More Wishing-Chair Stories by Enid Blyton

the big jolly man across the field and through the hedge into their garden. Chinky was just as excited as everyone else. They all went into the playroom and Chinky lighted the lamp.
    “There you are,” he said proudly, holding the lamp over the old wishing-chair. “There's the wonderful chair. And look! It's grown its wings all ready to take you, Santa. It might have known you were coming.”
    Santa stared at the rose-red wings that were slowly flapping to and fro on the legs of the chair. His eyes shone in the lamplight.
    “Yes,” he said. “Yes. The very thing. I didn't know there was a wishing-chair in the world nowadays. May I borrow it, children?”
    “Yes,” said Mollie.
    "On one condition," said Peter suddenly.
    "What's that?" asked Santa Claus, putting his great bag over his shoulder.
    "Take us with you in the chair for just a little while, so that we can see how you slip down the chimneys and into the bedrooms," begged Peter. "Oh do!"
    “But will the chair hold all of us?” said Santa doubtfully. “I'm rather heavy, you know.”
    “Oh, the chair is as strong as ten horses,” said Chinky eagerly. “You don't know the adventures it has had, Santa. Get in, and we'll go.”
    Santa sat down in the chair. He filled it right up. He took Mollie on his knee. Chinky climbed to the back of the chair, where he always sat—and Peter sat on the sack of toys. The chair gave a creak, flapped its wings fast, and rose into the air.
    “We're off!” cried Mollie, in excitement. “Oh, who would have thought that we'd be flying to the house-tops with Santa Claus tonight. What a fine adventure we'll have!”
    The wishing-chair rose high into the air once it got out-of-doors. Mollie shivered, for the air was frosty. Santa Claus covered her up with part of his wide coat. They passed the elm tree where the sleigh and the reindeer had got caught. “Look,” said Peter. “There are your men freeing the reindeer from the branches, Santa Claus.”
    “Good!” said Santa. “They will be quite all right now. Hallo, the chair is flying down to this roof. Who lives here, children?”
    “Fanny and Tommy Dawson,” said Peter. “Oh, have you got presents for their stocking, Santa? They are such nice, kind children.”
    “Yes, I know,” said Santa, looking at a big notebook where many names were written down. “Ah! Fanny wants two twin dolls and a puzzle, and Tommy wants a train and some lines. Put your hand into the sack, Peter, please, and take them out.”
    Peter put his hand into the enormous sack, and the first things he felt were the dolls, the puzzle, and the train with lines! He pulled them out.
    “You might see if there are any oranges and nuts there too,” said Santa. “I always like to give a little extra something to good children.”
    Peter put his hand into the sack again and felt a handful of nuts, apples, and oranges. He gave them to Santa. The chair flew down to a flat piece of roof just by a big chimney. Santa put Mollie off his knee and stood up.
    “Watch me slip down this chimney!” he said—and in a second he was gone! It was astonishing how such a big man could get down the chimney.
    “Quick!” said Chinky, patting the chair. “Get in, Mollie. We'll fly the chair down to Fanny's window and peep in to see what Santa Claus does there. He won't mind.”
    The chair rose off the roof and flew down to a little window. It put two of its legs there and balanced itself most unsafely, flapping its wings all the time so that it wouldn't fall. Chinky and the children peered in at the window.
    Fanny and Tommy always had a night-light, and they could see the room quite clearly. Fanny was asleep in her cot, and Tommy was asleep in his small bed.
    “Look! There's Santa's feet coming out of the fireplace!” said Chinky excitedly. “Don't they look funny! And now there's his knees—and his waist—and all of him. It's funny he doesn't get black!”
    Santa Claus slipped right out of the fireplace and tiptoed to