The Fourth Pig by Naomi Mitchison Marina Warner Page A

Sable to come and help her. But as to Billy, after the witch had kissed him he went to sleep and began to dream about more and better trains and model aeroplanes and parlour-games and baby cinema sets and small-scale jazz bands and all the other things that the witch had put into his head with her enchantments.
    So now it was only Minnie Mouse who lay awake, biting her fingers and whispering for Sasha Sable and feeling the £ mark on her pyjama pocket burning and biting her. She was, as you might say, all alone, for that snoring little Billy wasn’t any comfort. And first it struck the half hour and then it struck the hour, and then there came a pattering and rustling of little furry feet, and all of a sudden the lighthouse went out and the ruby and emerald knobs stopped glittering, and Minnie knew that Sasha Sable had come alive again.
    â€œMinnie Mouse, Minnie Mouse!” said the little dusky beast, “did you let her kiss you?”
    â€œNo!” said Minnie. “Oh, where are you?” And she reached out in the dark till her fingers fell on and fondled his soft warm fur.
    â€œThen you can get away,” said Sasha Sable. “You’ve only got to follow me and I’ll show you the back door that they always forget to bolt.”
    Minnie jumped out of bed; she was beginning to be able to see in the dark. She pulled off the pyjamas and got back as quick as she could into her old patched vest and her serge knickers and frock, and her socks that were more holes and darns than anything else, and her old black shoes that had come from the Church Jumble, the same as her mother’s coat and about as bad a fit—but she didn’t mind that now. Then she began to shake her brother. “Billy!” she said, “Wake up, can’t you! Oh Billy, wake up!”
    But it was no good. Billy slept like a log, and when she bent right over close to him she could see he was smiling in a silly sort of way. Sasha Sable jumped onto the bed. “There’s only one thing to be done,” he said, “or else we’ll never wake him.” And he bit Billy’s finger with his sharp white teeth and then stuffed his tail into Billy’s mouth to stop him making a noise crying. But that woke Billy up all right, though at first he didn’t like being woke, for he’d been in the middle of dreaming that he’d got a bicycle and was riding it up and down an enormous shop full of toys and games, choosing things as he went along. Still, after he’d rubbed his eyes for a minute or two he began to see sense, and Minnie pulled off his pyjama jacket and helped him into his things. “Come along,” said Sasha Sable.
    Minnie was just coming when she stumbled over her parcel. “Oh!” she said, “can I take my work-basket?”
    Sasha Sable made a grumbling noise between his teeth. At last he said: “Very well. But mind, you can’t take the chocolates, Minnie Mouse, and that silly brother of yours can’t take his parcel; it’s too big.” And he looked round over his shoulder and said: “If you whine, Billy, I’ll bite you again. So there.”
    Then Minnie opened the door of the room and they all three went out. Sasha Sable trotted in front of them down the passage, which was still lighted up, though there was no one about. Seeing him like that, so small and pretty and unafraid, made Minnie stop being frightened too. She bent down and whispered to him: “Can’t Billy and me kill the old witch? The kids in the fairy tales always do.”
    â€œNot yet,” said Sasha Sable, cocking up his muzzle and bright eyes at her. “Next time, perhaps. If you’re a good girl and remember all about it and never let the witch get at you again.” And then he added: “You might as well take one of those lamp-shades away with you. Your Dad and Mum’ll thank you, and perhaps it’ll help you to remember.”
    So Minnie and