've a good mind to make you go back!”

“Don't you talk like that to me, or I shall lose my temper,” said Winks, crossly, and he poked the wand at Chinky.

“Stop it,” said Chinky. “You should never poke people with wands. Surely you know that? And let me tell you this—I shall talk to you how I like. You take that wand back to Witch Wendle AT ONCE!”

“I don't like you, Chinky,” said Winks, looking suddenly cross. “I shall wish for a Maggle-Mig to chase you!”

He waved his wand in the air—and goodness gracious, whatever was this extraordinary creature running in at the door?

It was rather like a small giraffe, but it had feathers, and it wore shoes on its four feet. It galloped round the room after Chinky. The children fled to a cupboard. If this was a Maggle-Mig, they didn't like it! Winks sat down on the sofa and roared with laughter. Chinky was furious.

He rushed to the toy cupboard and felt about for his wand. He waved it in the air. “Maggle-Mig, change to a Snickeroo and chase Winks!” he cried. And at once the little giraffe-like creature changed to a thing like a small crocodile with horns. It ran at Winks, who leapt off the sofa in a hurry.

“Oh, stop it, you two!” cried Peter, who didn't want to spend the morning seeing Maggle-Migs and Snickeroos chasing round their playroom—and goodness knew what other extraordinary animals would appear.

Winks waved his wand at the Snickeroo and it ran into the fireplace and completely vanished. Winks pointed the wand at Chinky.

“Horrid Chinky! Grow a long nose!”

And poor Chinky did! It was so long that he almost fell over it! Winks took hold of it and pulled it. It was such a funny sight that the children really couldn't help laughing.

Chinky hit out at Winks with his own wand. “Grow a tail!” he yelled.

And, hey presto! Winks grew a tail—one like a cow's, with a tuft at the end. It swung to and fro, and Winks looked down at it in alarm. He tried to run away from the swinging tail, but you can't leave a tail that's growing on you, of course, and the tail followed him, swinging to and fro.

“Ha, ha!” said Chinky, twisting his long nose round his waist to keep it out of his way. “A brownie with a tail!”

Winks was crying now. He picked up his wand, which he had dropped. He and Chinky hit out at each other at the same moment.

“I'll change you into a puff of smoke!” shouted Winks. “I'll change you into a horrid smell!” cried Chinky.

And then they both disappeared! Mollie and Peter stared in the utmost dismay. A little puff of green smoke blew across the room and disappeared out of the door. A horrid smell drifted about the room for a minute—a smell of bad fish—and then that went, too.

Mollie burst into tears. “Now look what's happened!” she sobbed. “We've lost both Chinky and Winks. One's just a drift of smoke, and the other's only a horrid smell. We'll never be able to play with them again.”

Peter saw that the two wands were on the floor. He picked up Chinky's and put it into the toy cupboard. Then he picked up the one Winks had taken from Witch Wendle's and looked at it. Mollie gave a cry.

“Don't meddle with it, Peter. Don't!”

“I'm not going to,” said Peter. “I'm just wondering what to do about all this. It's very serious. I think we ought to take this wand back to Witch Wendle, or else she may come hunting for it— and
I
don't want to be turned into a bad smell or a drift of smoke by an angry witch.”

This was a very alarming idea indeed. “Oh, let's take it back quickly then,” said Mollie. “And perhaps if we do she'll tell us what to do about Chinky and Winks. How shall we find the way?”

“We might ask Mr. Spells,” began Peter, and then suddenly stopped in delight. He pointed behind Mollie.

She turned and saw that the Wishing-Chair was growing its wings again! The buds on its four legs burst into feathers, and soon the big green and yellow wings were waving gently in the air.

“Oh!
What
a bit of luck!” cried Mollie. “Now we can get in the Wishing-Chair and just tell it to go to Witch Wendle's! It's sure to know the way!”

Peter went and sat in the chair and pulled Mollie down beside him. He had the witch's wand in his hand.

“Wishing-Chair, we want to go to Witch Wendle's,” he said. “Go at once!”

The chair rose into the air, and made for the door. Out it went and up into the cloudy sky. It made for an opening in the clouds and shot through it. Now the children were in the sunshine above.

They flew for a long way, and then Mollie shouted in surprise, and pointed. “Look! What's that? It's a castle in the clouds!”

Both children stared. It was a very surprising sight indeed. A big purple cloud loomed ahead, thick and gloomy. Set in its depths was what looked exactly like a castle, with towers and turrets. The chair flew straight to the cloud and stopped. It hovered just above the cloud, and the children couldn't get down.

“Go lower, chair! “ cried Peter. But the chair didn't. A head popped out of a window of the castle.

“Wait! I'll get you cloud-shoes! If you walk on the cloud without them you'll fall.”

The head disappeared. Then out of the castle came Witch Wendle, a bright star glinting at the top of her pointed hat. She carried what looked like snowshoes, big flat things, to fasten to their feet.

“Here you are!” she said. “Put these on your feet and you will be able to walk easily on the clouds. That's why your Wishing-Chair wouldn't land—it knew it would be dangerous for you without cloud shoes.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Mollie. She liked Witch Wendle very much, because her face smiled and her eyes twinkled. The children put on the cloud-shoes and then stepped down on the cloud. Ah, they could get along quite well now—it felt rather as if they were sliding on very, very soft snow.