by Enid Blyton
‘Dear, dear, dear,’ said the Labeller, ‘that was a very silly thing to do. Perhaps I’d better label you all silly, had I?’
‘No, thank you,’ said the brownies quickly. ‘We aren’t silly any more. We’re sorry for what we did, and we’re trying to find the Princess and rescue her.’
The Labeller got out some buns and told the little mouse to make some hot milk.
‘Sit down,’ he said, ‘and have something to eat. I’m sure it was very kind of you to help my little servant to pick up all the labels he had dropped.’
The brownies each took and bun and said ‘Thank you’.
‘And when are you going back to Brownie Town?’ asked the Labeller. ‘When you’ve rescued the Princess?’
‘No,’ answered Hop sadly, ‘we can’t. The King said we weren’t to go back until we had found our goodness – and people can’t find their goodnesses, of course – so we’re afraid we’ll never be able to go back.’
‘But of course you can find your goodness if you’ve got any!’ said the Labeller. ‘Why, my brother, the Bottler, can easily give you it if you’ve any that belongs to you. He bottles up all the goodness in the world, you know, and then, when anyone starts being peevish and grumpy, he seeks out his messenger – my mouse’s cousin – to drop a little out of one of the bottles of goodness into something the peevish person is drinking. Then the grumpy person begins to smile again, and thinks the world is a fine place, after all.’
‘Dear me!’ said the brownies, in the greatest surprise. ‘Is that really so?’
‘And do you mean to say that if we’ve done any good deeds, for instance, the Bottler has got them boiled down and bottled up in a jar?’ asked Skip in excitement. ‘Bottles that we can take away?’
‘Oh yes,’ said the Labeller, taking another bun. ‘With your own names on and everything.’
‘Well! If that isn’t splendid!’ cried Hop in delight. ‘Could we go and see if the Bottler’s got any of our goodness bottled up?’
‘Finish your milk and buns first,’ said the Labeller, ‘then you can go.’
The brownies finished their food and jumped up.
‘Well, goodbye,’ said the Labeller, shaking hands with them. ‘The mouse will show you the right door. Good luck to you.’
Off went the brownies in a great state of excitement. They almost trod on the mouse’s tail, they were in such a hurry.
They came to the little door marked ‘The Bottler’. They knocked.
‘Come in,’ said a voice.
They went in, and saw a room like the Labeller’s. It was full of thousands of bottles standing on hundreds of shelves.
The Bottler was very like the Labeller, except that he was a good deal fatter.
‘What can I do for you?’ he asked.
‘Please,’ said Hop in a shaky voice, ‘please have you any goodness of ours bottled up?’
‘Who are you?’ asked the Bottler kindly.
‘Hop, Skip and Jump, three brownies from Brownie Town!’ answered Hop.
‘Hm-m-m, let me see,’ said the Bottler, putting a second pair of spectacles on. He walked up to a shelf labelled ‘Brownies’ and began peering at the bottles.
The brownies waited impatiently. Oh, if only, only, only a bottle of their goodness could be found, they could go back to Brownie Town.
‘Ha! Here we are!’ said the Bottler at last, pouncing on a little yellow bottle. It had something written on the label that was stuck round it. The Bottler read it out:
‘“This goodness belongs to Hop, Skip, and Jump. It was made when they rescued a mermaid from the castle of the Red Goblin”.’
‘Oh fancy!’ said Jump. ‘I am glad we rescued Golden-hair!’
‘Dear me, here’s another bottle, too,’ said the Bottler. He picked up a little green bottle and read out a label.
‘“This goodness belongs to Hop, Skip, and Jump. It was made when they helped a little girl to escape from the Land of Clever People”.’
‘Buttons and buttercups!’ said Hop. ‘That’s two bottles to take back.’
‘And here’s a third bottle!’ said the Bottler suddenly, and picked up a red bottle.
‘“This goodness belongs to Hop, Skip, and Jump. It was made when they rescued the Saucepan Man from the Golden Dwarf ”!’ read the Bottler.
‘How perfectly lovely!’ cried Jump. ‘That’s a bottle each! How glad I am that we did help those people when we had the chance.’
‘Here you are,’ said the Bottler, handing them the bottles. ‘Take care of them, for they’ll take you safely back to Brownie Town. Now goodbye. I’m glad to have been of some use to you!’
‘Goodbye, and thank you very much,’ called the brownies, and hurried out into the passage with their precious bottles. The little mouse was outside, waiting for them.
‘If you like, I’ll show you a secret way into Witchland,’ he said. ‘I’d be pleased to help you any way I could.’
Hop hugged the kind little mouse.
‘Please show us,’ he said. He put his bottle into his pocket and followed the mouse up the passage.
The mouse ran down passage after passage, and at last went up a very steep one.
‘This leads into a witch’s house,’ he whispered. ‘There’s a big mouse-hole that comes out into the cellar. You can squeeze through it.’
‘Thank you,’ said Hop. ‘Tell me, little mouse, what is the name of the witch who lives here?’
‘Witch Green-eyes,’ whispered the mouse.
‘Witch Green-eyes!’ said the brownies in surprise. ‘Just the very witch we want!’
They said goodbye to the mouse, squeezed through the hole, and found themselves in a dark, smelly cellar.
‘Well,’ said Hop, ‘now we’ll soon see if we can rescue Princess Peronel!’
Their Adventure in the House of Witch Green-eyes
Everywhere was dark and the brownies had to feel their way carefully, in case they tumbled over anything. Suddenly they heard footsteps, and saw the light of a candle coming down some steps at one end of the cellar.
‘It’s the witch herself !’ whispered Hop in great excitement. ‘Keep still, whatever you do!’
Sure enough, it was Witch Green-eyes. The brownies could see her eyes gleaming green like a cat’s, as she walked down the cellar.
‘Now where did I put that barrel of gold?’ she muttered. ‘Surely it was somewhere in this corner?’
She was coming nearer to the brownies. They shrank back into the shadows in fear.
‘I must find that gold,’ they heard her mutter. ‘Now where is it? Ah! Here it is!’
She stopped just by them, and began jingling money in a barrel. The brownies kept as still as still.
The witch began counting out the money. ‘One-two-three-four-five.’
The brownies never made a sound. They held their breath and hoped the witch would soon go.
After she had counted out a hundred pieces of gold she picked up her candle, took the bag of money, and turned to go.
She shuffled her way across the cellar floor, muttering to herself. The brownies began to breathe freely again, for they felt they were safe.
But just at that moment something happened.
Skip put his hands over his mouth and nose, and held them tight.
‘Whatever is the matter?’ whispered Hop.
‘I’m going to sneeze!’ stuttered Skip.
Now the more you try to stop a sneeze, the bigger it is when it does come. And when Skip’s sneeze came, it was ENORMOUS.
‘A-TISHOO-SHOO!’ he sneezed, and nearly sneezeded his head off.
The witch dropped her bag of money in amazement and held her candle up to see whatever was in the cellar.
‘Quick – the mouse-hole!’ whispered Hop, and the brownies ran to where they thought it was.
But, oh dear me, they couldn’t find it anywhere, not anywhere at all.
The witch came down the cellar again, holding her candle up high, and looked as fierce as
ever a witch could look.
‘Ho! Ho!’ she said, as she saw the scurrying brownies. ‘And what are you doing here, I should like to know?’
‘N-n-nothing much,’ answered Hop, wondering wherever the mouse-hole was. ‘J-just looking for spiders, you know.’
‘Looking for my gold, more likely,’ growled the witch. ‘You wouldn’t be down in my cellar for spiders, you little squiggling brownies. You come along upstairs and I’ll show you a better place for spiders!’
She took hold of them and pushed them in front of her.
‘Up the steps you go,’ she cried, her green eyes looking more like a cat’s than ever.
The frightened brownies rushed up the steps and found themselves in a large kitchen.
‘Now,’ said the witch with a nasty sort of smile, ‘you’ll find plenty of cobwebs about my kitchen. Just go and look for spiders behind them, whilst I ask my black cat to tell me exactly what you were in the cellar for. It’s not much good asking you, I can see, as you seem to think of nothing but spiders.’
The poor little brownies had to go and poke about in the thick cobwebs that hung in the dark corner of the kitchen. They couldn’t bear it, for the spiders were large, and very, very creepy-crawly.
The witch called her black cat.
‘Cinders, Cinders!’ she cried.
In walked an enormous cat with eyes as green as the witch’s.
‘Sit in the magic circle, Cinders,’ said the witch, ‘and tell me the answers to my questions.’
The cat went and sat down in the middle of a circle chalked on the kitchen floor. It closed its eyes and swished its tail about.
‘Oh, Cinders,’ cried the witch, waving her stick over him, ‘tell me, I pray you, what has brought these three brownies here?’
‘They come to rescue the Princess Peronel,’ replied the cat in a deep, purring voice.
‘Nasty old tell-tale,’ whispered Hop to Skip. ‘Look out for that spider! It’s crawling up your leg.’
‘Ho! Ho!’ laughed the witch. ‘To rescue the Princess Peronel! That’s a great joke indeed! Now tell me, Cinders, does anyone in Fairyland know they have come here?’
‘No one knows,’ answered Cinders. ‘No one will ever know if you keep them here for ever.’
‘I don’t like that cat,’ said Skip. ‘It knows a lot too much for a cat.’
‘Ha, ha, ho, ho!’ laughed the witch again. ‘Thank you, Cinders. Now I know what to do with these horrid little brownies. I’ll put them in the High Tower with the Princess Peronel, and I won’t let them go till they have made her do what I want.’
She turned to the brownies.
‘Come,’ she said. ‘I will take you to the Princess you want to rescue. I will chain you up with her, and then you shall see whether it is an easy matter or not to come to Witchland and rescue a Princess held by Witch Green-eyes.’
She hustled them out of the room to where a spiral staircase ran up and up and up. The brownies climbed it, and thought surely it would never come to an end. But at last, after Hop had counted two thousand six hundred and eighty-four steps, he saw a low door in front of him, heavily bolted, locked and padlocked.
The witch unlocked and unbolted the door and pushed the brownies inside. There they saw a sight that made their hearts leap for joy – for the little Princess Peronel was in the room, sitting at a window looking longingly out.
She turned as they came in, and the brownies saw that golden chains were round her legs and bound her to a staple in the wall. It made them feel very angry and very sad at the same time.
‘Here you are!’ said the witch. ‘Here’s the Princess you came to rescue! Now just you make her do what I want her to do and I’ll set you free! If not, I’ll keep you here for the rest of your lives!’
She quickly slipped a chain round the legs of each brownie, so that they were bound to the wall like the Princess. Then she gave a wicked chuckle and went out of the door. They heard her locking and bolting it.
‘Hello,’ said the brownies to the surprised Princess.
‘Have you really come to rescue me?’ asked Peronel eagerly.
‘We came to Witchland to try,’ said Hop, ‘but the old witch caught us too soon.’
‘Oh dear!’ said the Princess sadly. ‘I wonder if I’ll ever be rescued. I’ve been here such a long time. You won’t try to make me do what the nasty old witch wants, will you?’
‘What does she want you to do?’ asked the brownies.
‘She keeps telling me I must marry the old wizard who lives next door to her,’ sighed Peronel. ‘He’ll give her a thousand bags of gold if I do marry him.’
‘Good gracious!’ cried Hop, as angry as could be. ‘How dare she ask you to do such a thing! We must certainly rescue you.’
‘But how?’ asked the little Princess. ‘I don’t think anyone could escape from this high tower!’
‘Besides, we’re chained up,’ said Hop mournfully.
Jump went to the window and looked out. They were certainly in a very, very high tower. The windows were barred too. The door was locked and bolted, and the prisoners were chained. It seemed hopeless. They would just have to stop there for always!
Hop went carefully round the room, with his chain clanking round his leg, and felt the walls and the door. They were all as solid as could be. The window, too, was far too high for anyone to hear them calling. All Witchland lay spread out below like a map.
The brownies sat down on the floor in despair.
‘Tell me how you came here,’ said the Princess. ‘I’ve been so dull here all by myself, and I’d like to hear your adventures.’
So the brownies began to tell them. They began at the beginning, and told of the Cottage without a Door, the Castle of the Red Goblin, the Land of the Giants, the Clever People and the Gigglers. Then they told her of Toadstool Town and their adventure on the Green Railway.
Peronel loved it all.
‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Tell me more.’
So they told her of the Saucepan Man, and how they had rescued him from the Dragon-bird and the Golden Dwarf.
‘And,’ said Hop, ‘we got an awful fright as we were going along the day after we had rescued him, because the Dragon-bird came again !’
‘Again!’ cried the Princess in horror. ‘Did it carry any of you away?’
‘No, it wanted its master,’ explained Hop, ‘and when it couldn’t find him, it said it would be our slave, and come whenever we wanted it, if only we’d call.’
‘Well,’ said the Princess, ‘why don’t you call the old Dragon-bird? It might help us, mightn’t it?’
‘Buttons and buttercups!’ squeaked Hop in excitement. ‘Oh buttons and buttercups! Fancy us not thinking of that! Oh, Princess Peronel, what a good thing you thought of it! Of course we’ll call the good old Dragon-bird! It might get us help, even if it couldn’t help us itself.’
The brownies were tremendously excited, and so was the Princess. Hop went to the window, and called out as loudly as he could:
‘Dragon-bird! Dragon-bird! Come to your new masters! We need you!’
They waited. Nothing happened. No sound of rushing wings came. Everyone felt very disappointed. Then Skip looked out of the window again. He gave a cry of delight.
‘I believe the Dragon-bird is coming!’ he called. ‘Look! Far away, ever so high up in the air!’
Hop looked. He saw a tiny black speck far away.
‘I’ll call again!’ he said. And once more he cried out to the Dragon-bird to come.
The speck grew larger and larger. Then zee-ee-ee! The Dragon-bird swooped down from the sky and landed with a thud on their window-sill.
‘Masters, I come!’ it croaked. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Listen, Dragon-bird,’ said Hop excitedly. ‘We are prisoners here. Can you find some way of saving us?’
‘Let me come into the room with you,’ said the bird. ‘I can talk with you better then.’
Cric-crac-cric-crac! It nipped each bar a
t the window with its strong beak, and broke them off one by one. Then, with the window clear of bars, the Dragon-bird hopped through the opening and stood on the table.
‘What a peculiar-looking bird!’ said the Princess, not at all afraid of the enormous creature. She went up to it and patted it.
The Dragon-bird shivered all over with delight.
‘Little lady,’ it croaked, ‘you are the first person
who has ever patted me! I will do anything to rescue you and your friends!’
‘Well, you can rescue us easily enough!’ said the Princess, patting the bird again. ‘Do you think you could manage to carry us away on your back?’
‘I don’t know,’ said the Dragon-bird doubtfully. ‘There are four of you. I’ve never carried more than one before. I’m not a bus, you know.’
‘No, you’re an aeroplane!’ said Hop. ‘Come on, Dragon-bird! Let us tie ourselves on to your back and go. The old witch may be back at any moment!’
The Princess patted the bird again. It was so pleased that it gave a crow of delight.
‘Good gracious!’ said Hop in horror. ‘What an awful noise, Dragon-bird! You’ll have the witch here in no time if you do that!’
‘What about our chains?’ asked Skip. ‘How can we get rid of those?’
The bird leant forward and took Peronel’s chains in his beak.
Cric-crac! It bit them in two!
‘My!’ cried Jump. ‘What a help you are, to be sure!’
Then the Dragon-bird bit all the brownies’ chains in two and they were free once more.
‘Now go to the window-sill,’ said Hop, trying to push the bird off the table, ‘and we’ll get on your back one by one.’
The bird hopped over to the window.
‘You needn’t tie yourselves on my back,’ it croaked, ‘I will make four strong feathers stand upright, and you can hold on to those.’
Peronel stood on a chair, climbed up on to the bird’s back, took hold of a fine strong feather and settled herself comfortably. The others followed.
‘Have we got everything?’ asked Hop, looking behind. ‘Our bottles of goodness are in our pockets, aren’t they?’
