could easily make one just the same. The children were so pleased. They hugged Chinky and said he was the cleverest person they had ever known. He always knew just how to get them out of any difficulty.
“Now, we’d better hide our own chair,” said Chinky. “Where shall we put it?”
“In the gardener’s shed!” said Mollie. “Gardener will be gone at five. We’ll put it there, then.”
So they did, and covered it up with sacks. Just as they came back from the shed, they met Mr. Knobbles carrying on his back a new chair, just exactly like their old one! It was simply marvellous!
“The quick-spell worked quickly!” he said. “Here’s the chair. You can bring me the money any time.”
The children thanked him and put the chair in their playroom. Then they waited for Mr. Twisty.
He turned up for it at half-past six, his straw hat in his hand, and the usual wide smile on his sly face. “Ah, there’s the chair!” he said. “Here’s the money! Thank you very much!”
He took the chair on his back, paid over the money and went, whistling a tune.
“Well, he’s got a marvellous pixie-chair for his money,” said Chinky, “but he hasn’t got a wishing-chair! He can sell that chair for twenty pounds, I should think—for Mr. Knobbles has made it beautifully—hasn’t used a single nail—stuck everything with magic glue!”
“And we’ve got our own dear chair still!” cried the two children, and sat down in it for joy.
Just then Mother popped her head in—and saw the chair! Chinky only just had time to hide himself behind the sofa!
“Why!” she said, “the chair isn’t sold after all! I’m quite glad, because it really is a pretty chair. I can’t imagine how I came to let you have it in your playroom. I think I will have it in the house. Bring it up with you tonight, Peter.”
Mother went away again. Chinky popped out from his hiding-place and looked at the others in dismay.
“I say!” he said. “That’s bad news. You’ll have to do as you’re told, Peter. Take the chair up to the house with you when you go tonight—and we’ll try and think of some way out of this new fix. Oh dear! Why can’t we have our own chair!”
So Peter took it up to the house with him—and Mother put it into the study. Suppose it grew wings there! Whatever would happen?
Two Bad Children
MOLLIE and Peter were very upset. Mother had got their wishing-chair in the study—and if it grew its wings there the grown-ups might see them—and then their secret, their great secret, would be known. Whatever could be done about it?
Chinky had no ideas at all. He simply didn’t know how to get the chair back into the playroom. If they just took it back, Mother would notice and would have it brought to the house again.
Peter and Mollie thought very hard how to get the chair for their own again—and at last Mollie had an idea. She and Peter ran down to the playroom to tell Chinky.
“This is my idea,” said Mollie. “It’s a very naughty one and we shall get into trouble—but I don’t see how we can help it. After all, it is our chair!”
“Go on, tell us your plan,” said Peter.
“It’s this,” said Mollie. “Let’s spill things over the chair—and tear the seat or something—and scratch the legs! Then, when Mother sees how dirty and scratched and torn it is, she won’t think it is good enough for the study—and perhaps we can have it back again!”
“I say! That’s a really good idea!” said Peter and Chinky together.
“But we shall get into trouble!” said Peter. “You know how Mother hates us to mess things—that’s why we have this playroom at the bottom of the garden— so that we can do as we like and not spoil things in the dining-room or drawing-room or study up at the house.”
“Well, even if we do get into trouble it will be worth it if we can get back our chair,” said Mollie. “I don’t mind being punished if we can only go for some more adventures.”
“All
“Now, we’d better hide our own chair,” said Chinky. “Where shall we put it?”
“In the gardener’s shed!” said Mollie. “Gardener will be gone at five. We’ll put it there, then.”
So they did, and covered it up with sacks. Just as they came back from the shed, they met Mr. Knobbles carrying on his back a new chair, just exactly like their old one! It was simply marvellous!
“The quick-spell worked quickly!” he said. “Here’s the chair. You can bring me the money any time.”
The children thanked him and put the chair in their playroom. Then they waited for Mr. Twisty.
He turned up for it at half-past six, his straw hat in his hand, and the usual wide smile on his sly face. “Ah, there’s the chair!” he said. “Here’s the money! Thank you very much!”
He took the chair on his back, paid over the money and went, whistling a tune.
“Well, he’s got a marvellous pixie-chair for his money,” said Chinky, “but he hasn’t got a wishing-chair! He can sell that chair for twenty pounds, I should think—for Mr. Knobbles has made it beautifully—hasn’t used a single nail—stuck everything with magic glue!”
“And we’ve got our own dear chair still!” cried the two children, and sat down in it for joy.
Just then Mother popped her head in—and saw the chair! Chinky only just had time to hide himself behind the sofa!
“Why!” she said, “the chair isn’t sold after all! I’m quite glad, because it really is a pretty chair. I can’t imagine how I came to let you have it in your playroom. I think I will have it in the house. Bring it up with you tonight, Peter.”
Mother went away again. Chinky popped out from his hiding-place and looked at the others in dismay.
“I say!” he said. “That’s bad news. You’ll have to do as you’re told, Peter. Take the chair up to the house with you when you go tonight—and we’ll try and think of some way out of this new fix. Oh dear! Why can’t we have our own chair!”
So Peter took it up to the house with him—and Mother put it into the study. Suppose it grew wings there! Whatever would happen?
Two Bad Children
MOLLIE and Peter were very upset. Mother had got their wishing-chair in the study—and if it grew its wings there the grown-ups might see them—and then their secret, their great secret, would be known. Whatever could be done about it?
Chinky had no ideas at all. He simply didn’t know how to get the chair back into the playroom. If they just took it back, Mother would notice and would have it brought to the house again.
Peter and Mollie thought very hard how to get the chair for their own again—and at last Mollie had an idea. She and Peter ran down to the playroom to tell Chinky.
“This is my idea,” said Mollie. “It’s a very naughty one and we shall get into trouble—but I don’t see how we can help it. After all, it is our chair!”
“Go on, tell us your plan,” said Peter.
“It’s this,” said Mollie. “Let’s spill things over the chair—and tear the seat or something—and scratch the legs! Then, when Mother sees how dirty and scratched and torn it is, she won’t think it is good enough for the study—and perhaps we can have it back again!”
“I say! That’s a really good idea!” said Peter and Chinky together.
“But we shall get into trouble!” said Peter. “You know how Mother hates us to mess things—that’s why we have this playroom at the bottom of the garden— so that we can do as we like and not spoil things in the dining-room or drawing-room or study up at the house.”
“Well, even if we do get into trouble it will be worth it if we can get back our chair,” said Mollie. “I don’t mind being punished if we can only go for some more adventures.”
“All
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