by Enid Blyton
“How funny!” said Mollie. “Oh, Chinky—I do feel excited!”
“Come on,” said the pixie. “There’s no time to lose if we want to catch the underground train.”
He led the children to a big tree at the bottom of the garden. He twisted a piece of the bark and a door slid open. There was a narrow stairway in the tree going downwards. Mollie and Peter were so surprised to see it.
“Go down the stairs,” Chinky said to them. “I’ll just shut the door behind us.”
They climbed down and came to a small passage. Chinky joined them and they went along it until they came to a big turnstile, where a solemn grey rabbit sat holding a bundle of tickets.
“We want tickets for Witch Kirri-Kirri’s,” said Chinky. The rabbit gave them three yellow tickets and let them through the turnstile. There was a little platform beyond with a railway line running by it. Almost at once a train appeared out of the darkness. Its lamps gleamed like two eyes. There were no carriages—just open trucks with cushions in. The train was very crowded, and the children and Chinky found it difficult to get seats.
Gnomes, brownies, rabbits, moles, elves, and hedgehogs sat in the trucks, chattering and laughing. The two hedgehogs had a truck to themselves for they were so prickly that no one wanted to sit by them.
The train set off with much clattering. It stopped at station after station, and at last came to one labelled “Kirri-Kirri Station.”
Chinky and the children got out.
“Kirri-Kirri is such a rich and powerful witch that she has a station of her own,” explained Chinky. “Now listen—this is my plan, children. It’s no use us asking the witch for Whiskers, our cat—she just won’t let us have her. And it’s no use trying to get her by magic, because the witch’s magic is much stronger than mine. We must get her by a trick.”
“What trick?” asked the children.
“We’ll creep into her little garden,” said Chinky, “and we’ll make scrapey noises on the wall, like mice. We’ll squeak like mice too—and the witch will hear us and send Whiskers out to catch the mice. Then we’ll get her, run back to the station, and catch the next train home!”
“What a fine plan!” said Peter. “It’s so simple too! It can’t go wrong!”
“Sh!” said Chinky, pointing to a large house in the distance. “That’s Kirri-Kirri’s house.”
They had left the station behind and had come up into the open air again. The moonlight was bright enough to show them the road, and they could see everything very clearly indeed.
They slipped inside the witch’s wicket-gate. “You go to that end of the house and I’ll go to the other,” said Chinky. So Peter and Mollie crept to one end and began to scratch against the wall with bits of stick, whilst Chinky did the same the other end. Then they squeaked as high as they could, exactly like mice.
They heard a window being thrown up, and saw the witch’s head outlined against the lamplight.
“Mice again!” she grumbled. “Hie, Whiskers, come here! Catch them, catch them!”
Whiskers jumped down into the garden. The witch slammed down the window and drew the blind. Mollie made a dash for the big black cat and lifted her into her arms. Whiskers purred nineteen to the dozen and rubbed her soft head against Mollie’s hand. Chinky and Peter came up in delight.
“The plan worked beautifully!” said Peter. “Come on—let’s go to the station!”
And then a most unfortunate thing happened! Peter fell over a bush and came down with a clatter on the path! At once the window flew up again and Kirri-Kirri looked out. She shouted a very magic word and slammed the window down again.
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!” groaned Chinky at once.
“What’s the matter?” asked Mollie, scared.
“She’s put a spell round the garden!” said the pixie. “We can’t get out! She’ll find us here in the morning!”
“Can’t get out!” said Peter, going to the gate. “What nonsense! I’m going, anyway!”
But although he. opened the gate he couldn’t walk out. It was as if there was an invisible wall all round the garden! The children couldn’t get out anywhere. They forced their way through the hedge—but still the invisible wall seemed to be just beyond, and there was no way of getting out at all!
“Whatever shall we do?” asked Mollie.
“We can’t do anything,” said Chinky gloomily. “Peter was an awful silly to go and fall over like that, just when we had done everything so well.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” said poor Peter. “I do wish I hadn’t. I didn’t mean to.”
“Well, we’d better go and sit down in the porch,” said Chinky, who was shivering. “It’s warmer there.”
They sat huddled together in the porch and Mollie took Whiskers on her knee, saying she would make a nice hot-water bottle.
They were nodding off to sleep, for they were all very tired, when Whiskers suddenly began to snarl and spit. The children and Chinky woke up in a fright. They saw something flying round the garden, like a big black bird! Mollie stared—and then she leapt up and whispered as loudly as she dared— “It isn’t a bird! It’s the dear old wishing-chair! It’s come to find us!”
Chinky gave a chuckle of delight. He ran to the chair and took hold of it.
“Come on!” he said to the others. “The only way out of this bewitched garden is by flying up and up. We can’t get out any other way! The wishing-chair is just what we want!”
They all got into the chair. Whiskers was on Mollie’s knee. The chair flapped its wings, rose up into the air and flew almost to the clouds!
“What will old Kirri-Kirri say in the morning when she finds no-one in her garden, not even Whiskers!” giggled Chinky. “She’ll think she’s been dreaming! I wish I could see her face!”
The chair flew to the playroom. The children said good-night to Chinky, and, with Whiskers in her arms, Mollie ran with Peter up the path to their house. They were soon in bed and asleep. As for Whiskers, you may be sure she never went to sleep in the wishing-chair again!
The Disappearing Island
IT happened once that the children and Chinky had a most unpleasant adventure, and it was all Mollie’s fault.
The wishing-chair grew its wings one bright sunny morning just as the three of them were planning a game of pirates. Mollie saw the red wings growing from the legs of the chair and cried out in delight.
“Look! The chair’s off again! Let’s get in and have an adventure!”
They all crowded into it, and in a trice the chair was off through the door and into the air. It was such fun, for the day was clear and sunny, and the children could see for miles.
The chair flew on and on, and came to the towers and spires of Fairyland. They glittered in the sun and Peter wanted to go down and visit the Prince and Princess they had once rescued, but the chair still flew on. It flew over the Land of Gnomes, and over the Land of Toadstools, and at last came to a bright blue sea.
“Hallo, hallo!” said Chinky, peering over the edge of the chair, “I’ve never been as far as this before. I don’t know if we ought to fly over the sea. The chair might get tired—and then what would happen to us if we all came down in the sea!”
“We shan’t do that!” said Mollie, pointing to a blue island far away on the horizon. “I think the chair is making for that land over there.”
The chair flew steadily towards it, and the children saw that the land they had seen in the distance was a small and beautiful island. It was packed with flowers, and the sound of bells came faintly up from the fields and hills.
“We mustn’t go there,” said Chinky suddenly. “That’s Disappearing Island!”
“Well, why shouldn’t we go there?” said Mollie.
“Because it suddenly disappears,” said Chinky. “I’ve heard of it before. It’s a horrid place. You get there and think it’s all as beautiful as can be— and then it suddenly disappears and takes you with it.”
“It can’t be horrid,” said Mo
llie longingly, looking down at the sunny, flower-spread island. “Oh, Chinky, you must be mistaken. It’s the most beautiful island I ever saw! I do want to go. There are some lovely birds there too. I can hear them singing.”
“I tell you, Mollie, it’s dangerous to go to Disappearing Island,” said Chinky crossly. “You might believe me.”
“You’re not always right!” said Mollie obstinately. “I want to go there! Wishing-chair, fly down to that lovely island.”
At once the chair began to fly downwards. Chinky glared at Mollie, but the words were said. He couldn’t unsay them. Down they flew and down and down!
The brilliant island came nearer and nearer. Mollie shouted in delight to see such glorious bright flowers, such shiny-winged birds, such plump, soft rabbits. The chair flew swiftly towards them.
And then, just as they were about to land in a field spread with buttercups as large as poppies, among soft-eyed bunnies and singing birds, a most strange and peculiar thing happened.
The island disappeared! One moment it was there, and the sun was shining on its fields—and the next moment there was only a faint blue mist! The chair flew through the mist—and then splash! They were all in the sea!
Mollie and Peter were flung off the chair into the water. Chinky grabbed the back of the chair, and reached his hand out to the children. They clambered back on to the chair, which was bobbing about on the waves, soaking wet.
“What did I tell you?” said Chinky angrily. “Didn’t I say it was Disappearing Island? Now see what’s happened! It’s gone and disappeared, and we’ve fallen into the sea! A nice pickle we are in—all wet and shivery! Just like a girl to get us into this mess!”
Mollie went red. How she wished she hadn’t wanted to go to Disappearing Island!
“Well, I didn’t know it was going to disappear so suddenly,” she said. “I’m very sorry.”
“Not much good being sorry,” said Peter gloomily, squeezing the water out of his clothes. “How are we going to get to land? As far as I can see there is water all round us for miles! The chair’s wings are wet, and it can’t fly.”
The three of them were indeed in a dreadful fix! It was fortunate for them that the chair was made of wood, or they would not have had anything to cling to!
They bobbed up and down for some time, wondering what to do. Suddenly, to their great surprise, a little head popped out of the sea.
“Hallo!” it said. “Are you wanting help?”
“Yes,” said Chinky. “Are you a merman?”
“I am!” said the little fellow. The children looked down at him, and through the green water they could see his fish-like body covered with scales from the waist downwards and ending in a silvery tail. “Do you want to be towed to land?”
“Yes, please,” said Chinky joyfully.
“That will cost you a piece of gold,” said the merman.
“I haven’t any with me, but we will send it to you as soon as we get home,” promised Chinky. The merman swam off and came back riding on a big fish. He threw a rope of seaweed around the back of the chair and shouted to Chinky to hold on to it. Then the fish set off at a great speed, towing the chair behind it with Chinky and the children safely on it! The merman rode on the fish all the way, singing a funny little watery song. It was a strange ride!
Soon they came to land, and the children dragged the chair out of the water on to the sun-baked sand. “Thank you,” they said to the merman. “We will send you the money as soon as we can.”
The merman jumped on the fish again, waved his wet hand, and dived into the waves with a splash.
“We’ll wait till the sun has dried the chair’s wings, and we’ll dry our own clothes,” said Chinky. “Then we’ll go home. I think that was a most unpleasant adventure. We might have been bobbing about for days on the sea!”
Mollie didn’t say anything. She knew it was all her fault. They dried their clothes, and as soon as the wings of the chair were quite dry too, they sat in it, and Chinky cried, “Home, wishing-chair, home!”
They flew home. Mollie jumped off the chair as soon as it arrived in the playroom and ran to her money-box. She tipped out all her pennies, sixpences, and shillings.
“Here you are, Chinky,” she said. “I’m going to pay for that fish-ride myself. It was all my fault. I’m very sorry, and I won’t be so silly again. Do forgive me!”
“Oh! That’s very nice of you, Mollie!” said Chinky, and he gave her a hug. “Of course we forgive you! All’s well that ends well! We’re home again safe and sound!”
He changed the pennies, sixpences, and shillings into a big gold piece and gave it to the blackbird in the garden, asking him to take it to the merman.
“That’s the end of that adventure!” said Chinky. “Well, let’s hope our next one will be much much nicer!”
The Magician’s Party
ONE afternoon, when the children and Chinky were reading stories, there came a timid knock at the door. “Come in!” called Mollie. The door opened and in came two small elves.
“May we speak to Chinky?” they asked. Chinky waved them to a chair.
“Sit down,” he said. “What do you want?”
“Please, may we borrow your wishing-chair to go to the Magician Greatheart’s party,” said the bigger elf.
“Well, it doesn’t belong to me,” said Chinky. “It belongs to these two children.”
“Would you let us borrow it?” asked the little elves.
“Certainly,” said Mollie and Peter.
“What reward do you ask?” said the elves.
“Oh, you can have the chair for nothing,” said Mollie. “Bring it back safely, that’s all.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t like to come to the party?” asked the elves. “We are very small, and there are only five of us to go. There would be plenty of room for you and for Chinky too in the chair.”
“Stars and moon, what a treat!” cried Chinky in delight. “Yes, we’ll all go! Thanks very much! Greatheart’s parties are glorious! My word, this is luck! When is the party, elves?”
“Tomorrow night,” said the elves. “Sharp at midnight. We’ll be here at half-past eleven.”
“Right,” said Chinky. The little elves said goodbye and ran out. Chinky rubbed his hands and turned to the two delighted children.
“The magician is a marvellous fellow,” he said. “He is a good magician, and the enchantments and magic he knows are perfectly wonderful. I hope he does a few tricks! Put on your best clothes and be here at half-past eleven tomorrow night, won’t you!”
The children were most excited. They talked about nothing else all day long and the next day too. They dressed themselves in their best clothes and ran down to the playroom at half-past eleven the next night. Chinky was there too, looking very grand indeed, for he had on a suit that seemed to be made of silver moonbeams sewn with pearls.
The elves were there waiting, all dressed daintily in flower petals, sewn with spider thread. Even the wishing-chair looked smart, for Chinky had tied a big bow on each of its arms! Its red wings were lazily flapping.
The children got in and Chinky sat on the back. The five little elves easily found room on the two arms. Off they went, flying through the moonlight to their great and wonderful party!
The magician’s palace was set on top of a high hill. The chair did not take long to get there. It flew down and took its place among the long line of carriages that were drawing up one by one at the big front door. When their turn came the children and the elves jumped off the chair and ran up the steps. They were shown into a great hall and there they shook hands with the Magician Greatheart, a tall and handsome enchanter, whose cloak rippled out as he walked, as if it were made of blue water. His eyes were kind and looked right through every one.
A band was playing merrily in the big hall, and Chinky caught hold of Mollie and danced with her.
Peter found a small, shy fairy and danced with her too, though she was so light that he couldn’t make up his mind
if she was real or not!
There were hundreds of fairy folk there of all kinds— gnomes, goblins, brownies, fairies, elves, pixies—but only two children, so Mollie and Peter felt most honoured. Then came the supper. It was so queer. The long, long table was spread with plates and glasses and dishes, but there was no food at all, no, not even a yellow jelly. The magician took his place at the end of the table. “Will you each wish for what you like best to eat?” he said in his kind, deep voice. “Take it in turn, please!” A brownie next to him said, “I wish for honey-lemonade and sugar biscuits!”
At once a jug of yellow lemonade appeared by him and a plate of delicious sugar biscuits! The fairy next to the brownie wished for chocolate blancmange and a cream ice. They appeared even as she spoke the words!
It was such fun to see them come.
Mollie and Peter watched in amazement as all the dishes and jugs on the table became full of the most exciting things when each little creature wished his or her wish. They had their turns too!
“I wish for cream buns and ginger-beer!” said Mollie.
“And I wish for treacle pudding and lemonade!” said Peter. A dish of cream buns and a bottle of fizzy ginger-beer appeared in front of Mollie, and a dish with a steaming hot treacle pudding and a jug of lemonade appeared by Peter. It was just like a dream!
Every one ate and drank and was merry as could be. Then, after the supper, the magician spoke one strange word, and the long, long table, with its dishes and plates, vanished into thin air!
“Now we will have some magic!” said the magician, beaming at his excited guests.
They all sat down on the floor. The magician took a silver stick and tapped three times on the floor. A spire of green smoke came up and made a crackling noise. It shot up into the air, turned over and over and wound its way among the guests, dropping tiny bunches of sweet-smelling flowers as it passed—buttonholes for every one!
