Adventures of the Wishing-Chair (2 page)

“We wanted to buy this vase,” said Peter, frightened.

“Well, seeing you are here, you can help Tippit to catch the fox,” said the tall man, twisting his beard up into a knot and tying it under his chin. “Come on!”

“I don’t want to,” said Mollie. “He might bite me. Unlock the door and let us go out.”

“Not till the fox and all the butterflies are caught and put into their boxes again,” said the tall man.

Oh dear!” said Peter, making no movement to get out of the chair, in which he and Mollie were still sitting with their legs drawn up. “I do wish we were safely at home!”

And then the most extraordinary thing of all happened! The chair they were in began to creak and groan, and suddenly it rose up in the air, with the two children in it I They held tight, wondering whatever was happening! It flew to the door, but that was shut. It flew to the window, but that was shut too.

Meantime the wizard and Tippit were running after it, crying out in rage. “How dare you use our wishing-chair! Wish it back, wish it back!”

“I shan’t!” cried Peter. “Go on, wishing-chair, take us home!”

The chair finding that it could not get out of the door or the window, flew up the little stairway. It nearly got stuck in the doorway at the top, which was rather narrow, but just managed to squeeze itself through. Before the children could see what the room upstairs was like, the chair flew to the window there, which was open, and out it went into the street. It immediately rose up very high indeed, far beyond the housetops, and flew towards the children’s home. How amazed they were! And how tightly they clung to the arms! It would be dreadful to fall!

“I say, Mollie, can you hear a flapping noise?” said Peter. “Has the chair got wings anywhere?”

Mollie peeped cautiously over the edge of the chair. “Yes!” she said. “It has a little red wing growing out of each leg, and they make the flapping noise! How queer!”

The chair began to fly downwards. The children saw that they were just over their garden.

“Go to our playroom, chair,” said Peter quickly. The chair went to a big shed at the bottom of the garden. Inside was a playroom for the children, and here they kept all their toys and books, and could play any game they liked. The chair flew in at the open door and came to rest on the floor. The children jumped off and looked at one another.

“The first real adventure we’ve ever had in our lives!” said Mollie, in delight. “Oh, Peter, to think we’ve got a magic chair—a wishing-chair!”

“Well, it isn’t really ours,” said Peter, putting the swan vase carefully down on the table. “Perhaps we had better send it back to that shop.”

“I suppose we had,” said Mollie sadly. “It would be so lovely if we could keep it!”

“Go back to your shop, chair,” commanded Peter. The chair didn’t move an inch! Peter spoke to it again. Still the chair wouldn’t move! There it was and there it stayed. And suddenly the children noticed that its little red wings had gone from the legs! It looked just an
ordinary
chair now!

“See, Mollie! The chair hasn’t any wings!” cried Peter. “It can’t fly. I expect it is only when it grows wings that it can fly. It must just have grown them when we were sitting in it in the shop. What luck for us!”

“Peter! Let’s wait till the chair has grown wings again, and then get in it and see where it goes!” said Mollie, her face red with excitement. “Oh, do let’s!”

“Well, it might take us anywhere!” said Peter doubtfully. “Still, we’ve always wanted adventures, Mollie, haven’t we? So we’ll try! The very next time our wishing-chair grows wings, we’ll sit in it and fly off again!”

“Hurrah!” said Mollie. “I hope it will be tomorrow!”

EACH day Mollie and Peter ran down to their playroom in the garden, and looked at their wishing-chair to see if it had grown wings again. But each time they were disappointed. It hadn’t.

“It may grow them in the night,” said Peter. “But we can’t possibly keep coming here in the dark to see. We must just be patient.”

Sometimes the children sat in the chair and wished themselves away, but nothing happened at all. It was really very disappointing.

And then one day the chair grew its wings again. It was a Saturday afternoon, too, which was very jolly, as the children were not at school. They ran down to the playroom and opened the door, and the very first thing they saw was that the chair had grown wings! They couldn’t help seeing this, because the chair was flapping its wings about as if it was going to fly off!

Quick! Quick!” shouted Peter, dragging Mollie to the chair. “Jump in. It’s going to fly!”

They were just in time! The chair rose up in the air, flapping its wings strongly, and made for the door. Out it went and rose high into the air at once. The children clung on tightly in the greatest delight.

“Where do you suppose it is going?” asked Peter.

“Goodness knows!” said Mollie. “Let it take us wherever it wants to! It will be exciting, anyhow. If it goes back to that funny shop, we can easily jump off and run away when it goes in at the door.”

But the chair didn’t go to the old shop. Instead it kept on steadily towards the west, where the sun was beginning to sink. By and by a high mountain rose up below, and the children looked down at it in astonishment. On the top was an enormous castle.

“Where’s this, I wonder?” said Peter. “Oh, I say, Mollie, the chair is going down to the castle!”

Down it went, flapping its rose-red wings. Soon it came to the castle roof, and instead of going lower and finding a door or a window, the chair found a nice flat piece of roof and settled down there with a sigh, as if it were quite tired out!

“Come on, Mollie! Let’s explore!” said Peter excitedly. He jumped off the chair and ran to a flight of enormous steps that led down to the inside of the castle. He peeped down. No one was about.

“This is the biggest castle I ever saw,” said Peter. “I wonder who lives here. Let’s go and see!”

They went down the steps, and came to a big staircase leading from a landing. On every side were massive doors, bolted on the outside.

“I hope there are no prisoners inside!” said Mollie, half afraid.

The stairs suddenly ended in a great hall. The children stood and looked in astonishment. Sitting at an enormous table was a giant as big as six men. His eyes were on a book, and he was trying to add up figures.

“Three times seven, three times seven, three times seven!” he muttered to himself. “I never can remember. Where’s that miserable little pixie? If he doesn’t know, I’ll turn him into a black-beetle!” The giant lifted up his head and shouted so loudly that both children put their hands over their ears. “Chinky! Chinky!”

A pixie, not quite so big as the children, came running out of what looked like a scullery. He held an enormous boot in one hand, and a very small boot-brush in the other.

“Stop cleaning my boots and listen to me!” ordered the giant. “I can’t do my sums again. I’m adding up all I spent last week and it won’t come right. What are three times seven?”

“Three times seven?” said the pixie, with a frightened look on his little pointed face.

“That’s what I said,” thundered the bad-tempered giant.

“I know they are the same as seven times three,” said the pixie.

“Well, I don’t know what seven times three are either!” roared the giant. “
You
tell me! What’s the good of having a servant who doesn’t know his tables? Quick—what are three times seven?”

“I d—d—d—don’t know!” stammered the poor pixie.

“Then I’ll lock you into the top room of the castle till you
do
know!” cried the giant, in a rage. He picked up the pixie and went to the stairs. Then he saw the children standing there, and he stopped in astonishment.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he asked.

“We’ve just come on a flying visit,” said Peter boldly. “
We
know what three times seven are—and seven times three too. So, if you let that pixie go, we’ll tell you.”

“You tell me, then, you clever children!” cried the giant, delighted.

“They are twenty-one,” said Peter.

The giant, still holding the pixie tightly in his hand, went across to the table and added up some figures.

“Yes—twenty-one,” he said. “Now why didn’t I think of that? Good!”

“Let the pixie go,” begged Mollie.

“Oh no!” said the giant, with a wicked grin. “He shall be shut up in the top room of my castle, and
you
shall be my servants instead, and help me to add up my sums! Come along with me whilst I shut up Chinky.”

He pushed the two angry children in front of him and made them go all the way up the stairs until they came to the topmost door. The giant unbolted it and pushed the weeping pixie inside. Then he bolted it again and locked it.

“Quick!” whispered Peter to Mollie. “Let’s race up these steps to the roof and get on to our magic chair.”

So, whilst the giant was locking the door, the two of them shot up the steps to the roof. The giant didn’t try to stop them. He stood and roared with laughter.