Bed-Knob and Broomstick by Mary Norton Page A

know. But, as they've had a turn, I think
we ought to have a turn too. Miss Price can do as she likes for herself, but
we never said we'd give up magic."
"I don't see how we could manage it," said Charles, "not with
the bed in Miss Price's room."
Carey tossed back her braids. "I shall just go to Miss Price in a straightforward
way and ask her right out."
Charles, slightly awed, was silent.

       
"And there's another thing," Carey went on. "Do you remember
that when Miss Price gave us the spell, she said that if we turned the knob
backwards the bed would take us into the past? Well, I think she ought to let
us have one go at the past. After that, we could give it up-for a bit,"
she added, "though I don't see what all this giving up of magic does for
anybody. You'd think it might be used for the defense scheme or something."
"Carey!" exclaimed Charles, deeply shocked.

       
Carey, a little subdued, broke off a stalk of sorrel and chewed it pensively.
"I suppose you're right," she admitted after a moment. She had sudden
visions of dragons breathing fire and mustard gas and whole armies turning into
white mice. It would be terrible, unthinkable, to have one's brother, say, invalided
out of the army as a white mouse, kept for the rest of his life in a cage on
the drawing room table. And where would you pin the medals on a mouse?

       
"You see," said Charles, "Miss Price is quite right in some ways.
You can overdo things."
"I know," Carey admitted. "But I don't see how it would hurt
anybody if we just had a little trip into the past."
"Well, there's no harm in asking," said Charles.

       
They cornered Miss Price after supper. She listened to their argument; she saw
the justice of what they said; but she threw up her hands and said: "Oh
dear, oh dear!"
They tried to reassure her; they were very reasonable and very moderate. "Just
one more go, Miss Price, and after that we'll give it up. It's a pity to waste
the past."
"I don't like it," Miss Price kept saying. "I don't like it.
If you were stuck or anything, I couldn't get you out. I've burnt the books."
"Oh, no-" cried Carey, aghast.

       
"Yes, yes, I burnt them," cried poor Miss Price. "They were very
confidential."
"Can't you remember anything by heart?"
"Nothing to speak of. One or two little things. . . . Oh dear, this is
all my fault. I just wanted to see-out of simple curiosity-if spells wore out.
I never dreamed it would start all this up again-"
"Please let us try, Miss Price," urged Carey. "Just this once,
and we'll never ask again. We did keep our word, and you're not really keeping
yours if you don't let us just try the past. We never told anyone about your
being a witch, and now, if you won't let us use the spell again anyway, it wouldn't
matter if we did tell-"
"Carey!" exclaimed Miss Price. She stood up. Her eyes gleamed strangely.
Her long thin nose suddenly seemed longer and thinner. Her chin looked sharper.
Carey drew away alarmed.

       
"Oh, Miss Price," she muttered nervously.

       
"If I thought-" went on Miss Price, leaning her face closer as Carey
backed away-"if, for a minute, I thought-"
"You needn't think," cried Carey agitatedly. "We wouldn't ever
tell. Ever. Because we promised and we like ou. But," she added bravely,
"fair's fair."
Miss Price stared at Carey a moment or two longer; then, limply, she sat down
again in her chair. Her hands lay open on her lap. Tired, she seemed suddenly,
and sad. "Professionally speaking," she said, "I'm no good. I
should have put a rattling good spell on all three of you and shut you up once
and for all." She sighed. "Now it's too late."
Nervously Carey took Miss Price's limp hand in hers. "You needn't worry
about us," she said reassuringly, "you really needn't."
"And you were wonderful," exclaimed Charles warmly, "professionally
speaking."
"Do you really think so?" asked Miss Price