Adventures of the Wishing-Chair (21 page)

“Thank you!” cried Chinky. He shook the string reins of his goose, and he and Mollie flew up into the air once more, and went steadily westwards.

“There is a gnome who lives in a tall tower some miles westwards,” said Chinky. “It is so tall that it sticks out above the clouds. We will make for there, and see if he has seen anything of Peter and the wishing-chair.”

The geese flew on, cackling to one another. They were still in a bad temper. Chinky kept a look out for the tall tower—but Mollie saw it first. It looked very strange. It was sticking right through a big black cloud, and, as it was made of bright silver, it shone brilliantly.

There was a small window at the top. It was open. The geese flew down to the window-sill and Chinky stuck his head inside.

“Hie, gnome of the tower! Are you in?”

“Yes!” yelled a voice. “If that is the baker leave me a brown loaf, please.”

“It isn’t the baker!” shouted Chinky. “Come on up here!”

“Well, if it’s the butcher, leave me a pound of sausages!” yelled the voice.

“It isn’t the butcher!” shouted back Chinky, getting cross. “And it isn’t the milkman or the grocer or the newspaper boy or the fishmonger either!”

“And it isn’t the postman!” cried Mollie. “It’s Chinky and Mollie!”

The gnome was surprised. He climbed up the many steps of his tower till he came to the top. Then he put his head out of the window and gaped in amazement to see Mollie and Chinky on their two geese.

“Hallo!” he said. “Where do
you
come from?”

“Never mind that,” said Chinky. “We’ve come to ask you if you’ve seen a boy on a flying chair.”

“Yes,” said the gnome at once. “He passed about twenty minutes ago. I thought he was a king or something because he wore a golden crown. He was going towards the land of the Scally-Wags.”

“Oh my!” said Chinky in dismay. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” said the gnome, nodding his big head. “I thought he was the baker coming at first.”

“You think every one’s the baker!” said Chinky, and he jerked the reins of his goose. “Come on, goose! To the land of the Scally-Wags.”

The geese flew off. The gnome climbed out on the window-sill and began to polish his silver tower with a big check duster.

“Does he keep that tower polished himself?” said Mollie in surprise. “Goodness, it must keep him busy all the week!”

“It does,” said Chinky, grinning. “Because as soon as he’s done it all and reached the top, the bottom is dirty again and he has to begin all over again!”

“Chinky, you didn’t sound very pleased when you knew that Peter and the chair had gone to the Land of the Scally-Wags,” said Mollie. “Why weren’t you?”

“Well, the Scally-Wags are horrid people,” said Chinky. “You see, to that land go all the bad folk of Fairyland, Goblin-Land, Brownie-Town, Pixie-Land, Gnome-Country, and the rest. They call themselves Scally-Wags, and they are just as horrid as they sound. If Peter goes there he will be treated like a Scally-Wag, and expected to steal and tell fibs and behave very badly. And if he doesn’t, they will say he is a spy and lock him up.”

“Oh, Chinky, I do think that’s horrid,” said Mollie in dismay. “Peter will hate being in a land like that.”

“Well, don’t worry, I dare say we shall be able to rescue him all right,” said Chinky—though really he had no idea at all how to save Peter. Chinky himself had never been to the Land of Scally-Wags before!

The geese cackled and hissed. They were getting tired. Chinky hoped they would be able to go on flying till they reached Scally-Wag Land. Mollie leaned over and looked down.

“Look, Chinky,” she said. “Is that Scally-Wag Land? Do you see those houses down there—and that funny railway line—and that river with those ships on?”

“Yes,” said Chinky, “that must be Scally-Wag Land. Down, geese, and land there!”

The geese flew downwards. They landed by the river, and as soon as Chinky and Mollie had jumped off, the two geese paddled into the water and began to swim. Chinky tied their strings to a post, for he was afraid they might fly off.

A Scally-Wag ran up to him.

“Where do you come from?” he asked. “Are you messengers from anywhere?”

“No,” said Chinky. “We’ve come to look for someone who came to this land by mistake. We want to take him back.”

“No one leaves this land once they are here,” said the Scally-Wag. “I believe you are spies!”

“Indeed we are not!” said Mollie. The Scally-Wag drew a whistle from his belt and blew on it loudly. Chinky looked alarmed. He caught hold of Mollie’s hand.

“Run!” he said. “If they think we are spies they will lock us up!”

Off went the two, running at top speed, with the angry Scally-Wag after them. They didn’t know where they were going! They only knew that they must run and run!

MOLLIE and Chinky ran down the river-path, the Scally-Wag shouting after them. “Spies!” he called. “Stop them! Spies!”

Chinky dragged Mollie on and on. They were both good runners. Another Scally-Wag, hearing the first one shouting, tried to stop Chinky—but the pixie gave him a fierce push and he toppled into the river, splash! How he spluttered and shouted! That gave Chinky an idea.

He squeezed through a hedge and pulled Mollie after him. Then he lay in wait for the shouting Scally-Wag. As soon as he was through the hedge Chinky gave him a push too—and into the river he went, head-first, squealing like a rabbit! Mollie couldn’t help laughing, for he seemed all arms and legs. The water wasn’t deep, so he couldn’t drown—but dear me, how he yelled!

“Come on, Mollie,” said Chinky. “We seem to be behaving just as badly as Scally-Wags, pushing people into the river like this!”

They ran on. They seemed to run for miles. They asked every Scally-Wag they met if he had seen a little boy in that land, but nobody had. They all shook their heads and said the same thing.

“There is no little boy in this land.”

“Well, it’s really very peculiar,” said Chinky to Mollie. “He must be
somewhere
here!”

“I say, Chinky, I’m getting so hungry,” said Mollie. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, very,” said Chinky. “Let’s knock at this cottage door and see if they will give us something to eat.”

So he knocked—rat-a-tat-tat. The door opened and a sharp-eyed little goblin looked out.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“We are hungry,” said Mollie. “Could you give us anything to eat?”

“Look!” said the goblin, pointing down the lane to where a baker’s cart was standing, full of loaves. “Go and take one of the baker’s loaves. He’s gossiping somewhere. He won’t miss one!”

“But we can’t do that!” said Mollie in horror. “That’s stealing!”

“Don’t be silly,” said the goblin, looking at her out of his small, sharp eyes. “You don’t mind stealing, do you? I’ve never met a Scally-Wag who minded stealing yet!
I’ll
steal a loaf for you if you are afraid of being caught!”

He set off towards the cart, keeping close by the hedge so that he wouldn’t be seen. Mollie and Chinky stared at one another in dismay.

“Chinky, what horrible people live in this land,” said Mollie. “Stop him! We can’t let him steal like that. I would never eat any bread that had been stolen.”

“Let’s warn the baker,” said Chinky. But before they could find him, the goblin had sneaked up to the little cart and had grabbed a new loaf. Then back he scurried to Mollie and Chinky and gave them the loaf, grinning all over his face.

“I’m sorry, but we couldn’t have it,” said Chinky. “Stealing is wrong.”

“Not in Scally-Wag Land,” said the goblin, his cunning eyes twinkling.

“It’s wrong
anywhere,”
said Mollie firmly. “Come on, Chinky. We’ll put this loaf back into the cart.”

They set off to the cart—but do you know, just as they were putting the loaf back, that horrid little goblin began to shout for all he was worth. “Baker, Baker! Thieves are at your cart! Look out!”

The baker came hurrying out. He caught hold of Chinky and began to shake him. “You bad Scally-Wag!” he cried.

“I’m not a Scally-Wag! I was just putting back a loaf that the goblin stole!” cried Chinky.

“You are a fibber!” said the baker, and he shook Chinky again until his teeth rattled. Mollie ran to the rescue. She tried to catch hold of the baker’s arm— but he pushed her and sent her flying. She caught at the little cart to try and save herself—and it went over! All the loaves rolled out into the road.

The baker gave a loud yell and ran to his cart. The watching goblin shrieked with delight. Mollie and Chinky ran off as fast as they could, crying, “We’re so sorry! But it was your own fault for not believing us!”

They ran until they came to a field of buttercups. They squeezed through a gap in the hedge, and sat down to get their breath.

“I’m thirsty as well as hungry now,” said Mollie.

“Where can we get a drink? If we went and asked for a drink of water surely no Scally-Wag would want to steal that for us! Look, there’s a cottage over there, Chinky. Let’s go and ask.”

They went to the cottage, hot and thirsty and tired. A brownie woman came to the door. She was a cross-looking creature.

“I thought you were the milkman,” she said.

“No, he’s just down the road there,” said Chinky, pointing. “Please, Mam, may we have a drink of water.”

“I’ll get you a drink of milk!” said the woman, and to Chinky’s surprise she darted down the road to the milkman’s little hand-cart, and turned on the tap of the churn. The milk ran out of the tap on to the road.

“Come on!” said the woman. “Drink this!”

“But we can’t do that!” cried Mollie in surprise and disgust. “That’s stealing. Oh, do turn off the tap. The milk is all going to waste!”

The milkman could be heard coming down someone’s path, whistling. The woman ran back to her house, leaving the tap turned on. The milkman heard his milk running to waste and ran to turn off the tap, shouting angrily, “Who did this? Wait till I catch them!”

“They did it, those children did it! I saw them!” cried the brownie woman from her door. The milkman saw Chinky and Mollie standing nearby and made a dart at them. But this time they got away before they were caught. They ran down the lane and darted inside a little dark shed to hide.

“It’s too bad,” said Mollie. “These Scally-Wags keep doing horrid things and blaming them on to us. I do hate them!”

“Sh!” said Chinky. “There’s the milkman coming after us. Cover yourself in this old sack, Mollie, and I’ll do the same.”

They lay down in a corner, covered with the sacks. The milkman looked into the shed and ran on. Mollie sat up. She looked at Chinky and laughed.

“You do look dirty and hot and untidy,” she said.

“So do you,” said Chinky. “In fact, we look like proper little Scally-Wags. They all look dirty and untidy too! Now, where shall we go next! If only we could find Peter!”

They went out of the shed. The hot sun shone down on them. They felt thirstier than ever. They saw a little stream running nearby, looking cool and clear.

“What about getting a drink from that?” said Mollie.

“Well, I don’t like drinking from streams,” Chinky said. “But really, I’m dreadfully thirsty! Let’s try it. But don’t drink too much, Mollie.”