The Adventures of the Wishing-Chair

  “What are we to do!” sighed Peter. “I hate to think of poor old Chinky a prisoner in there—and all because we quarrelled with him, too.”

  “Let’s hide the chair under a bush and see if we can find anyone living near here,” said Mollie. “We might find someone who could help us.”

  So they carefully hid the chair under a bramble-bush, and piled bracken over it too. Then they found a little path and went down it, wondering where it led to.

  It led to a small and pretty cottage. The name was on the gate... Dimple Cottage. Mollie liked the sound of it. She thought they would be quite safe in going there.

  They knocked. To their enormous surprise the door was opened by a brown mouse! She wore a check apron and cap, and large slippers on her feet. The children stared. They could never get used to this sort of thing, although they had seen many strange sights by now.

  “Good afternoon,” said the mouse.

  “Good afternoon,” said Peter, and then didn’t know what else to say.

  “Do you want to see my mistress?” asked the mouse.

  “Well, yes, perhaps it would be a good idea,” said Peter. So the mouse asked them in and showed them into a tiny drawing-room.

  “What are we going to say?” whispered Peter—but before Mollie had time to answer, someone came into the room.

  It was a small elf, with neat silvery wings, silvery golden hair, and a big dimple in her cheek when she smiled. Mollie and Peter liked her at once.

  “Good afternoon,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

  Both talking at once, the two children told her their troubles—how they had quarrelled with Chinky—and he had gone home—and been caught by the yellow bird belonging to the enchanter Clip-clap—and how their wishing-chair had brought them to the strange tower.

  “But we don’t know how to get into it and we are afraid of being caught by Clip-clap too,” said Peter. “I don’t know if you can help us?”

  “I don’t think I can,” said the elf, whose name was Dimple. “No one knows a spell powerful enough to get into the enchanter’s tower. I’ve lived here for three hundred years and no one has ever got into that tower except the enchanter and his servants and friends. I wouldn’t try if I were you.”

  “We must,” said Mollie. “You see, Chinky is our own friend—and we must help him if we can.”

  “Yes—we have to help our friends,” said the elf. “Wait a minute—I wonder if my mouse knows anything that might help us. Harriet! Harriet!”

  The little servant mouse came running in. “Yes, Madam,” she said.

  “Harriet, these children want to get into the enchanter’s tower,” said Dimple. “Do you know of any way in?”

  “Well yes, Madam, I do,” said Harriet.

  “Oh, do you!” cried Mollie, in delight. “Do, do tell us, Harriet!”

  “My auntie lives down in the cellars of the tower,” said the little mouse. “Sometimes, on my afternoon off, I go to see her.”

  “And how do you get into the tower?” asked Dimple.

  “Down the mouse-hole, of course,” said Harriet. “There’s one on the far side of the tower. I always scamper down there.”

  “Oh,” said the children, in disappointment, looking at the small mouse. “We couldn’t get down a mouse-hole. We are too big. You are a big mouse, but even so, the mouse-hole would not take us!”

  Mollie was so disappointed that she cried into her handkerchief. Dimple patted her on the back.

  “Don’t do that,” she said. “I can give you a spell to make you small. Then you can slip down the mouse-hole with Harriet, and see if you can find Chinky.”

  “Oh thank you, thank you!” cried the children, in delight. “That is kind of you!”

  Dimple went to a shelf and took down a box. Out of it she shook two pills. They were queer because they were green one side and red the other!

  “Here you are,” she said. “Eat these and you will be small enough to go down the hole. They taste horrid, but never mind.”

  The children each chewed up a pill. They certainly had a funny taste—but they were very magic indeed, and no sooner were they eaten than Mollie and Peter felt as though they were going down in a lift—for they suddenly grew very tiny indeed! They looked up at Dimple, and she seemed enormous to them!

  “Harriet, take off your apron and cap and take these children to your auntie,” said Dimple. So Harriet carefully folded up her cap and apron and then went out with the children. She took them to the tower and showed them a small hole under the wall.

  “Down here!” she said—and down they all went!

  The Strange Tower

  THE hole was dark and smelt a bit funny. Mollie clung tightly to Peter’s hand. It was strange being so small. Harriet the mouse went on in front, and they could see her little gleaming eyes as she turned round now and again. Once Peter trod on her tail and she gave an angry squeal.

  “So sorry,” said Peter. “I keep forgetting you have such a long tail, Harriet.”

  At last they came to a place where the tunnel widened out into a room. It was very warm there. A large mouse pounced on Harriet and gave her a hug.

  “Oh, Auntie, you’re at home!” said Harriet. “See, I’ve brought you two children. They wanted to get into the tower, so I thought they might as well use our mouse-tunnel. It’s the only way in.”

  “Good afternoon,” said Harriet’s aunt. She seemed just an ordinary mouse except that she wore large spectacles. Her home was chiefly made of paper, it seemed. There were hundreds of little bits of it, neatly made into beds and tables.

  “What are the children going to do?” said Harriet’s aunt.

  “We would like to know how to get into the cellars,” said Peter. “You see, if you show us the way there we can get into the tower above and perhaps find the friend we are looking for.”

  “Well, come this way then,” said the aunt. “But look out for the cat, won’t you? She sometimes waits about in the cellar and you don’t want her to catch you.”

  She took them down another narrow passage, and then the children found themselves walking out of a hole into a dark, damp cellar.

  “Goodbye,” said the mouse. “I’ll put a little candle just inside this hole, so that you will know the way back, children. I hope you find your friend.”

  Mollie took Peter’s hand. The cellar was very dark, A chink of light came from somewhere to the right.

  “The cellar steps must go up towards that chink of light,” said Peter. “Come on. Walk carefully in case we bump into anything. And look out for the cat! We are very small, you know.”

  They found the steps. They seemed very, very big to the children, now that they were so tiny, and Peter had to help Mollie up each one. At last they got to the top. They looked under the door that stood at the top of the steps. Beyond was a kitchen.

  “Do you suppose the enchanter is back yet?” whispered Mollie.

  “No,” said Peter. “We should have heard that clip-clapping noise if he had come back. I think we are safe at the moment. But we must hide at once if we hear him coming. And look out for the cat, Mollie.”

  “Can we squeeze under the door, do you think?” asked Mollie. But they couldn’t. The crack was not big enough. However, the door was not quite closed, and by pushing with all their might the two children managed to get it just enough open to squeeze through.

  They looked round. They were in a very big kitchen —or it seemed big to them, because they were so tiny. They could not see Chinky anywhere.

  “Come on,” said Peter, giving Mollie his hand. “We’ll go into the next room.”

  “Meow!” suddenly came a voice, and a large tabby cat with green eyes came out from behind a chair. Mollie felt quite shaky at the knees. She knew what a mouse must feel like when it saw a cat! What a giant of an animal it seemed!

  “Don’t show it you are frightened,” said Peter. “It has smelt us, and we don’t smell like mice. Stay here a moment, Mollie, and I’ll go over to i
t and stroke what I can reach of it.”

  “Oh, Peter, you are brave!” said Mollie. Peter walked boldly over to the cat and stroked her legs. She seemed very pleased and purred loudly. Peter beckoned to Mollie. She ran over and stroked the cat too. It was a friendly creature.

  It went into the next room, purring to Mollie and Peter, who followed her. This room was very small and was lighted by a candle. No daylight came into the tower, for there were no windows.

  No one was in this little room either. A dish stood on the floor with some milk in it, and a large round basket with a fat cushion in it stood nearby.

  “This must be the cat’s room,” said Mollie. “There is no furniture in it. I do wonder where Chinky is.”

  There were some stairs going upwards from the cat’s little room. The children climbed them with great difficulty for they were very small, and the stairs seemed very big.

  Before they got to the top they heard the sound of crying. It was Chinky! He must indeed be very unhappy if he were crying! He hardly ever cried.

  How Mollie and Peter tried to climb those stairs quickly! At last they reached the top and found themselves before a big open door. They ran in. Chinky was lying on a small bed, crying as if his heart would break!

  “Chinky! Chinky! Don’t cry! We are here to rescue you!” shouted Peter, hoping that Chinky would hear his voice, for it was a very small one now.

  Chinky did hear it. He sat up at once, with the tears still running down his cheeks. He saw Mollie and Peter and stared at them in the greatest surprise. He couldn’t say a word.

  “Chinky!” cried Mollie, running over to him. “We’ve come to save you. Cheer up! We got in through a mouse-hole after an elf had made us small. How can we save you?”

  “Oh, you are good, good friends to come and look for me,” said Chinky, drying his eyes. “I hate being here. I hate this enchanter. He wants me to do bad spells, and I won’t. I was afraid I would be here for hundreds of years and never see you again.”

  “Tell us how we can get away”,” said Peter.

  “Well, the only way in seems to be the mouse-hole you came by,” said Chinky. “So I suppose the only way out is the mouse-hole too. But I’m too big to go that way.”

  “Well, I’ll go back to Dimple’s cottage and ask her for a pill to make you small like us,” said Peter, at once. “Then when I bring it back you can take it, and we’ll all go down the hole, get Dimple to make us the right size again, find the wishing-chair, and go home. See?”

  “It sounds easy enough,” said Chinky. “But I don’t somehow think it will all go quite so nicely as that. Still, we can but try. Leave Mollie here with me, Peter, and you go down the mouse-hole again.”

  “We’ll see him safely to the cellar door,” said Mollie. So they all went down the stairs again, and were just going through the cat’s little room when Chinky turned pale.

  “The enchanter’s coming back!” he said. “Oh, where can you hide?”

  “Quick, quick, think of somewhere!” cried Mollie. There came a clip-clapping noise, like thunder, as she spoke. The tower split in half and a door came. It opened, and in strode the enchanter, tall and thin, his plaited beard sweeping the ground.

  But before he had seen the two children Peter had pulled Mollie over to the cat’s basket. The big cat was lying there comfortably. The children scrambled in and lay down by the cat, hiding in her thick fur. Chinky was left by himself.

  “I smell children!” said the enchanter.

  “How could children get into your tower, master?” said Chinky.

  The enchanter sniffed and began to look all round the two rooms. The cat did not stir. Clip-clap stroked her as he passed, and she purred—but she stayed in her basket, and Mollie and Peter cuddled close into her fur, hoping she would not move at all.

  The enchanter did not think of looking in the cat’s basket. He soon gave up the hunt and ran up the stairs, calling to Chinky to go with him.

  “Go quickly now, Peter,” whispered Chinky, before he followed Clip-clap. “Mollie can stay with the cat. She is safe there.”

  Quick as could be Peter slipped across the floor to the cellar door, squeezed through the small opening, and made his way down the steps. He saw the tiny candlelight burning at the entrance to the mouse-hole and ran across to it. In he went and made his way up to the mouse-room. Harriet the mouse was still there, talking to her auntie.

  “Please, will you take me back to Dimple?” asked Peter. “It is very important.”

  Harriet gave him her paw and took him up the hole out into the open air again. Then they hurried together to Dimple’s cottage. Soon Peter had told Dimple all that had happened. She gave him another red-and-green pill, and warned him to be careful not to let Clip-clap see him.

  Then off went Peter to the mouse-hole again. Ah! Chinky would soon be safe!

  The Great Escape

  PETER hurried from Dimple’s cottage, holding the pill in his hand that was to make Chinky as small as he was—then they could all escape down the mouse-hole!

  He ran down the hole and made his way to the cellar. He climbed up the steps to the kitchen. He peeped under the door. There was no one in the kitchen.

  He ran over the floor to the little room belonging to the cat. The big grey tabby was still in the basket, and Mollie was there too, hiding safely under the thick fur. Good!

  “Chinky is still upstairs with the enchanter,” she whispered. Just at that moment there came footsteps down the stairs, and the enchanter came in.

  The cat jumped out of her basket and went to greet him, rubbing against Clip-clap’s legs and purring loudly. Mollie and Peter crouched down in the basket and tried to hide under the cushion—but, alas! The enchanter saw them!

  “Aha! I thought I sniffed children!” he said. He came over to the basket and looked down.

  “How small you are!” he said. “I did not know there were such small children to be found. What have you got in your hand, little boy?”

  Oh dear! What Peter was holding so tightly was the little green-and-red pill that was to make Chinky small enough to go down the mouse hole! Peter put his hand behind his back and glared at the tall enchanter.

  But it was no use. He had to show Clip-clap what he had—and no sooner did the enchanter see the little green-and-red pill than he guessed what it was for!

  “Oho!” he said. “So you made yourselves small first, did you—and came in through a mouse-hole, I guess—thinking to make Chinky small too, so that he might escape the same way! Well—I’ll spoil all that! You shall grow big again—and you won’t be able to creep down any mouse-holes! You can stay here and help Chinky work for me!”

  He tapped Mollie on the head and then Peter. They shot up to their own size again, and stared at Clip-clap in alarm and dismay. What a horrid ending to all their plans! They had thought themselves so clever, too.

  “Well,” said Clip-clap, looking at them. “You won’t escape in a hurry now, I promise you! No one knows the secret of making the door come in this tower but me! Chinky! Chinky! Come and see your fine friends now!”

  Chinky came running down the stairs and stopped in the greatest dismay when he saw Peter and Mollie, both their right size, standing in front of the enchanter.

  “So you had all laid fine plans for escape, had you?” said Clip-clap. “Well, now you can just settle down to working hard for me, and using those good brains of yours for my spells! Go and help Chinky to polish my bedroom floor, and after that you can clean all the silver wands I use for my magic!”

  The three went upstairs very sadly and in silence. Chinky handed each child a large yellow duster and all three went down on their hands and knees and began to polish the wooden floor.

  “Don’t say a word till we hear Clip-clap go out again,” whispered Chinky. “He has ears as sharp as a hare’s.”

  So nobody said a word until they heard the clip-clap crashing noise, and knew that the enchanter had gone out again. Then they stood up and looked at one anoth
er.

  “What are we to do now?” groaned Peter.

  “Listen!” said Chinky quickly. “I have a plan. Where’s the wishing-chair?”

  “Under a bramble bush outside the tower,” said Peter. “But what’s the good of that? We can’t get out to it, and certainly the chair can’t get in!”

  “I’m not so sure of that!” said Chinky. “You know that mouse you told me about—Dimple’s servant? Well, if you could speak to her, Peter, and tell her to go to Dimple and tell her what’s happened, she might be able to make the wishing-chair small enough for Harriet to get it down the mouse-hole and into the cellar. I know a spell to make it the right size—and then, when Clip-clap does his disappearing act and goes out through the tower door, we’ll fly out too! See?”

  “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!”