The Wishing-Chair Again by Enid Blyton Read Free Book Online Page A

top to the bottom.”
    “I wouldn't mind going to the Land of Goodies at all,” said Peter. “It sounds really fine. I almost wish we'd told the chair to go there instead of the Land of Goodness Knows Where.”
    “Well, don't change its mind for it,” said Chinky. “It doesn't like that. Look, there are the Tip-Top Mountains.”
    They all leaned out to look. They were very extraordinary mountains, running up into high, jagged peaks as if somebody had drawn them higgledy-piggledy with a pencil, up and down, up and down.
    “A goat would have a good time jumping about in those mountains, but nobody else,” said Peter.
    On they went, through a batch of tiny little clouds but Mollie didn't try to catch any of these because, just in time, she saw that baby elves were fast asleep on them, one to each cloud.
    “They make good cradles for a hot day like this,” explained Chinky.
    After a while, Mollie noticed that Chinky was leaning rather hard on her shoulder, and that Peter seemed to be leaning against her, too. She pushed them back.
    “Don't lean so heavily on me,” she said. “You make me hot.”
    “We don't mean to,” said Peter. “But I seem to be leaning that way all the time! I do try not to.”
    “Why are we, I wonder?” said Chinky. Then he gave a cry. “Why, the chair's all on one side. No wonder Peter and I keep going over on to you, Mollie. Look—it's tipped sideways!”
    “What's the matter with it?” said Mollie. She tried to shake the chair upright by swinging herself about in it, but it always over-balanced to the left side as soon as she had stopped swinging it to and fro.
    They all looked in alarm at one another as the chair began to tip more and more to one side. It was very difficult to sit in it when it tipped like that.

    “It's because it's only got three wings!” said Chinky, suddenly. “Of course—that's it! The one wing on this side is tired out, and so the chair is flying with only two wings really, and it's tipping over. It will soon be on its side in the air!”
    “Gracious! Then for goodness sake let's go down to the ground at once,” said Mollie, in alarm. “We shall fall out if we don't.”
    “Go down to the ground, Chair,” commanded Peter, feeling the chair going over to one side even more. He looked over the side. The one wing there had already stopped flapping. The chair was using only two wings—they would soon be tired out, too!
    The chair flew heavily down to the ground and landed with rather a bump. Its wings stopped flapping and hung limp. It creaked dolefully. It was quite exhausted, that was plain!
    “We shouldn't have flown off on it when it only had three wings,” said Chinky. “It was wrong of us. After all, Peter and Mollie, you have grown bigger since last holidays, and must be heavier. The chair can't possibly take us all unless it has four wings to fly with.”
    They stood and looked at the poor, tired Wishing-Chair. “What are we going to do about it?” said Peter.
    “Well—we must try to find out where we are first,” said Chinky, looking round. “And then we must ask if there is a witch or wizard or magician anywhere about that can give us something to make the chair grow another wing. Then we'd better take it straight home for a rest.”
    “Look,” said Mollie, pointing to a nearby sign-post. “It says, 'To the Village of Slipperies.' Do you know that village, Chinky?”
    “No. But I've heard of it,” said Chinky. “The people there aren't very nice—slippery as eels—can't trust them or believe a word they say. I don't think we'll go that way.”

    He went to look at the other arm of the sign-post and came back looking very pleased.
    “It says 'Dame Quick-Fingers',” he said. “Isn't that good?”
    “Why is it good?” asked Mollie, in surprise.
    “Oh, didn't you know—she's my great-aunt,” said Chinky. “She'll help us all right. She'll be sure to know a spell for growing wings. She keeps a pack of flying dogs, you know,