“Oh I don’t mind,” said Frances, good-naturedly, and she went out quickly, glancing back only once to say, “But hurry, because I’m starved!”
Minx went over to the old bureau and gazed into the dirty, cracked mirror.
“Oh, beautiful lady,” she whispered, “please let me see you again!”
Immediately, the shining, tender face appeared. Minx turned around swiftly, and was enraptured to see the lovely creature standing there, smiling at her with deep kindliness.
Minx felt a great glowing warmth fill her whole body, and words she had never spoken before in her life spilled out. “Oh, I love you!” she said.
Then the lady held out her slender arms, and gathered Minx into them.
“At last the spell is broken,” she said, in a voice that was like clear streams and meadows bright with sunshine. “It’s rather a long story, and I don’t care to keep your good friends waiting.”
“Oh, don’t go away, please don’t go away,” begged Minx.
“I promise you will see me again very soon,” said the lady. “Believe me, my child. Now join your friends.”
It didn’t take Grandma long to get home; fortunately, because they all had so much of Madam Snickasnee’s equipment piled on top of them.
For lunch they had scrambled eggs, hamburgers, and gingerbread with whipped cream on top.
Then afterwards Grandma took Minx to town to buy her some clothes.
“I feel like a brand new girl,” said Minx, as they got back in the car with all their packages.
Suddenly she gave a squeal. “Oh, Grandma! There’s Mrs. Sputter!”
There indeed was Mrs. Sputter, marching down the street, surrounded by three little Sputters, all happily chattering and beaming. Mrs. Sputter, however, had a rather dazed look about her. When she saw Minx she gave a little scream, and clapped a hand to her plump bosom.
“Stay away from me! Don’t come near me, you witch child!” she shrieked.
Minx got into the car hastily, having no desire, anyway, to go near Mrs. Sputter.
Grandma, however, went up to her, holding out her hand.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Sputter. It’s too bad you were under that nasty spell. But I assure you that Minx had nothing to do with it.”
“Well, I suppose she didn’t,” said Mrs. Sputter, doubtfully. “I hear I was a flowerpot,” she added, with a shudder. “All I know is, all of a sudden I was sitting on that frightful woman’s filthy table in the midst of a lot of dirty dishes and a pot of stewed frogs. Ugh! I didn’t have any idea how I got there, but I can tell you I got home to my dear ones as fast as I could go! What an experience!” She fanned herself violently with a large lavender handkerchief.
“Yes, it was certainly terrible,” agreed Grandma, “But now everything is all right again, isn’t it?”
“Unless that horrible woman regains her former shape!” said Mrs. Sputter, in apprehension.
“Well, let’s worry about that when the time comes,” said Grandma. “But meantime Minx is going to live with us, and if you and the other people of this town could help her forget her former unpleasant associations, perhaps she could be happy for the first time in her life.”
“Yes, well, I guess you’re right,” said Mrs. Sputter, glancing at Minx, nervously. “I must be getting home now. Good-bye!”
That evening, Grandma confided to Frances that she was worried.
“I’m afraid the people here won’t forget that Minx was a witch’s child,” she said.
“Billy Martin was teasing her again today,” said Frances. “He was hollering Witch’s child, ol’ witch’s anteater!’”
“That boy!’’ said Grandma, shaking her head. “He should be kept too busy to get into mischief!”
“He ought to be put in jail,” said Frances, darkly.
After all the supper dishes were cleared away, Grandma got out her paints to do some more work on a landscape she had started about six months before.
“I just never seem to be able to finish this,” she said, “what with one thing and another.”
“And now you have six children, Grandma,” said George.
“That’s just fine,” said Grandma, smiling at Minx. “It’s always nice to have an even number, don’t you think so? Three boys and three girls, and now Frances has a sister near her own age.”
But before she even had any of her paints mixed, the bell rang.
“Now who can that be?” wondered Grandma; but all the children had already gone to find out.
As soon as the door was flung open, Minx gave a cry of joy.
“Oh! The beautiful lady!”
All the other children just stood there, mouths open in astonishment. They had never before seen anyone so lovely.
“Well, may I come in?” asked the lady, smiling.
“Oh, yes! yes!” cried Minx, catching her hand and drawing her inside.
“Oh, my!” said Grandma, when she saw the lady. “I know it’s not polite to make personal remarks, but I never saw anyone so beautiful as you, not even in my imagination!”
“Thank you,” said the lady. “And now let me tell you my name. It is Moonfire, and if you will all gather around me I’ll tell you a story.”
“Oh, a story! Goodie!” cried George and Alice.
“What kinda story is it?” demanded Jack. “Any cowboys in it?”
“Be quiet, children,” said Grandma. “Everyone sit down and be comfortable, and while Moonfire is telling the story I’ll get on with my painting.”
“Don’t you want to listen too, Grandma?” asked George.
“I can listen while I paint,” said Grandma. “Naturally I’d never want to miss a story.”
So the beautiful lady sat on the couch with Minx and the children crowding around her.
“In the first place,” she began, in her clear, sparkling voice, “perhaps you people should know that I am a fairy.”
They all shrieked. “But I thought fairies were teeny weeny things!” cried Alice.
“Yes, many of them are, but there are different tribes of fairies,” explained Moonfire. “I am a nymph, and nymphs are the same size as humans. Besides, they are really much better.”
“Why?” asked Minx.
“Well, I’m sure I don’t know,” said Moonfire, “except that we nymphs are all brought up to believe so. Anyway, you mustn’t interrupt. My story begins about eight years ago. I was walking through the woods with my child, who was just a baby then, when I happened to meet the witch Madam Snickasnee who was digging around for poisonous roots and herbs to use in her spells. As soon as I saw her I decided that the best thing for me to do was to hurry away as quickly as possible; but unfortunately she saw me. ‘Oh! A beauteous nymph!’ she croaked, sarcastically. ‘Why are you in such a hurry, fair creature? Don’t you like my company?’
“I should have kept right on going, but foolishly I turned around and retorted, ‘No, I don’t care for your company, and you’d better keep out of our woods, or the fairies will get after you!’
“‘Oh! A snippy nymph!’ she sneered. ‘Well, you’ll find you can’t get high-handed with Madam Snickasnee!’
“Then I hurried away; but it was that very night she stirred up one of her wicked brews; because I was awakened from my sleep by a vision of her bending over her pot, stirring, and cackling,
‘Boil and bubble,
Boil and brew!
Now I cast a spell
On you!’
“Then she said, ‘From now on I will take care of your child for you, and bring her up with a witch’s tender care. And you will never be able to speak to her until she says the words “I love you,” and after my training I doubt if she’ll even know such words!’ And then she gave that hideous laugh.
“Oh, how unhappy I was when I found my darling little girl missing, and knew that none of the fairies’ spells could break the old witch’s enchantment!”
Minx was staring at her with wide, shining eyes. “You don’t mea
n—Oh, it couldn’t be true! Is it really true?” Moonfire smiled at her lovingly. “Yes, Minikin, it’s really true. You are not a witch’s child at all. You are the daughter of a nymph; my own child!”
“Oh, my own mother!” cried Minx, and once more she was in the lady’s arms.
12
MOONFIRE
“But tell me one thing more,” said Minx, “Didn’t I see you in the courthouse this morning?”
“You did,” said Moonfire, “and it was I who changed Madam Snickasnee into an anteater.”
All the children cried out in astonishment.
“Of course you know that fairies are well acquainted with magic,” said Moonfire, “But what great good fortune when Madam Snickasnee told that lie in such a way that she played right into my hands! For perhaps you don’t know that when a fairy catches a witch in a lie, the fairy has her in her power!”
“But how long will the spell last?” asked Minx, anxiously.
“It’s a good strong spell,” said Moonfire, “and will last the natural life of an anteater. At the end of that time she will be provided with a handsome funeral of which any anteater might be proud.”
“So much has happened today,” sighed Minx, “that my head is in a whirl. I’m sure I’ll not get to sleep tonight.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll try, at least,” said Grandma, looking up from her painting. (She had a blue smudge on her nose which vividly brought out the blue of her eyes.) “And it’s past your bedtime right now. Moonfire can stay and visit with me while you children get to bed.”
“Thank you,” said Moonfire, smiling graciously, “but I think I should like to go to bed myself. It’s been rather a strenuous day. Casting spells can be so wearing!”
“You must come again soon,” said Grandma, warmly. “When would you like to take Minx back with you?”
“Oh, no need for that,” said Moonfire, airily. “I’m going to stay here, now. I’m quite sure you could put me up all right, couldn’t you?”
Grandma looked at her in frank amazement.
“Well, I—I do have an extra bedroom; but the house is a bit crowded right now, as it is—don’t you think?”
“You would certainly find it to your advantage to take me in,” said Moonfire. “Ï could go back to live in the forest comfortably enough, but I feel that since you were so kind to my child I owe it to you to stay here.”
Grandma looked more amazed than ever. She thought, “What a funny way to repay anyone, to go live with them!”
But she said, “Oh, you needn’t feel you owe me anything, Moonfire. Minx is a dear little girl, and it was a pleasure to take her in.”
“Well, and I’m sure it will be a pleasure for you to take me in, too,” Moonfire assured her. “But I am quite weary. Would you kindly show me my bedroom?”
The next day the news was all over town. Minx Snickasnee (now to be known only as “Minikin” which means “dainty and delicate”) was not the child of a witch, after all, but the daughter of a nymph, the most beautiful creature ever seen.
The newspaper published a long account of the whole story, on page one, and now no longer could Minikin be considered a witch’s child by anybody.
The mayor decided that the anteater, the former Madam Snickasnee, should not spend her days lolling at ease in the town zoo, but should earn her board and keep by cleaning out the ants in the ladies’ kitchens whenever they became overrun with the pests.
“All my wishes have come true,” said Minikin, as she and Frances walked home from school.
“Maybe because you’re a fairy’s child,” said Frances.
When they entered the house, Frances said, “My goodness! Something’s missing!”
“What?” asked Minikin.
“No scooter or skates lying around in the way! Everything neat as a pin!”
Grandma appeared in the living-room doorway, looking flushed and a bit dazed.
“Oh, girls, it’s you! My goodness, I don’t know whether I’m standing on my head or my feet! Do you notice how clean the house is?”
“Well, yes, we noticed,” said Frances.
“It’s all your mother’s doings, Minikin.”
“My mother?” cried Minikin, in surprise. “Does she like to clean house?”
“She doesn’t do anything but play on a musical instrument she calls a lute, sing like an angel, and tat lace that looks like spun moonbeams. But when she claps her hands, the whole place becomes full of little elves and fairies who clean up the place as quick as a wink. Some of them are in the kitchen right this minute making supper!”
Before the girls even reached the kitchen, they were surrounded by the most heavenly odors of food cooking—smells of turkey, cake, pie, gingerbread—every good smell anyone could ever think of. There were three fairies in the kitchen, all engulfed in frilly aprons, mixing, peeling, boiling, and baking furiously. One of them paused long enough to smile at the girls, but went right back to work.
Moonfire came into the kitchen. Whenever she entered a room, the whole place seemed to become illumined with a light clearer than sunshine.
Minikin ran up to her and threw her arms around her. “Oh mother! How wonderful you are!”
Her mother smiled lovingly. “Just think how hard you children worked with all those old powders to cause a fairy to appear, and I can bring in hundreds of them any time I want to!”
“From now on this whole house will be full of magic,” said Frances, “Good magic!”
“I found a much better use for the magic kettle than stirring up spells and strange creatures, too,” said Moonfire. “I have said the magic words over it to turn it into a soup kettle. From now on soup will always be bubbling in it—the most nourishing kind of soup you could imagine, as well as the most delicious. The kettle can never become empty, and now all the poor, hungry people of this town and from anywhere in the world can come here and have as much soup as they want. I feel that this will be a good work for me instead of just singing and playing on the lute. I’ll be pretty busy a good part of the time dishing up soup.”
“Not too busy to pay a little attention to me, I hope?” said Minikin, jealously.
“Never too busy for that, my darling,” said her mother, holding her close. “I have missed you so long that I have to make it up to you as well as to myself.”
“Oh gosh I don’t think another good thing could possibly happen!” sighed Frances.
“Yes it could,” said Moonfire. “I’m sure you won’t weep to hear that when Master Billy Martin came by today and started chalking up the front walk with rude comments concerning my daughter, I sent some elves out to settle him! They pinched him hard, and made him clear off all the words.”
“Hurray!” cried the girls.
“I think perhaps he won’t be bothering you any more,” added Moonfire. “I even have a strong feeling that he and his mother will move out of this town!”
“And how wonderful everything is for Grandma now,” said Frances. “She’ll be able to paint like mad from morning till night!”
Just then Bob and Jack came running in. “Oh, golly! Who do you suppose is coming up the walk, girls?”
“Who?” asked Frances.
“Judge Honk, Mr. Bunch, and Mr. Beanpot!” said Jack. “Do you suppose they’re gonna arrest Minikin again?”
“Maybe they’ve just come to call on my mother,” said Minikin, nervously.
Both Jack and Bob lost no time in answering the bell. They did not want to miss any arrests, even when they occurred in their own family.
“Good day,” said Mr. Beanpot, jovially, “would Miss Minikin be in?”
Timidly, Minikin came to the door.
”Miss Minikin,” said Judge Honk, bowing low, “we should like to make a request of you.”
“Yes, sir,” said Minx, questioningly.
“Miss Minikin,” said Judge Honk, “Mr. Beanpot, Mr. Bunch and I wondered—well, we’d consider it a great favor, Miss Minikin, if you’d be kind enough to let each
of us take a ride or two on your broomstick!”
Little Witch Page 6