Adventures of the Wishing-Chair (6 page)

“I wish I’d been there!” he said. “Come on, now—what about a game of ludo?”

MOLLIE! Peter! Come quickly! The chair is growing its wings again!” whispered Chinky, peeping in at the dining-room window. The children were busy drawing and painting, but they at once put away their things and scampered down the garden to their playroom.

“Goody!” cried Peter, as he saw the red wings of the chair slowly flapping to and fro. “Come on, every one. Where shall we go to this time?”

“We’ll let the chair take us where it wants to,” said Chinky, sitting on the top of the back as usual. “Off we go—and mind you don’t get worried if I fall off, Mollie!”

“Oh, I shan’t worry any more!” laughed Mollie. “You can look after yourself all right, Chinky!”

Off they went into the air.

“Where’s the chair going, Chinky?” asked Mollie, presently.

“I think it’s going to the Land of Dreams,” said Chinky. “Oh! I don’t know that I like that! Strange things happen there! Perhaps we’d better not go!”

“Oh, do let’s!” said Peter. “
We’ll
be all right!”

Down to the Land of Dreams flew the chair and came to rest outside a small sweet shop. Peter felt in his pocket and found a penny there. “I’ll buy some toffee!” he cried. He went into the shop, and saw a large old sheep sitting there, knitting. He stared at her in surprise and then asked for a pennyworth of toffee. She gave him some in a bag and he ran out. He opened the bag and offered the toffee to the others.

But when they tried to take some they found that the bag was full of green peas! How extraordinary!

“I told you strange things happened here,” said Chinky. “Come on. Let’s carry the chair in case it runs away or something!” He turned to pick it up, and gave a shout!

It had turned into a little dog, and its red wings were now red ribbons round the dog’s neck!

“I say! Look at that! What are we going to do now?” said Chinky in dismay. They all stared at the dog, which wagged its tail hard.

Suddenly there came an angry shout behind them.

“Spot! Spot! Come here, sir!”

The children turned and saw a clown running down the road, calling to the dog.

“Quick! We must run off with the dog before the clown gets it,” said Chinky. “It may change back into a chair again at any moment, and we can’t let anyone else have it.”

He caught up the surprised dog, and the three of them raced down the street at top speed.

“Stop thief, stop thief!” shouted the clown, and ran after them. He caught them up and took hold of Chinky. To the children’s amazement the clown then turned into a large fat policeman!

“I arrest you for stealing a dog!” said the policeman solemnly. Chinky stared at him in despair. But Mollie cried out loudly: “What do you mean, policeman? We haven’t any dog!”

And sure enough the dog had changed into a yellow duck! There it was, under Chinky’s arm, quacking away for all it was worth! The policeman stared at it, looked very blue, and in a trice had changed into a blue motor-van that trundled itself down the street!

“I don’t like this land,” said Mollie. “Things are never the same two minutes running!”

“Nor are they in dreams!” said Chinky. “You can’t expect anything else here.
I
didn’t want to come, you know. I say, won’t one of you carry this duck? It’s awfully heavy.”

He handed it to Peter, a great yellow bird—but even as Peter took it, something strange happened! The bird’s beak, legs, and tail disappeared, and all that was left was a great pile of yellow stuff that slithered about in Peter’s hands!

“Ow!” he cried, “It’s cold! It’s ice-cream! I can’t hold it!”

“You must, you must!” shouted Chinky, and he and Mollie did their best to hold the slippery mass together. But it was no good—it slithered to the ground and began to melt!

“There goes our chair!” said Chinky sorrowfully. “It looks as if we were here for ever now! First it turned into a dog, then into a duck, and now into ice-cream! This is a horrid adventure!”

They left the melting ice-cream and went on down the street. Peter took out his bag of green peas and looked at them again. They had turned into tiny balloons, ready to be blown up. He gave one to Chinky and one to Mollie. They began to blow them up—but, oh dear, dear, dear! instead of blowing up the balloons, they blew themselves up! Yes, they really did! Peter stared in dismay, but he couldn’t stop them! There they were, Mollie and Chinky, two big balloons swaying about in the air—and they even had strings tied to them! Peter was afraid they might blow away, so he took hold of the strings.

He wandered down the street alone, very puzzled and unhappy. Nothing seemed real. The Land of Dreams was very peculiar indeed! The two enormous balloons floated along behind him, and when he turned to look at them what a shock he had!

They were not in the least like Chinky and Mollie any more! One was green and one was blue—and even as Peter stared at them, the air began to escape from each balloon! They rapidly grew smaller—and smaller—and smaller—and soon they were just tiny lumps of coloured rubber, hanging from the string. Peter looked at them sadly.

“All that’s left of Mollie and Chinky!” he thought unhappily. “No wishing-chair either! Only me! Oh dear, oh dear! Whatever will be the end of this strange adventure?”

He put the balloons into his pocket, and went on. He came to a large hall, where a concert seemed to be going on. He slipped inside and sat down on a chair. He suddenly felt very tired indeed. He shut his eyes and yawned.

The chair began to rock softly. Peter opened his eyes, and saw that it had changed into a, rocking-horse! But things no longer astonished him in the Land of Dreams. It would be surprising if peculiar things
didn’t
happen, not if they did!

Soon he was fast asleep on the rocking-horse. It rose up into the air and flew out of the door. Peter slept on. He didn’t wake up until hours afterwards, and when at last he opened his eyes, what a surprise!

He was in the playroom at home, lying on the rug by the window! He sat up at once, and remembered everything. Sorrowfully he put his hands into his pockets and pulled out the two air balloons.

“Mollie and Chinky!” said Peter sadly.

“Yes! Do you want us?” said Mollie’s voice, and to his astonishment and delight he saw both Mollie and Chinky sitting in the wishing-chair nearby, both yawning, just waking up from a sleep.

“Oh!” he said, “I must have dreamt it all then! Listen, you two! I had such a funny dream! I went to the Land of Dreams and—”

“Yes, yes, yes!” said Chinky impatiently. “We’ve all been there. It was a real adventure. I don’t want to go there again. Ooooh! It was a horrid feeling turning into a balloon! It was a good thing you put us into your pocket, Peter!”

“Was it a
real
adventure then?” cried Peter, in amazement.

“As real as adventures ever are in the Land of Dreams,” said Chinky. “Now, what about some
real
toffee—that won’t turn into green peas or balloons? Get some treacle from your cook, Mollie, and we’ll make some. We deserve a treat after that horrid adventure!”

ONE morning, when the two children went down to their playroom to have a game with Chinky the pixie, they found him fast asleep.

“Wake up!” cried Peter, rolling him over. But Chinky didn’t wake up! He was breathing very deeply, and had quite nice, red cheeks—but he simply would
not
wake up!

“What’s the matter with him?” said Mollie, puzzled.

“Oh, he’s just pretending,” said Peter. “I’ll get a wet sponge! He’ll soon wake then!”

But even the sponge didn’t wake him up.

“There must be a spell on him or something,” said Mollie, rather frightened. “What shall we do, Peter? If only we knew where to get help. But we mustn’t tell anyone about Chinky—he’d be so cross when he woke up. And we don’t know how to find any fairies, or we could ask
them
for help!”

Suddenly the wishing-chair gave a creak, and Mollie looked round. “It’s growing its wings!” she cried. “Don’t let it fly away, Peter! We don’t want an adventure without Chinky!”

Peter ran to the chair—but it dodged him and flew straight out of the door, its wings flapping swiftly. Peter stared after it in dismay.

“Oh, Peter!” said Mollie. “Isn’t this dreadful! Here’s Chinky under a spell, or something—and now the chair’s run away! What an unlucky day!”

“Well, it’s gone,” said Peter gloomily. “Now what
are
we going to do about Chinky, Mollie?”

Just then there came the sound of a cautious tiptoe noise. Peter turned—just in time to see an ugly goblin slipping out of the door! “I put him under the sleepy spell!” shouted the goblin. “I meant to steal the chair before he woke up—but
you
came! Now I’m going to find the chair! If you don’t find the way to wake up that pixie before twelve o’clock tonight, he will vanish altogether! Ho, ho!”

“Horrid thing!” said Mollie, as the goblin disappeared into the garden. “I suppose he will go after our chair and have it for himself—and here he’s left Chinky in a magic sleep and we don’t know how to wake him! If only, only, only we knew how to find a fairy who might help us!”