by Enid Blyton
Soon the Wishing-Chair had four grand green and yellow wings, much bigger than its old red ones. It waved them about proudly.
"You'd better get in the chair and go before it tries its new wings out by itself," said Great-Aunt Quick-Fingers. So in they all got, Chinky on the back, as usual—and off they went!
"Home, Chair, home!" cried everyone, and it rose high in the air, and flew off to the west. "Good¬bye and thank you very much," cried Chinky and the children, and Great-Aunt waved till they were out of sight.
"Well, that was quite a nice little adventure," said Peter. "And the chair's got some wonderful new wings. 1 do hope they'll always grow like this in future—big and strong, and all green and yel¬low!"
MOLLIE AND THE GROWINGOINTMENT
The children were very pleased with the chair's beautiful new green and yellow wings. "They're much better than the little red ones it used to grow," said Peter. "Your Great-Aunt's Growing Ointment is marvellous stuff, Chinky. 1 only hope the chair will grow its wings more often now."
The green and yellow wings disappeared, of course, as soon as they were all safely at home again. The chair stood still in its place, looking quite ordinary. The children patted it.
"Good old Wishing-Chair. Grow your wings again soon. You haven't taken us to the Land of Goodness Knows Where yet, you know!"
The chair didn't grow its wings again that week. Friday came, Saturday, Sunday, Monday. The chil¬dren grew tired of asking Chinky if the chair was growing its wings yet.
On Tuesday a spell of rainy weather began. It really was too wet to play any games out of doors at all. The children went down to their playroom day after day to play with Chinky, and that was fun. But on Friday Chinky said he really must go and see how his dear old mother was.
"I haven't seen her since 1 came back to you with the chair," he said. "1 must go to-day."
"Oh, bother! We shall have to do without you," said Mollie. "Just suppose the chair grows its wings, Chinky, and you're not here."
"Well, that's easy," said Chinky, with a grin. "Simply sit in it and wish it to go to my mother's. She will be very pleased to see you, and then we can all three of us go adventuring somewhere."
"Oh, yes—we'll do that, if only the chair grows wings," said Peter. "Well, good-bye, Chinky. Will you be back to-night?"
"Yes," said Chinky. "I'll be sleeping on the old sofa as usual, don't worry. I'm not taking my wand with me, by the way, so keep an eye on it, will you?"
Chinky had just bought a new wand, a very use¬ful one that had quite a bit of magic in it. He was very proud of it, and kept it in the cupboard with the toys and games.
"Yes—we'll look after it for you,' said Peter. "And we won't use it, we promise."
"I know you won't," said Chinky. "Well, see you to-night."
Off he went to catch the bus to his mother's cottage, dressed in his mackintosh and sou'wester. The children felt decidedly dull when he had gone.
"Game of ludo, Mollie? said Peter.
"No. I'm bored with ludo to-day," said Mollie.
"Well, you're not going to be very good com¬pany, then," said Peter, taking down a book. I'll read. You can tell me when you've finished being bored and we'll think up an exciting game."
Mollie lay down on the rug and shut her eyes.
What a pity it had rained and rained so long. Even if the Wishing-Chair grew its wings, it wouldn't be much fun going out in the rain. They would have to take an umbrella with them.
Mollie opened her eyes and looked out of the window. Why, the sun was shining—and yet it was still raining.
"I say, Peter, look at this rainbow," said Mollie. "It's glorious. Oh —wouldn't it be lovely to fly off to a rainbow in the Wishing-Chair! If it looks as beautiful as this far away, whatever would it look like very near to us? Oh, I do wish the Wish- ing-Chair would grow its wings this very after¬noon."
Peter took no notice. He was deep in his book. Mollie felt cross. She wandered round the room and opened a little cupboard where Chinky kept some of his things. There on the shelf was the jar of Growing Ointment that Great-Aunt Quick-Fin¬gers had given him to make the wings of the Wish-ing-Chair sprout again.
Mollie took down the jar and opened the lid. There was plenty of ointement left—yellow with streaks of green in it. She wondered if perhaps it would make the chair's wings grow again, although Chinky's Great-Aunt had said it only acted once on anything.
"I'll try it," thought Mollie. "And I won't tell Peter! If the wings grow, I'll fly off in the Wish- ing-Chair without him, and go to Chinky's alone. That will serve him right for not answering when I
speak to him!"
She went over to the Wishing-Chair and rubbed a little of the ointment on one of the front legs. Nothing happened at all. She couldn't feel even a tiny bud of a wing beginning to grow; the Grow¬ing Ointment certainly didn't act twice. Great-Aunt Quick-Fingers was right.
Then a wonderful thought came to Mollie. Why shouldn't she try a little of the magic ointment on something else? She looked round. Her dolls, for instance! Oh, if only she could make wings grow on Rosebud, her prettiest doll. That would be re¬ally wonderful.
Feeling very excited, Mollie took her doll Rose¬bud from her cot. She rubbed a little of the green and yellow ointment on to her back—and, hey presto, wing-buds began to form—and little green and yellow wings sprouted out on the doll's back.
And she suddenly left Mollie's knee and flew —yes, flew—round the playroom. She flew near Peter and he felt the wind of her little wings. He looked up—and his eyes almost dropped out of his head as he saw Rosebud flying gaily round the room!
Mollie laughed in delight and tried to catch the doll as she flew past. "I've put some of the Grow¬ing Ointment on her back," she said. "You know -what Chinky's Great-Aunt gave him for grow¬ing wings on the Wishing-Chair. And Rosebud grew wings!"
"Well, I never!' said Peter in amazement. "I say —do you think my engine would grow wings, too?" said Peter suddenly. He had a wonderful clockwork engine, a perfect model that he was very proud of.
"Oh, yes—let's try and see," said Mollie. So they got the engine and Peter smeared a little of the ointment on to it. It sprouted out small wings at once!
It flew from Peter's hand and joined the doll. The children laughed till their sides ached to see the two toys behaving like this. They really did look extraordinary.
And then Mollie and Peter went quite mad with the ointment. They smeared it on to a top and that flew round the room, spinning as it went! They smeared the skittles and they all shot round and round, some of them bumping into one another in the air.
They made some of the little toy soldiers fly, and they even gave the bricks in their brick box wings to fly with. All these things flapped their way round the room, and Mollie and Peter screamed with laughter as they tried to dodge the flying toys.
Mollie went to the toy cupboard to see if any toy was there that could be made to fly as well. She picked up Chinky's new wand and put it on one side—but, dear me, her fingers were smeared with the Growing Ointment and the wand at once grew tiny, graceful green and yellow wings, too! It flew out of the cupboard and joined the flying
toys.
"Oh dear—there goes the wand," said Mollie. "I do hope Chinky won't mind. I just touched it by accident with the ointment smeared on my fingers, and it grew wings."
"Look—I've made the teapot fly," said Peter, and roared with laughter to see it flapping its way round the room. "Look at the skittles colliding again."
The wind suddenly blew the door wide open. Then a dreadful thing happened. Rosebud the doll, the teapot, the wand; in fact everything that had grown wings shot straight out of the open door, flew down to the bottom of the garden and van¬ished!
"Ooooh!" said Mollie in fright.
"They've gone," said Peter, and rushed to the open door. But he could see nothing. No Rosebud was there, no engine, nothing. They had all van¬ished into the blue.
"Oh dear—shall we get the
m back?" said Mollie. "Why did I ever begin to smear the Grow¬ing Ointment on anything? It was a very silly idea. Now I've lost Rosebud."
"And what about my lovely model engine?" said Peter. "And I say—Chinky's magic wand has gone, too!"ssss
They stared at one another in dismay. Chinky's new wand, that he had saved up for and was so proud of! It had grown wings and now it had flown out of the door and vanished, too. This was dreadful.
"We shall have to tell Chinky when he gets back to-night, and ask him if we can possibly get the things back," said Mollie. "If we knew where they had gone we could go and fetch them. Do you sup¬pose they've gone to Great-Aunt Quick-Fingers?"
They said no more to one another, but sat sol¬emnly side by side, hoping and hoping and hoping that the things would fly back as unexpectedly as they had flown away. But they didn't.
Chinky came back at half-past six, looking very merry and bright, and bringing a big chocolate cake from his mother. He stopped when he saw their doleful faces.
"What's up?" he said. "Anything happened?"
They told him, and Chinky listened in aston¬ishment. He leapt to his feet when they spoke about his wand.
"WHAT! You don't mean to tell me you were silly enough to meddle with my wand—surely you didn't make my wand grow wings, too!"
"It was an accident," said poor Mollie. "I must have had some of the ointment on my fingers when I moved it—and so it grew wings, too. I'm so sorry, Chinky."
"Where have the things gone, Chinky?" asked Peter.
"I don't know," said Chinky. "I haven't the least idea. All I can say is—the next time the Wishing- Chair grows its wings, we'll have to tell it to go wherever the toys have gone—but goodness knows where it will take us to!"
OFF TO FIND THE TOYS
Chinky was gloomy and cross that evening. The children were sad, and felt ashamed that they had gone quite so mad with the Growing Ointment. They felt very guilty indeed about Chinky's wand.
"Will you come and tell us if the Wishing-Chair grows its wings again to-night, Chinky?" asked Mollie when it was time for them to go back to the house.
"1 might," said Chinky gruffly. "And I might not. I might go off by myself in it."
"Oh, no, don't do that," begged Mollie. "That would be horrid of you. Dear Chinky, please be nice and forgive us for losing your wand."
"All right," said Chinky, cheering up a little.
"I really do feel very upset about losing my doll Rosebud, you know," went on poor Mollie. "I feel just as upset about her as you feel about your wand."
"And I'm miserable about my engine," said Peter. "It was the finest I ever had."
"Well—we'll hope the Wishing-Chair grows its wings again to-night, then, and we can go and fetch everything," said Chinky.
"I'll come and tap on your windows if it grows its wings."
But Chinky didn't tap on their windows at all. The chair didn't grow any wings in the night.
Mollie sighed.
"Just when we so badly want it to fly, it won't grow wings! Now to-day we've got to behave nicely and be on our best behaviour, because Mother's got visitors. Perhaps we shan't be able to go down to the playroom at all."
At eleven o'clock, when the visitors had arrived and Mother was giving them coffee and the chil¬dren were handing round plates of biscuits and buns, Chinky appeared at the window.
He was horrified when he saw so many people there and disappeared at once. The children caught sight of him.
They looked at one another in despair. Now what were they to do? There was only one thing. They must do something to make Mother send them out of the room.
So Mollie suddenly spilt the plate of biscuits all over the floor, and Peter spilt a cup of coffee.
Mother looked vexed. "Oh, dear—how clumsy of you!" she said. "Go and ask Jane if she will please bring a cloth, Mollie. And 1 think you and Peter had better go now. I don't want anything else spilt."
"Sorry, Mother," said Peter.
They shot out of the room. Mollie called to Jane to take a cloth to wipe up the coffee, and then both children raced down to the playroom.
"I hope Chinky hasn't gone off in the chair by himself," panted Peter. "If he saw us with all those visitors he might think we couldn't possibly come - and then he'd fly off alone."
They got to the playroom door just as Chinky was flying out in the Wishing-Chair. They bumped into one another, and Peter caught hold of one of the chair's legs.
"Just in time!" he cried. "Help us up, Chinky!"
Chinky pulled them up with him. Then the chair flapped its green and yellow wings and flew strongly up into the air.
"I was afraid you wouldn't be able to come," said Chinky. "I was just setting off by myself. The chair had only grown its wings a few minutes be¬fore I peeped in at the window."
"What fine, big, strong wings it's got now," said Peter. "They make quite a draught round my legs. It will be able to fly faster now."
"Where are we going?" asked Mollie.
"I don't know," said Chinky. "1 just said to the chair, 'Go and find my wand, and Rosebud, and the rest of the toys,' and it seemed to know the place 1 meant, because it rose up at once. I've no idea where we shall land. I only hope it's some-where nice. It would be awful to go to the Village of Slipperies, or to the Land of Rubbish, or some¬where like that."
"Oh dear—1 hope it's somewhere nice, too," said Mollie. "The chair is flying very high, isn't it?"
"Do you think it may be going to Toyland?" asked Peter. "I wouldn't mind that at all. After all, most of the things were toys. I think it's very likely they may have gone there."
"It certainly seems to be taking the way to
Toyland as far as I remember," said Chinky, peer¬ing down. "I know we pass over the Village of Golliwogs before we reach Toyland, and we're very near that now. There's Toyland, far over there. That must be where we're going."
But it wasn't. The chair suddenly began to fly down and down at a great rate, and it was plain that it was going to land.
"Well! This isn't Toyland!" said Chinky in sur¬prise. "Good gracious! I do believe it's the school run by Mister Grim, for Bad Brownies. Surely the toys haven't gone there!"
The chair landed in the grounds of a big house, just near a wall. Chinky and the children got off. They pushed the chair under a bush to hide it. Then they looked cautiously round.
From the big building in the distance came a chanting noise. The children and Chinky listened.
"1 mustn't scream or whistle or shout Because Mister Grim is always about, I mustn't stamp or slam any door Or jump or slide on the schoolroom floor, I mustn't be greedy, untidy or lazy Because Mister Grim would be driven
quite crazy, I mustn't be slow, and I MUST be quick, Because Mister Grim has a very BIG STICK!" "Ooooh!" said Mollie. "I don't like the sound of that. That must be the poor Bad Brownies learn¬ing verses for Mr. Grim."
"Yes," said Chinky. "I do wish we hadn't come
here. I've half a mind to get in the Wishing-Chair and go off again. I've always been told that Mister Grim is a very hard master. We don't want to be caught by him."
"CaughtV said Peter. "But we're two children and a pixie—we're not brownies—and this is a school for brownies."
"I know," said Chinky. "I just don't like the feel of this place, that's all. If you think it's all right, we'll stay and see if we can possibly find where our toys are."
"I think we'd better," said Peter. "Well—what's the first thing to do?"
"Listen—is that the brownies coming out to play?" said Mollie as a perfect babel of noise reached them. Then came the sound of feet run¬ning and in a trice about fifty small brownies sur¬rounded them. They all looked merry, mischievous little fellows, too young to have grown their brownie beards yet.
"Who are you? Are you new pupils for this awful school?" asked a small brownie, pushing himself forward. "My name's Winks. What's yours?"
All the little brownies crowded round, listen¬ing eagerly. Chinky
pushed them back.
"Don't crowd so. No, we haven't come to your school. We came because we're looking for things we've lost, and we think they may be somewhere here. My name's Chinky. These are real children, Peter and Mollie"
"Well, be careful Mister Grim doesn't see you," said Winks. "He's in a very bad temper these days—worse than he's ever been."
"Why?" asked Peter.
"Because we found the cupboard where he kept his canes and we broke the whole lot!" chuckles the brownie. "Every one of them."
"Can't he slap you or smack you, though?" said Peter.
"Oh, yes—but we dodge," said Winks. "Can't dodge a cane very well, though. I say —do be care¬ful he doesn't catch you."
"What are you looking for?" asked another brownie. "I'm Hoho; you can trust me."
"Well, said Chinky, "we came here to look for a lot of flying toys—and my new wand. It had wings, too."
"Flying toys!" said Winks. "And a flying wand. Well! Have we seen anything like that, boys?"
"Yes!" shouted Hoho at once. "Don't you re¬member? Yesterday evening we saw something very peculiar—we thought they were curious birds flying about in the air. They must have been your toys."
"What happened to them?" asked Peter.
"Well, old Grim was out in the garden smoking his evening pipe," said Hoho. "And he suddenly looked up and saw them, too. He was very excited, and called out some words we couldn't hear"
"And what we thought were the peculiar birds came right down to him," said Winks. "But they must have been your toys on the way to Toyland!
He caught sight of them and made them come to him!"
"Well, whatever can he do with them?" said Hoho. "We are never allowed any toys at all. I sup¬pose he will sell them to his friend the Magician Sly-Boots."
"Oh dear," said Mollie. "Well, we must try and get them before he does. Will you show us where you think Mister Grim might have hidden our toys?"
"Yes, we'll show you!" shouted the brownies. "But do be careful you aren't caught!"
They took Chinky and the children to the big building, all walking on tiptoe and shushing each other.