The Wishing-Chair Again (11 page)

“Bad boy!” roared Mister Grim. “Stay in after school this afternoon and write out one thousand times 'I must not snatch'.”

There was a little time before afternoon school. Peter, Chinky, Mollie and Winks had a meeting in a far corner of the grounds.

“Winks, that's my wand Mister Grim has got and is using for a stick,” said Chinky.

Winks whistled. “I
say!
That's a fine bit of news. We ought to be able to do something about that.”

“But what?” asked Chinky. “I'm so afraid he will break my wand, and then it will be no use. Somehow or other we've got to get it back.”

“Now listen,” said Winks. “A wand will never hit its owner, you know that. Well, what about being very naughty in class this afternoon and having to go up to Mister Grim to be punished—and your wand will refuse to cane you, of course—and surely you can easily get it back then, and do a bit of magic to get yourselves free?”

“Oooh, yes,” said Chinky, looking very cheerful. “That's an awfully good idea of yours, Winks. I'd forgotten that a wand never turns against its owner. I'll be very naughty—and then we'll see what happens.”

They all went in to afternoon school feeling rather excited. What would happen? It would certainly be fun to see Chinky being very naughty, to begin with—and even greater fun to see the wand refusing to punish him!

Chinky began by yawning very loudly indeed. Mister Grim heard him and tapped hard on his desk with the wand—crack! crack!

“Chinky? You are most impolite. Stand up during the rest of the class instead of sitting.”

Chinky stood—but he stood with his back to Mister Grim.

Mister Grim glared. “Bad pixie! You are being impolite again. Stand round the other way!”

Chinky immediately stood on his hands and waved his feet in the air. All the brownies laughed and clapped.

Mister Grim looked as black as thunder. “Come here!” he cried, and Chinky began to walk towards him on his hands. He really looked very funny indeed. Winks laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks.

But Mister Grim didn't try to cane him that time. He told him to go and stand in the corner—the right way up.

So Chinky stood in the corner the right way up, turning every now and then to grin at the others. Mister Grim began firing questions at the class. “Hands up those who know why brownies have long beards. Hands up those who know the magic word for 'disappear.' Hands up those who know why green smoke always comes out of chimneys of witches' houses. Hands up . . .”

He didn't even wait for anyone to answer, so the brownies just shot up their hands at each question and then put them down again and waited for the next. Peter and Mollie thought it was the silliest class they had ever attended!

“And now—can anyone ask me a question
I
can't answer?” said Mister Grim. “Aha! It would take a clever brownie to do that! Be careful—because if I
can
answer it, you'll have to come up and be punished. Now, who will ask me a question I can't answer?”

The brownies had all been caught by this trick before, so nobody put up his hand.

Mister Grim pounced on poor Winks. “You, brownie! Can't you think of a question?”

“Yes, sir,” said Winks at once. “I'd like to know why gooseberries wear whiskers. Do they belong to the brownie family?”

Everybody roared at this ridiculous question. Except Mister Grim. He looked as grim as his name. He rapped with his stick on the desk.

“Come up here, Winks. I will not have you upsetting the class like this with your silly remarks.”

“But, sir—can you answer the question? I really do want to know the answer,” said Winks, looking very hurt.

“COME UP HERE!” boomed Mister Grim, and Winks went up, grinning round at the others. He got three strokes of the wand, but it didn't hurt him at all, of course, as he had still got the spell in his hands that prevented the stick from hurting him.

“I've got a question! I've got a question!” suddenly called out Chinky, seeing a chance to get his wand.

“What is it?” said Mister Grim, frowning. “I warn you, if it's a stupid question, I shall give you the stick.”

“Mister Grim, why do horses wear hooves instead of feet? “ cried Chinky.

“Come up here,” said Mister Grim sternly. “That's another silly question.”

“But I want to
know,”
wailed Chinky, pretending to cry.

The brownies began to laugh again. Mister Grim lost his temper.

“Come up here! “ he roared, and Chinky went. “Hold out your hand,” said Mister Grim. Chinky held it out. Mister Grim brought down the wand as hard as he could—but, dear me, he missed Chinky's hand altogether. The wand simply slipped to one side and didn't touch Chinky's hand at all. Chinky laughed.

“Bad shot, Mister Grim!”

Mister Grim tried again—and again—and again—but each time the wand slid away from Chinky's outstretched hand and hit the desk instead. It was very puzzling indeed for Mister Grim.

The brownies were all laughing again. So were Peter and Mollie. Mister Grim's face was so comical to watch as he tried to hit Chinky's hand and couldn't.

“I shall break this stick in two!” he cried suddenly in a rage.

That gave Chinky a shock. “No,” he shouted. “No, you mustn't do that! You mustn't!”

“Why not?” said Mister Grim, and he put both hands on the wand as if to break it.

Peter, Mollie and Chinky watched in despair, waiting for the crack.

But the wand wasn't going to let itself be broken! It slid out of Mister Grim's big hands and shot over to Chinky, who caught it as it came.

“Ha!” shouted Chinky in delight. “I've got it again—my lovely Wand—I've got it!”

“What! Is it a wand?” cried Mister Grim in astonishment. “I didn't know that. Give it back to me!”

He snatched at it, but Chinky was skipping down the room, waving it.

“I'll give you all a half-holiday! Yes, I will! See my wand waving to give you all a half-holiday! Go into the garden and play, all of you!”

The brownies didn't wait. They rushed out of the room at top speed, shouting and laughing. Soon only Peter, Molly and Chinky were left with Mister Grim. Winks was peeping round the door.

“How DARE you treat me like this!” shouted Mister Grim, marching towards Chinky. “I'll—”

“Go back, go back!” chanted Chinky, and waved his wand at Mister Grim, whose feet at once took him six steps backwards, much to his surprise. “You see, I've got magic in my wand,” cried the pixie. “Aha! I may have powerful magic, Mister Grim, so be careful!”

“Come on, Chinky,” whispered Peter. “Let's go and find the Wishing-Chair and fly off.”

“But I want my doll Rosebud before we go,” said Mollie. “And have you forgotten your engine and all the other toys, Peter? We must take those with us. Mister Grim, give us our toys!”

“Certainly not,” said Mister Grim, and he shook a large key at them. “See this key? It's the key of the store-room, which I've locked. You can't get your toys and you never shall!”

“We'll see about that,” said Chinky. “We'll just see about that, Mister Grim!”

MISTER GRIM stared angrily at Chinky, who was still waving his wand to keep the teacher from coming any nearer to him.

“You can't get your toys, so make up your mind about that,” he said. “And stop waving that ridiculous wand. Its magic will soon run out.”

Chinky himself was a bit afraid that it would. It was a very new wand and hadn't very powerful magic in it yet. “I think we'd better go before the wand's magic wears out,” he said in a low voice to Peter and Mollie. “We don't want to get into Mister Grim's power again, do we?”

“Oh no, we don't,” said Mollie at once. “Let's go and find the Wishing-Chair and fly off. Quick!”

She darted out of the door and Peter and Chinky followed. Mister Grim, seeing them running, followed, too. But just outside the door he ran into a crowd of brownies that popped up from nowhere quite suddenly, and over he went! When he got up the children and Chinky were nowhere to be seen.

He began to run down the garden again, but once more he tripped over a mass of brownies. They weren't a bit afraid of him now because Chinky had taken his stick—the wand!

Chinky and the others raced to find the Wishing-Chair. Where was the bush they had hidden it in? Ah, there it was! They ran to the bush—but, oh dear, the chair wasn't there!

“One of the brownies must have found it and taken it,” said Chinky. Just then Winks ran up and pulled at his arm.

“I found your Wishing-Chair and hid it in the shed,” he said. “I was afraid Mister Grim might see it if he walked round the garden. Come along—I'll show you where it is.”

He took the three to an old broken-down shed. The roof had fallen in at one end. There were no windows to the shed, so it was very dark inside. Chinky groped his way in—and immediately fell over the Wishing-Chair.

He felt the legs anxiously to see if the chair still had its wings. Yes—thank goodness—it had!

The wings waved gently as they felt Chinky's anxious hands. The chair creaked softly. Chinky knew it was glad to have him again.

“Wishing-Chair, we must go quickly,” said Chinky, and he climbed on to the seat. “Come on, Peter and Mollie—quickly, before Mister Grim comes!”

“What about Winks? Aren't we going to take him, too?” said Mollie.

“Oh—would you really?” said Winks, in delight. “You really are very kind. I hate this school. I've been trying to escape for ages.”

He was just about to squeeze in the chair with the others when somebody appeared at the doorway. It was Mister Grim!

“So here you are!” he said, peering in. “All complete with a Wishing-Chair, too! I might have guessed that that was how you came. Well, I'm going to lock this door, so you won't be able to fly out—and there are no windows at all!”

Winks leapt off the chair and ran to him. He tried to take the key from Mister Grim's hand, and the two struggled at the door.

“Fly out where the roof has fallen in, fly out there!” suddenly shouted Winks. “The chair can just squeeze through it!”

And the chair rose up into the air and flew to where the roof had fallen in! It got stuck half-way through, but Peter broke away a bit more roof and the chair suddenly shot through and out into the open air.

“Oh, poor Winks—we've left him there,” cried Mollie, almost in tears. “We can't leave him! We must go back!”

“Go on, Chair, fly off with them! “ shouted Winks from below in the shed. “Don't mind me! Escape while you can.”

The chair flew out of hearing. Chinky and Peter were very silent. Mollie wiped her eyes with her hanky. “I think you two should have taken the chair down and tried to help Winks,” she said. “It was wrong of you to leave him.”

“We'll go back for him,” said Chinky, taking Mollie's hand. “But, dear Mollie, you see we had
you
to think of, and both Peter and I know we have to look after you, because you're a girl. We had to think of you—didn't we, Peter?”

“Of course,” said Peter. “You're my sister, Mollie, and you know that brothers must always look after their sisters. I couldn't possibly risk taking you down into danger again just then, when I knew Mister Grim was so angry. We'll go back for Winks, don't worry.”

“And what about our toys, too?” said Mollie, with a sniff. “I think it's very nice of you both to want to take care of me like this—but I do feel so sorry for Winks, and it's dreadful to have to leave Rosebud behind, too.”

“And my engine,” said Peter, gloomily, “and the skittles and soldiers.”

“We'll get them all back,” said Chinky, comfortingly. “You wait and see.”

The chair took them back to the playroom, flapping its wings strongly. They really were beautiful big wings. Mollie was glad they were, because now that she and Peter had grown heavier she felt that the chair really did need to be stronger.

They arrived at the playroom and flew in at the door. The chair gave a creaking sort of sigh and set itself down in its place. Its wings at once vanished.

“There! Its wings have gone already,” said Mollie, ready to cry again. “So now we can't go and rescue Winks today.”

“Well—that's a pity,” said Chinky. “We shall just have to wait till its wings grow again. Anyway, it will give us time to make a plan for getting back our toys, too. That will be difficult, you know, because if the store-room is locked and Mister Grim keeps the key on his key-ring, and carries it about with him, I don't see at present how we can rescue the toys.”