Necklace of Raindrops Page 2

  “After all,” Emma said to Aunt Lou, “he is a fairy cat.”

  “Fairy cat or no fairy cat,” said Aunt Lou, “he has very muddy paws!”

  Every night Sam left BLACK footprints all over Emma’s nice clean bed. On her sheets! And on her blankets! And on her pillow!

  So Emma made a gray mat from the fairy’s gray dress and put it on her bed. And Sam jumped onto it. But on his way he walked over the pillow and left BLACK footmarks before sitting on the mat.

  “Oh dear, Sam,” said Emma. “You should clean your feet on your mat. I wish you would. What will Aunt Lou say when she comes home and sees those black marks?”

  When Emma said, “I wish you would,” Sam stood up. He looked at Emma. Then he wiped his feet on the mat! Emma was surprised.

  “Why!” she said. “It must be a wishing mat. What else can I wish? I wish those black muddy marks were not on my pillow.”

  That very minute, Emma’s pillow was clean as clean. The black marks had gone.

  “Now,” Emma said, “I wish I had a big meat pie and some ice cream for Aunt Lou’s dinner when she comes home.”

  Just as Emma said this, Sam got up. And as Emma said the word ice Sam jumped off his mat.

  When Emma looked on the kitchen table there was a big meat pie and a lump of ice.

  “I wished for ice cream, not ice,” said Emma. “I wish the ice would turn into ice cream.”

  But the ice did not turn into ice cream.

  “I know,” Emma said. “The mat is only a wishing mat when Sam is sitting on it. Please, Sam, will you get back on your mat?”

  But Sam wanted to go out, and he jumped out of the window.

  “I will wish for more things when Sam comes back,” Emma said.

  But Aunt Lou came back before Sam.

  Aunt Lou was cross, because Sir Laxton Superb had told her he did not want her shabby old bus standing by his nice white wall.

  “You will have to move it to some other place,” he said.

  So Aunt Lou was worried. Where could they move their bus? Who could they get to help them? They were too poor to pay anybody. Aunt Lou was tired and sad, so she did not listen to what Emma was telling her.

  “Aunt Lou, I’ve got a wishing mat,” Emma said.

  “Yes, dear,” Aunt Lou said, but she was not really listening.

  “It gives wishes!” Emma said.

  “Yes, dear,” Aunt Lou said, but she was not really listening.

  “It cleaned my bed. And it gave us this nice meat pie!”

  “Yes, dear.” But Aunt Lou did not really hear what Emma was saying. She ate some pie, but she was worrying so much about how to move the bus that she never even tasted it. She might just as well have been eating bad-apple sauce!

  Aunt Lou did not tell Emma that they had to move the bus.

  Grownups do not always tell their troubles to children, but sometimes it would be better if they did.

  Sam didn’t come home all night. He went into the woods and played puss-in-the-corner with the squirrels. By the time he came home, Aunt Lou had gone off to pick apples.

  Sam jumped up onto his mat. Emma had been waiting for this.

  “I wish I had a toy!” she said. “A jump rope! And some balloons! And a ball! And a pair of skates! And a box of—”

  Just then Sam jumped off his mat again. A big red ball had rolled across the floor and he wanted to chase it.

  All the things were there that Emma had wished for. The jump rope. And the balloons. And the ball. And the skates.

  Emma had been going to wish for a box of paints, but Sam jumped off the mat before she had finished. So all she got was a big empty box. She put the skates in it.

  Emma had a very happy morning. She skipped and skipped and skipped. Then she skated and skated and skated. Then she played with the ball. Sam played with her. Then she played with the balloons. Sam did too. This was not good for the balloons.

  At last Sam and Emma were both tired. Sam went to sleep on his mat.

  “I wish I had a paint box!” said Emma.

  At once there was a big, lovely paint box on the table in the bus. There were many colors in it—red, blue, green, yellow, orange, purple—all the colors you can think of!

  “Oh, what lovely paints!” Emma said. “I shall paint a fine picture. I should like to paint the best picture in the whole world.”

  Emma looked for a bit of paper. But none of the bits of paper in the bus was big enough for the picture she wanted to paint.

  “I know!” she said. “I’ll paint a picture on the white wall.”

  So she started painting a picture on Sir Laxton Superb’s high white wall. First she painted all the part she could reach. Then she climbed on a chair and painted all the high-up part of the wall.

  What did Emma paint?

  She painted a picture of the orchard inside the wall—the green, green trees and the red, red apples. But as she had never seen it, she painted the apples many other colors as well—pink and yellow and blue and gold and orange. Under the trees she painted foxes and squirrels and rabbits eating bread and jelly. Birds were flying through the air, playing with balloons. Dogs were skating. Cats were skipping.

  It was a very fine picture—the finest in the whole world.

  And all the time, Sam went on sleeping on his mat. He was tired out.

  Then Aunt Lou came through the door in the wall.

  “Look, Aunt Lou!” Emma called. “Look at the lovely picture I’ve painted!”

  But after Aunt Lou came Sir Laxton Superb.

  “You must move your bus away at the end of this week!” Sir Laxton Superb was saying.

  And all the time, Sam was sleeping on his mat.

  Aunt Lou looked very worried. When Emma said, “Look at my lovely picture,” she said, “Yes, dear,” without looking. But Sir Laxton Superb looked. And his face went red—redder than the reddest apple you ever saw!

  “What have you done to my lovely white wall?” he said. He looked so cross that Emma thought he might go off bang like a balloon.

  “I’ve painted the best picture in the whole world on it,” she said. “Aren’t you pleased?”

  But Sir Laxton Superb was not pleased. Not at all pleased!

  “You must rub it all off again!” he said. “And you must leave at once! Today! This minute!”

  Aunt Lou began to cry. “But where can we go?” she said.

  “I don’t care!” Sir Laxton Superb said. (And Sam was still sleeping on his mat.) “I wish the wind would blow you and your shabby old bus up into the sky!”

  And Sam was still asleep on his mat!

  That very minute a great wind blew Aunt Lou, and Emma, and the bus, up into the air. Up they went, up, up, and up, till they landed on a fat white cloud. All the things in the bus fell about, but nothing broke. And, just think, Sam was still asleep on his mat. He was so tired after all those games.

  “Well!” said Aunt Lou. “I thought of living in plenty of places, but I never thought of living up in the sky! What shall we find to eat up here?”

  “That’s easy,” Emma said. And she wished for a roast chicken, and a big iced cake, and a jug of milk, and an orange jelly.

  For Sam was still asleep on his mat!

  After dinner they walked about on the cloud. It was soft— just like the hay in a hay barn. And they found lots of apples— because the wind had blown all the apples off Sir Laxton Superb’s trees. They were rolling about, all over the sky!

  From that day the trees in Sir Laxton Superb’s orchard never had any more apples. And although he tried to rub Emma’s picture off the wall, he couldn’t.

  “If Sam’s mat is a wishing mat,” Aunt Lou said, “we could wish our bus to be moved to California. Or Canada. Or Canton. Or the Canary Islands.”

  “Oh, no!” said Emma. “Let’s go on living up here.”

  And so they did. If you look up some dark night you may get a sight of the old bus shining away up there. And you are almost sure to see some of the apples.
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  THERE’S SOME SKY IN THIS PIE

  There was an old man and an old woman, and they lived in a very cold country.

  One winter day the old man said to the old woman, “My dear, it is so cold, I should like it very much if you would make a good, hot apple pie.”

  And the old woman said, “Yes, my dear, I will make an apple pie.”

  So she took sugar, and she took spices, and she took apples, and she put them in a pie dish. Then she took flour, and she took fat, and she took water, and she began to make pastry to cover the pie. First she rubbed the fat into the flour, then she made it into a lump with a little water. Then she took a roller and began to roll out the pastry.

  While she was doing this the old man said, “Look out of the window, my dear, see, it is beginning to snow.”

  And the old woman looked out of the window at the snow, coming down so fast out of the white sky.

  Then she went on rolling the pastry. But what do you think happened? A little corner of the sky that she had been looking at got caught in the pastry. And that little bit of sky was pulled under the roller, just the way a shirt is pulled into the wringer. So when the old woman rolled her pastry flat and put it on the pie dish, there was a piece of sky in it! But the old woman did not know this. She put the pie in the oven, and soon it began to smell very good.

  “Is it dinnertime yet?” said the old man.

  “Soon,” said the old woman. She put spoons and forks and plates on the table.

  “Is it dinnertime now?” said the old man.

  “Yes,” said the old woman, and she opened the oven door.

  But what do you think? That pie was so light because of the bit of sky in it that it floated out of the oven, right across the room.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” cried the old woman. She made a grab, and he made a grab, but the pie floated out of the door, and they ran after it into the garden.

  “Jump on it!” cried the old man. So he jumped on it and she jumped on it.

  But the pie was so light that it carried them up into the air, through the snowflakes falling out of the white sky.

  Their little black-and-white cat Whisky was in the apple tree, looking at the snow.

  “Stop us, stop us!” they called to Whisky. So he jumped onto the pie. But he was too light to stop it, and still it went floating on through the falling snow. They went higher and higher. The birds called to them:

  “Old woman, old man, little puss, so high,

  Sailing along on your apple pie,

  Why are you floating across the sky?”

  And the old woman answered:

  “Because we can’t stop, that’s the reason why.”

  They went on, and they came to a plane that had run out of fuel. So there it was, stuck in the middle of the sky. And the airman was inside and he was very cold. He called out:

  “Old woman, old man, little puss, so high,

  Sailing along on your apple pie,

  Why are you floating across the sky?”

  And the old woman answered:

  “Because we can’t stop, that’s the reason why.”

  “May I come with you?” called the airman.

  “Yes, of course you may.”

  So he jumped on the pie and went floating along with them.

  They went a little farther and they saw a duck who had forgotten how to fly. So there it was in the middle of a cloud. And the duck called:

  “Old woman, old man, little puss, and airman, so high,

  Sailing along on your apple pie,

  Why are you floating across the sky?”

  And the old woman answered:

  “Because we can’t stop, that’s the reason why.”

  “May I come with you?”

  “Yes, of course you may.”

  So the duck jumped on the pie and went floating along with them.

  They went a little farther and they passed a tall mountain. On the tiptop of the mountain was a mountain goat who had forgotten the way down. So he called to them:

  “Old woman, old man, little puss, and airman, and duck, so high,

  Sailing along on your apple pie,

  Why are you floating across the sky?”

  And the old woman answered:

  “Because we can’t stop, that’s the reason why.”

  “May I come with you?”

  “Yes, of course you may.”

  So the goat jumped on the pie too.

  Then they went a little farther and they came to a big city with high, high buildings. And on top of one of the buildings was a sad, cross, homesick elephant, looking sadly and crossly at the snow. She called to them:

  “Old woman, old man, little puss, and airman,

  and duck, and goat, so high,

  Sailing along on your apple pie,

  Why are you floating across the sky?”

  And the old woman answered:

  “Because we can’t stop, that’s the reason why.”

  “Your pie smells so warm and spicy, it makes me think of my homeland,” said the elephant. “May I come with you?”

  “Yes, of course you may.”

  So the elephant jumped on the pie and they went floating on. But the elephant was so heavy that she made the pie tip to one side.

  Now as they floated on, by and by they left the cold and the snow behind and came to where it was warm. Down below was the blue, blue sea, and in the blue sea were many little islands with white sand and green trees.

  By this time the pie was beginning to cool off, and as it cooled, it went down and down.

  “Let us land on one of these lovely islands,” said the old man. “They have white sand and green trees and ever so many flowers.”

  “Yes, let’s!” said the old woman, and Whisky the cat, and the duck, and the mountain goat, and the airman, and the elephant.

  But the people on the island saw them coming and put up a big sign that said NO PARKING FOR PIES.

  So they went a little farther and they came to another island. But the people on that island also put up a big sign that said NO PARKING FOR PIES.

  “Oh dear,” said the old woman, “will no one let us land?”

  By this time the pie was so cool that it sank down on the sea.

  “Now we are all right,” said the old man. “Our own pie makes a very fine island.”

  “There are no trees!” said the old woman. “There are no flowers! And what shall we eat, and what shall we drink?”

  But the sun was so warm that fine apple trees soon grew up, with green leaves, and pink flowers, and red apples. And the mountain goat gave them milk, and the duck gave them eggs, and Whisky the cat caught fish in the sea. And the elephant picked apples for them off the trees with her trunk.

  So they lived happily on the island and never went home again.

  And all this happened because the old woman baked a bit of sky in her pie!

  THE ELVES IN THE SHELVES

  There was a little girl called Janet, and it was her birthday. She had lots of presents. A little red bicycle. And a pair of roller skates. And a jump rope. And a big pile of books. But just the same, Janet was not very happy.

  Why? Because her mother was away, visiting her sick granny. And her daddy, who was a train driver, had to go off and drive his train. And so Janet would be all alone that night.

  Her daddy gave her a very nice supper—bread and butter and brown sugar and a drink of creamy milk. Then he tucked her up in bed and said, “Shut your eyes and go to sleep, and in no time at all it will be tomorrow and I shall be home for breakfast.” Off he went to drive his train.

  Janet shut her eyes, but then she opened them again. She did not like being alone.

  “Oh,” sighed Janet, “I wish I had someone to talk to.”

  Then she heard a queer noise. What could it be?

  Pitter-patter, tip-tap, scuffle-scuffle, rattle-rattle, pitter-patter. Janet listened. The noise came from the next room. There it was again! Pitter-patter, tip-tap, scuffle-scuffle, rat
tle-rattle, pitter-patter. Janet jumped out of bed and tiptoed to the next room.

  What do you think she saw?

  All her new books were opening, and all the creatures in them were coming out. There was a book about elves, and all the elves were running out of the book and playing leapfrog and climbing up into the china closet. There was a book about mermaids, and all the mermaids were swimming out and diving into the bath. There was a book about penguins, and all the penguins were waddling out and climbing up into the icebox. There was a book about seals, and all the seals were flopping out and pulling each other up into the sink.

  So when Janet looked, she saw

  elves in the shelves,

  mermaids in the bathtub,

  penguins in the icebox,

  rabbits in the coal bin,

  peacocks on the table,

  and seals in the sink.

  Wasn’t that a funny sight, enough to make you blink!

  “Who are all of you?” said Janet. “And what are you doing here?”

  “We have come to play with you so you shan’t be all alone!”

  Janet had never had so many playmates before. Who should she play with first? The elves in the shelves? They were playing football with a marble. Or the mermaids in the bathtub? They were floating on Janet’s sponge for a raft. Or the penguins in the icebox? They were sliding on a slippery bit of ice. Or the rabbits in the coal bin? They were playing hunt-the-thimble. Or the peacocks on the table? They were playing patience. Or the seals in the sink? They were playing splashing.

  First Janet played with the elves. Then with the mermaids. Then with the penguins. Then with the rabbits. Then with the peacocks. Then with the seals.

  Then she heard a voice behind her. It said, “Nobody wants to play with me!”

  Janet looked round. There stood a tiger in front of the fire. He had come out of the very bottom book of all. He was big, and he had long, long whiskers and a long, long tail, and he had black and yellow stripes all over.