Adventures of the Wishing-Chair (18 page)

“Oh Chinky, Chinky, you
are
clever!” cried Mollie, in delight. “Peter, go down to the cellar and call Harriet. She may be somewhere about. If not, her auntie will surely be there!”

So Peter hurried down to the cellar and called Harriet. She wasn’t there, but her auntie came—the brown mouse with spectacles on. Peter told her all that had happened, and begged her to go and tell Dimple, the elf. She hurried off at once, and Peter waited anxiously to see what would happen next.

But Clip-clap came back before anything else had happened. He set the three to work polishing his magic wands—but took the magic out of them first! He wasn’t going to have Chinky doing any magic with them, not he!

After tea Clip-clap went out again, and Peter hurried down to the cellar. To his great delight he found Harriet there—and just inside the mouse-hole she had their wishing-chair! It was as small as a doll’s house chair.

“My auntie told me all that had happened,” whispered Harriet. “I told Dimple, my mistress, and we found the wishing-chair. Dimple made it small enough for me to take down the mouse-hole. Here it is. Good luck!”

She pushed the tiny wishing-chair out of the hole. Peter picked it up gladly and ran up the cellar-steps with it. How glad Chinky and Mollie were to see it!

“Now,” said Chinky, “I must make it big again.” He felt in his pockets and took out a duster coloured yellow and green. It had a queer-smelling polish in the middle in a great smear. Chinky began to polish the chair.

As he polished it, it grew bigger—and bigger—and bigger! The children watched in amazement.

At last it was its usual size. “Where shall we hide it?” asked Mollie.

“I say! Don’t let’s hide it anywhere!” said Peter suddenly. “What about us all getting into it, and waiting till Clip-clap comes back? Then, as soon as he opens the door to come in, we’ll yell to the chair to fly out—and off we’ll go! The enchanter won’t know what’s happening till it’s too late to stop us!”

“That’s a splendid idea!” said Chinky, at once. “We’ll do it. Come on—get in, you two—the enchanter may be in at any moment! We must be ready!”

“The good old wishing-chair still has its wings,” said Mollie, thankfully. “Wouldn’t it be awful if they went, and we couldn’t fly away?”

“Don’t say things like that in front of the chair,” said Peter. “You know how silly it can be sometimes. Have you forgotten the time it landed us all into a chimney?”

“‘Sh!” said Chinky. “I can hear Clip-clap coming.”

Crash! The tower split in two, and a great door appeared in the slit. It opened—and in strode Clip-clap, calling Chinky. “Hi, Chinky, Chinky!”

“Home, wishing-chair, home!” yelled Chinky. “Hallo, Clip-clap—here I am!”

The chair rose up into the air, flew past the left ear of the astonished enchanter and shot out of the door before Clip-clap could shut it! They were safely out in the wood again!

“There’s Dimple and Harriet below, waving like mad!” said Peter. “Wave back, you two!”

They all waved to Dimple and Harriet and called goodbye. “We’ll send them a postcard when we get back,” said Chinky. “They were very good to help us.”

“Won’t Clip-clap be angry to think we’ve escaped after all!” said Mollie.

“I say! Oughtn’t you to go and tell your mother you are safe?” said Peter. “She was very worried about you.”

“I’ll go tonight when you are both in bed,” said Chinky. “I’ll take you home safely first. My, what adventures we’ve had since this morning!”

“I’m not going to quarrel ever again,” said Mollie, as the chair flew in at the playroom door. She jumped off and flung her arms round Chinky. “It was horrid when you didn’t come back. I didn’t mean what I said. You will always be our friend, won’t you, Chinky?”

“Of course,” said Chinky, grinning all over his cheeky pixie face. “I would have come back the next day. I was just in a bad temper. We all were.”

“I’m sorry about it, too,” said Peter. “Anyway, we’re all together again, friends as much as before.”

“You’d better run in and show your mother you’re all right,” said Chinky. “Mothers are such worriers, you know. You’ve not been in to tea, so yours will wonder if you’re all right. Goodbye! Thanks so much for rescuing me.”

Peter and Mollie ran off happily. Thank goodness everything was all right again! Good old wishing-chair—what
would
they do without it?

ONE day, when Mollie and Peter were playing with Chinky in the playroom, they heard footsteps running down the garden.

“Quick! Hide, Chinky! There is someone coming!” cried Mollie. The pixie always hid when anyone was about. He ran to a cupboard and got inside. Peter shut the door just as Mother came into the playroom.

“Children!” she said, “I’ve lost my ring! I must have dropped it in the garden somewhere. Please look for it, and see if you can find it. It is a very valuable ring.”

Peter and Mollie were upset. They knew that their mother was very fond of her best ring. It was a very pretty one, set with diamonds and rubies. They ran out into the garden and began to hunt—but no matter where they looked they could see no sign of any ring!

“Let’s go and ask Chinky to help,” said Mollie. So they ran back to the playroom. Chinky had got out of the cupboard and was sitting reading. They told him how they had hunted and hunted for the ring.

“I’ll soon find out if it’s in the garden,” he said, shutting his book. “Is your mother certain she dropped it there?”

“Quite certain,” said Peter. “How are you going to find out where it is, Chinky?”

“You’ll see in a minute!” said the pixie, with a grin. He went to the door of the playroom and looked round. There was no one about. He whistled softly a strange little twittering tune. A freckled thrush flew down to his hand and stood on his outstretched fingers.

“Listen, Freckles,” said Chinky. “There is a ring lost in this garden. Get all the birds together and tell them to hunt for it.”

Freckles gave a chirrup and flew off. In a few minutes all the birds in the garden were gathered together in a thick lilac bush. Mollie and Peter could hear the thrush singing away, just as if he were telling a story in a song. They knew he must be telling the birds what to do.

In a few seconds every sparrow, starling, thrush, blackbird, robin, and finch was hopping about the ground, under bushes and in the beds, under the hedges and over the grass. They pecked here and there, they turned over every leaf, and they hunted for that ring as neither Mollie nor Peter could possibly have hunted.

At last Freckles the thrush came back. He flew down on to Chinky’s shoulder and chirruped a long and pretty song into his ear. Then he flew off.

“What does he say?” asked Mollie.

“He says that your mother’s ring is nowhere here at all,” said Chinky. “She can’t have dropped it in the garden.”

“But she knows she
did,”
said Mollie. “Really she does, Chinky.”

“Well, someone must have found it already, then,” said Chinky. “I wonder if any goblin was about last night! They are not honest if they find any beautiful jewel. Wait! I’ll find out!”

He went to the lawn near the playroom. It was well hidden from the house, so he could not be seen. He drew a ring on the grass in blue chalk.

“Keep away from this ring,” he said to the watching children. “When I say the goblin spell, you will see blue flames and smoke come up from the ring—if goblins have been this way during the last few hours. Don’t go too near. If nothing happens we shall know that no goblins have been this way.”

Mollie and Peter watched whilst Chinky danced slowly round the ring, chanting a string of curious, magic-sounding words.

“Look! Look! Smoke is coming — and blue flames!” shrieked Mollie excitedly. “Oh, Chinky, don’t go too near!”

Sure enough, as they watched, the ring began to smoke as if it were on fire, and small blue flames flickered all around. Chinky stopped singing. He threw a pinch of dust over the ring. Smoke, flames, and chalk ring vanished as if they had never been there!

“Yes,” said Chinky, “a goblin has been here all right! When a blue chalk ring flames like that it’s a sure sign of goblins. I wonder which one it was. I’ll just go and ask the fairies at the bottom of the garden— they’ll know.”

He ran off. The children didn’t follow, for they knew that Chinky didn’t like them to see the fairies, who were very shy. He came back, running fast, his face red with excitement.

“Yes—the fairies saw Big-Ears the goblin pass by here last night—so he must have found the ring and taken it. They said that he seemed very pleased about something.”

“Oh dear! How can we get it back for Mother?” asked Mollie in despair.

“We’ll get it back all right. Don’t worry,” said Chinky. “As soon as the wishing-chair grows its wings again we’ll go off to old Big-Ears. He’ll soon give it back. He’s an old coward.”

“Good!” said the children in delight. “Oh, won’t it be fun to have an adventure again! Where does Big-Ears live?”

“Not very far away,” said Chinky. “In Goblin Town. Listen — there’s your dinner-bell. You go in to dinner and I’ll see if I can get the wishing-chair to grow its wings again. Sometimes a little singing helps it.”

The children ran indoors, bubbling with excitement. What fun if the chair grew its wings that afternoon.

After dinner they ran back to their playroom. Chinky met them at the door with a grin.

“The chair’s grown its wings!” he said. “It is in a great hurry to get away, so come on!”

Peter and Mollie ran into the playroom. The wishing-chair certainly seemed in a great hurry to go. Its wings were flapping merrily, and it was giving little hops about the floor.

“It thinks it’s a bird or something!” said Chinky, grinning. “It will twitter soon!”

The children sat down on the seat. Chinky climbed on to the back. “To Goblin Town!” he cried.

The chair rose into the air and flew out of the door with such a rush that the children were nearly thrown out of their seats.

“Steady, chair, steady!” said Chinky. “There’s not such a dreadful hurry, you know.”

The chair flew high, and its red wings flapped strongly. It was so high in the air that the children were above the clouds, and could see nothing below them but the rolling white mist, like a great dazzling snowfield.

“Where are we now?” asked Mollie, peering down. “Are we getting near Goblin Town?”

“We must be,” said Chinky. “But we shan’t know till the chair dives down through the clouds again. Ah! Here we go!”

Down went the chair through the cold white clouds. The children looked to see if Goblin Town was below.

“Look at those funny, crooked little houses!” cried Mollie in delight. “And look at the goblins! Oh, it’s a market, or something!”

The chair flew down to a busy market-place. The goblins crowded round it in surprise.

“Good afternoon,” said Chinky, getting down from the back of the chair. “Can you tell me where Big-Ears lives?”

“He lives in the yellow cottage at the foot of the hill,” said a little green goblin, pointing. The children carried the chair down the hill, for it had stopped flapping its wings and seemed tired. They came to the yellow cottage, and Chinky knocked loudly.