Title: Peggy's Giant
Author: Hillyard, M. D.
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.


*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Peggy's Giant" ***


[Illustration: This is Peggy’s own drawing of what happened in the
first Adventure of the Ring. Everyone is very frightened in it. Nurse
has just sat down on seeing the Giant, and has dropped Peggy’s brown
holland frock behind her.

Peggy drew the frock very carefully, spreading it out flat on the floor
to get it exactly right. Mother helped her with the Giant’s knee, and
with the table. All the rest she did herself. She knows Nurse is too
small, but she was too busy getting her surprised enough to remember to
make her bigger. Peggy is behind the Giant wondering what to say. The
little round things near the Giant’s foot are the broken bits of the
cup and saucer, and the black dots are the currants in the cake. The
curls in the Giant’s beard were the most fun to do.]



  PEGGY’S GIANT

  BY
  M. D. HILLYARD

  WITH SEVEN FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR
  DRAWN BY PEGGY

  [Illustration]

  A. & C. BLACK, LTD.
  4, 5 & 6 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.1
  1920



  TO
  PEGGY



CONTENTS


  CHAP.                           PAGE

     I. WHAT PEGGY FOUND             5

    II. DISAPPEARING                 9

   III. A DAISY FIELD               15

    IV. THE SLEEPY GIANT            19

     V. SWEETS AND FAIRIES          22

    VI. FE-FO-FUM!                  28

   VII. PEGGY DRIVES A CAR          35

  VIII. THE MAYOR’S OUTING          39

    IX. DOWN!                       43

     X. PIXIE GAMES                 49

    XI. THE LAST ADVENTURE          54

   XII. THE NICEST WISH OF ALL      60



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR

BY PEGGY


  WHAT HAPPENED IN THE FIRST ADVENTURE OF THE RING        _Frontispiece_

  THE SECOND ADVENTURE                                  _Facing page_ 20

  WHAT THE DRAGON LOOKED LIKE WHEN NURSE SAID “YOU
    WOULDN’T DARE!”                                           ”       32

  PEGGY JUST TELLING THE MAYOR THAT THEY’VE STUCK             ”       40

  PEGGY AND THE GIANT GOING DOWN                              ”       46

  THE GIANT AND PEGGY AMONG THE PIXIES                        ”       50

  RIDING THROUGH THE VILLAGE IN THE SIXTH ADVENTURE           ”       60



PEGGY’S GIANT



CHAPTER I

WHAT PEGGY FOUND


“It rattles!” said Peggy, shaking the last cracker, and looking up at
Nurse.

“Well, pull it now, there’s a dear,” said Nurse, “and let me clear up
this litter.”

Peggy had just finished her birthday tea up in the nursery alone with
Nurse, as Mother was away. Of course it hadn’t been nearly so exciting
as her last birthday tea--the only one she could remember--which had
been downstairs with lots of other little girls and boys, who had all
come to see Peggy. They hadn’t talked to her or to each other much,
but had eaten lots of birthday cake, and Peggy had been taken up to
bed before the last of them left, because she had had such a long and
exciting birthday.

This year the only children who could come had suddenly started
whooping-cough, and so there was no party at all. Still it was better
than the usual dull nursery tea, for Mother had left a lot of crackers
with Nurse for Peggy; and Cook had remembered to put six new candles
on the new sponge cake, and they had all been lighted, and were doing
their very best to look brighter than the sunshine pouring in through
the nursery windows.

“Do guess what’s inside first, Nannie,” said Peggy, shaking the cracker
again. “_I_ guess it’s a little tiny cup and saucer for my doll’s
house. Now, _you_ guess.”

“Oh, _I_ don’t know--a whistle,” said Nannie, beginning to clear up
the pieces of brightly-coloured paper that covered the table-cloth and
floor, and that really looked a great deal too pretty to burn. “That’s
generally what it is. But what’s the good of guessing when you’ll know
in a minute? Come along and pull, I’m waiting.”

Peggy shut her eyes, and putting one hand over her ear--she was always
uncomfortably startled by the bang--pulled hard with the other.

The thing inside immediately flew through the air, and rolled away
under the toy cupboard. And Peggy followed as far as she could, lying
flat on the floor and peering under. Then--“O Nannie, it sparkles!” she
cried excitedly. “I do believe it’s a _beautiful_ ring! I can see it
quite plainly. Yes, it _is_. It’s a gold ring with a great big green
stone in it! There, I’ve got it! O Nannie, look how it sparkles!”

“A bit of tin and glass,” said Nurse examining it and dropping it on
the table. “What they want to put such rubbish in for passes _my_
understanding! You can’t play with it, and it’ll only get left about.
Now come and look at the paper blazing,” and she swept all the ends of
the crackers into the fire.

Peggy was terrified that her ring would follow too, and she began in a
great hurry to put it on all her fingers in turn to see which it would
fit.

“It won’t fit any of them except my fum,” she remarked. “But just look
how _well_ it fits my fum!” and she waved her left hand to and fro
proudly.

“You can’t wear a ring at _your_ age,” said Nurse decidedly, “and no
one ever wears them on their thumbs, as you very well know. Oh dear,
your hair ribbon’s coming right off, as usual! Come here whilst I tie
it on again.”

“Just look how it sparkles!” repeated Peggy, stroking the green stone
admiringly. And it certainly did. A bright green light spread from it
all over that part of the nursery, just like the light in a beech wood
in spring, when the sun is shining through the leaves; and it coloured
and played over Nurse’s face and the cupboard and the roses on the
wall-paper. “_Do_ look, Nannie,” cried the child, “now the fireplace is
green!”

“Very pretty,” said Nurse absentmindedly, not looking up as she brushed
Peggy’s curls. “What a tangle your hair’s in, to be sure! Now I think
I’ll take off this clean frock and put on your brown holland so that
you can have a good game with all your toys out at once, as it’s your
birthday.”

“Aren’t you going to play with me, too?” asked Peggy rather wistfully.

“I can’t,” said Nurse. “I’ve some letters to write, and post goes in
half an hour--when it’ll be your bedtime. Grown-ups can’t spend _all_
their time playing with little girls, you know. Here, slip your frock
off and stay by the fire, whilst I fetch in your other,” and she
bustled off into the night-nursery.

“I wish I was grown up,” said Peggy, twirling the ring round and round
her thumb and staring into the fire. “Then I should drink strong tea,
and eat birthday cake downstairs every day if I liked, and wear grand
hats with fevvers in them!”

“I’m ready whenever you are,” said a voice behind her.

Peggy turned round quickly, and then nearly jumped out of her skin with
astonishment.

For behind her, on the other side of the table, stood a Giant!

Peggy knew in a moment that he _was_ a real Giant, because he was the
living image of the one on page 375 of the Blue Fairy Book, but instead
of looking cross like that one does, he had a nice wide smile, and the
kindest round twinkly blue eyes Peggy had ever seen. He was dressed all
in brown, with bright scarlet stockings, his hair was thick and long,
and so was his beard, and the nursery was so much too low for him that
he had to bend nearly double, his great shoulders sending a cloud of
plaster off the ceiling every time he moved. In one huge hand he held a
cup of very black-looking tea, and in the other a bit of birthday cake
with sugar on it and almond paste and little silver beads.

“You _are_ a tall kind!” gasped Peggy, staring up at him. “I--I don’t
think Nannie will be at all pleased!” and she glanced fearfully through
the half-open door into the night-nursery.

“I know, that’s why I spoke,” said the Giant, sitting down on the
floor and stretching himself--one foot went right out of the window
in the process, and the other up the chimney, but he looked much more
comfortable. The cup of tea and the cake he put carefully down by his
side. “You rubbed the ring and wished, you know. How do you like your
dress?”

Peggy looked down at herself and discovered she was wearing a striped
white and yellow silk gown falling in heavy folds to the ground, and
very high-waisted. On her arm was hanging, by its ribbon, a large white
poke-bonnet, wreathed entirely around with a curling yellow feather.

“What _are_ these things?” she asked in bewilderment.

“Why, you wished to be grown up, didn’t you?” said the Giant. “And you
_are_. Or, at least, that’s the best I can do for you. But I’m a bit
out of practice I know,” and he gazed with a rather disheartened air at
the bonnet.

“I don’t know what Nannie will say,” said Peggy uneasily. (She hadn’t
the heart to tell the Giant that he hadn’t made her in the least the
kind of grown-up she wanted to be.) “She _never_ likes me dressing up!”

“Well then, wish about it,” said the Giant. “Say, ‘I wish Nurse to stay
away half an hour.’ Hurry up, she’s coming.”

“I wish Nurse to stay away half an hour,” said Peggy obediently. “But
what’s the good of that?” she added. “Here she is,” and so she was.

She came through the door hurriedly, with the frock in her hand, and
when she saw the Giant she jumped right up high into the air, and then
she sat down on the floor with a flop.

“_Who_ is this, Miss Peggy?” she asked in an awful voice.

“Dear me!” said the Giant, struggling to his feet and knocking over
the Rocking-Horse and three chairs in his hurry. “What _can_ have gone
wrong? The spells don’t work as they used to!” He looked at Nurse
nervously; then--“You must stick to me,” he whispered hoarsely to
Peggy, stepping back on the cup and saucer and grinding them to powder
with his heel.



CHAPTER II

DISAPPEARING


“He’s--he’s a friend of mine!” said Peggy bravely. She suddenly felt
very sorry for the Giant, for though he was so extremely big he seemed
somehow now just like a helpless baby. “He’s come to tea, Nannie,
because it’s my birfday.” (Peggy still talked baby language when she
got excited.) “And he’s brought a lovely bit of cake like you said
people had before the War,” she went on, pressing the ring tightly, and
wondering when Nurse _would_ speak. But the unfortunate woman continued
to sit on the floor, glaring wildly at the Giant, and opening and
shutting her mouth without a sound coming out of it.

“Oh dear, _I wish_ something would happen,” at last came from Peggy
desperately.

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she felt the Giant tuck
her under his arm and walk straight out of the window with her!

They went right over the garden and fields, the Giant striding along
through the air with the greatest ease, and at such a pace that often
the birds they met had no time to fly out of their way, and flew full
tilt against them.

“Phew! that _was_ a narrow shave!” said the Giant, stepping down at
last into the middle of a great wood. He put Peggy down on some soft
green moss, and leant against an oak tree, panting. “And after all, we
left the tea and cake behind!” he added.

Peggy looked up at him. His head was right up above the branches, but
she could see his long brown beard among the twigs.

“You squashed them both with your foot,” she said plaintively. “And I
don’t understand _anyfing_! Why did you come at all? Though I like you
very much,” she continued quickly. And indeed she had, from the very
first moment. For he had such a kind face--though it was not what you
would call a clever one exactly--and he was so different from every one
else, and looked as though he would play games nicely.

“I came because you wished,” said the Giant. “That’s a Fairy Ring,
that is. But it’s not once in a hundred years any children find it--or,
when they do, think of putting it on their thumb and wishing. By the
way, where was it this time?”

“In a cracker,” said Peggy.

“Ah, I know those crackers,” said the Giant. “One Fairy one to ten
million common ones is the average. Let me congratulate you! You’ll be
allowed six visits from me, and six wishes each time, before the Ring
disappears again. Very liberal, I call it.”

“Do you mean you can let me have everything I wish for, like what
happens in the Fairy stories?” asked Peggy in a state of great
excitement, and she began to jump about in a very un-grown-up way. “Oh,
I wish--I wish this tree was made of chocolate!” she screamed. (You
must remember she was rather over-excited, as it was her birthday.)

The Giant immediately handed her down a chocolate cream from one of the
boughs; and Peggy noticed a bright shade of brown creeping all over the
trunk and branches.

“Wish number three gone,” said the Giant with a sigh of relief. “Thank
goodness, _that_ wasn’t difficult. But I’m sorry to tell you I’ve
grown rusty, very rusty indeed! It’s so many years since I’ve had
anything of this sort to do, that I’ve forgotten how to manage the
simplest things.” He sighed deeply till the branches clashed together
over Peggy’s head. “I can see by your eye,” he went on gloomily, “that
there’s something not quite up to date enough about your dress. And
you must have noticed in the nursery that I’d quite forgotten how to
disappear quickly. I shall lose my nerve at this rate, I know I shall!”
and a large tear dropped at Peggy’s feet.

“Oh, no, you won’t!” said Peggy, putting her arms as far round one of
his ankles as they would go, and hugging it. (The chocolate cream had
been delicious, and she was in very good spirits.) “I’d have hated you
to disappear without me just now! Nannie would have been angry _anyhow_
at my dress--and you managed beautifully after! But you shall practise
disappearing now if you want to. We’ve lots of time, haven’t we? Go on.
Try.”

So the Giant tried and tried--and then he rested--and then he tried and
tried again, but it wasn’t the slightest good; he remained just as big
and brown and _there_ as ever. At last, with a stupendous effort, he
almost succeeded, though he still showed a bit where the sun shone down
against the trunk, whilst one of his huge boots remained quite visible,
standing forlornly on the grass beside Peggy.

“It’s no good,” he remarked, reappearing again with startling
suddenness. “_There_, I’m back again, you see, and I didn’t mean to be.
_Do_ use one of your wishes on it! Perhaps if I’d only disappeared once
in the proper way, I should get into the hang of it all again. You’d
better turn the Ring besides wishing, to make it more certain.”

Peggy did so, giving the Ring an extra turn in her zeal, and the Giant
rolled completely up, and disappeared in a twinkling, to her great
satisfaction. “That was _splendid_!” she cried. “You see it was quite
easy! Now come back and do it again by yourself”--but the Giant didn’t
answer at all.

A little cold wind blew right through the wood and rustled all the
chocolate oak leaves above Peggy’s head, and a squirrel up in the
branches threw a chocolate cream down on her, and then another, and
they both squashed on her striped silk dress. Peggy was not easily
frightened, but it all felt very lonely and queer, particularly as she
didn’t know in the least where she was. She jumped to her feet and
began running about the wood, shouting for the Giant as loudly as she
could.

It was only when she had been doing this for quite a long time, and
getting no answer at all, that she remembered that she had not wished
or turned the Ring. She at once did both, and, “_Don’t_ tread on me for
goodness’ sake!” said a squeaky voice near her foot.

Peggy looked down, and there amongst the leaves stood a tiny little
figure reaching no higher than her instep. It was only when she had
picked him up and peered closely into his face that she recognised the
features of the Giant, distorted with rage.

“Oh dear,” she cried, “what _has_ happened?”

“You should learn to manage your Ring better, before you treat me like
this!” said the tiny Giant in an exceedingly cross voice. “Put me on
a blade of grass at once, please,--thank you. I don’t like being held
round the middle like that. Why did you turn the Ring more than once?
I’ve never disappeared so uncomfortably fast before. And now look at
the size I am! This is all I can manage after such a shock!”

“Well, it’s not my fault,” said Peggy with some spirit. “You ought to
know the Ring better than I do. I only did what you told me!”

“I have got a broad outline of how the thing should be run,” said the
Giant. “But I can’t fill in the details. You will have to learn by
experience, I suppose.”

“What grand words you use,” said Peggy respectfully, but the Giant
didn’t look mollified at all.

“Now we’ve used up the five wishes (not counting the failure) so you’d
better wish yourself back in the nursery,” he said. “I don’t see that
you’ve had much fun, and I know I haven’t. Goodness knows how I shall
get back to _my_ house!”

“Oh, but I want to do lots more,” said Peggy. “I haven’t played at
being grown up at all yet, and I haven’t had any more chocolates!”

“Never mind, there’s no time left--wish yourself home,” said the Giant.
“Quick, now!”

He sounded so like Nurse at her crossest that Peggy hurriedly
obeyed,--and the next instant she found herself standing alone in the
nursery in her petticoat, and in the act of putting her ring into the
toy cupboard.

“You must be cold!” said Nurse, coming in. “I thought I’d never
find your old frock, and leaning over the drawer made me feel quite
faint-like! There! now have a nice game with your dolls,” and she
bustled over to draw the curtain.

“All the same I wish he hadn’t seemed so cross,” said Peggy to her
Golliwog. “The only really nice part was the chocolate cream.”

“What _are_ you grumbling about?” asked Nurse. “A chocolate cream,
indeed, at this time of night! I think, if you ask me, that it’s time
all little girls were in bed!” (She was _that_ sort of Nurse.)

“All right,” said Peggy, jumping up at once. She even began to unbutton
her frock and pull off her hair ribbon to Nurse’s great surprise; who,
of course, couldn’t know that all Peggy wanted was for the next day to
come quickly, so that she could see the Giant again.

“We’ll really find out the right way to manage the wishing to-morrow,”
she thought as she cuddled down into bed. “It isn’t the dear old
Giant’s fault if he’s forgotten things a little bit. It was really
very clever of him to think of that dress at all! It’s the sort
great-great-grandmother is wearing in the picture in the hall. Perhaps
she was one of the little girls he played with. Fancy him remembering
all that time ago, clever old thing!” She turned her head and stared
up at the ceiling, all golden with the firelight, and crossed with
black crinkly bars from the reflection of the guard. “All the same I
wish he hadn’t looked so cross,” she murmured, as she fell asleep.



CHAPTER III

A DAISY FIELD


Peggy sat curled up on the big window seat in the nursery reading
_Mary’s Meadow_. At least, you couldn’t call it exactly reading, but
mother had read out bits to her so often that she could remember most
of them by heart.

Nurse was down in the kitchen talking to Cook; and the rain was pelting
against the window-panes and the wind was blowing the trees all
sideways and flattening down the plants in the garden, and screaming
round and round the house trying to get in and blow Peggy about too.

Her little fat fingers moved along below the words as she read to
herself in a slow whisper:

“We went there for flow-ers; we went there for mush-rooms and
puff-balls; we went there to hear the night-in-gale.”

Peggy stopped, and looked out at the driving rain with a little sigh.
“I wish _I_ had a meadow of my very own!” she thought. And then she
suddenly saw a bright green light coming from the cupboard in front
of her, and at the same moment the Ring flew right through the wooden
door, and straight on to her thumb!

Peggy gave a little shout of delight.

“I wish I was in my meadow with my Giant,” she cried as fast as she
could, for she heard Nurse’s step on the stairs. “And picking daisies,
please,” she added, turning the Ring round, and rubbing it too, so as
to make quite certain lots would happen.

       *       *       *       *       *

“I’m perfectly delighted with this effect. My powers are returning, it
seems!” said the Giant, speaking in his grandest though tiniest voice.

Peggy rubbed her eyes and tried to open them wide, but the sunshine was
so dazzling that for a few seconds she was quite blinded by it.

Then she saw that she was in a great big green field, edged all round
with a tall green hedge; and growing amongst the grass in the field
were flowers, shaped like daisies of every kind and colour, big ones,
little ones, tall ones, short ones, white, blue, pink, red, yellow,
and purple ones, and even some of colours Peggy had only thought about
sometimes but knew no name for. And the most lovely scent--a sort of
mixture of honey and roses and pansies--came up from the whole field.

Peggy sat down amongst the flowers, clapping her hands. This was
something like a wish! But where was the Giant?

“May I _really_ pick a bunch?” she asked, looking towards the place
where she thought his voice had come from.

“Yes, only be very careful of me!” said the Giant, and Peggy felt
something tickling her hand.

She looked down and saw the Giant.

He was still very tiny, and was balancing on the yellow centre of
a scarlet daisy, and reaching up to prick her hand with a bit of
tasselled grass. He had a most roguish and good-tempered expression on
his little fat face, and the sun shone down on his curly beard till it
made it look quite golden.

“Oh, what fun it must be to be small like that!” said Peggy, clasping
her hands (she was so pleased to find the Giant wasn’t cross any
longer). “I wish _I_ could balance on a daisy too!”

She at once found herself standing amongst some thick bristling yellow
stalks, like corn, whilst all around her spread up curving blue walls,
stretching, it seemed, right up to the blue sky.

“What’s happened? Where am I?” she asked in a rather surprised voice.

“Balancing on a blue daisy,” said the Giant, jumping into the yellow
stalks by her side. And Peggy noticed that they were now both exactly
the same height. “Look out! Hold on!” he added excitedly, catching her
hand. “There’s a breeze passing over the flowers. We’re going swinging!”

A great rustling sounded in the distance, which suddenly burst into
a roar as a great wind swept by--and down they were flung on to the
huge silky walls as the daisy bowed its head. Then with a tremendous
jerk the flower righted itself, and sent them spinning off on to
another daisy. This one shook its head and slid them on to another,
and so on and on, half across the field, until at last, when they had
learnt to balance, and were swinging dizzily to and fro on a large
violet-coloured petal, the whole thing tilted more suddenly than usual,
and shot them down on to the ground below.

“Oh, wasn’t it _lovely_!” cried Peggy, looking up through the dim light
at the gigantic heads, still swaying to and fro amongst the great
blades of grass which looked as tall as trees. “What fun it is to be
tiny like this!”

“I’m getting a bit tired of it,” said the Giant ruefully. He had
knocked his knee on a little stone, and was sitting on the ground
rubbing it. “You left me this size yesterday, you know--and I couldn’t
remember the way to get back to my proper height! I think you’ll have
to use up a wish on me now. After all, you’ve got four left still.”

“All right,” said Peggy obediently. (Anything to keep the Giant in such
a good temper.) “I wish you were as tall as you were before.”

The Giant immediately shot up right through the grass and flowers, and
apparently disappeared, for Peggy found herself left by an enormous
black rock which barred the way, and quite shut out all the light there
was in that dark place. She at once began trying to climb it, so as to
find her way back to the Giant, but she had no sooner scrambled up the
first ledge, than a voice that filled the air like several claps of
thunder all sounding at once, bawled out:

“Get off my boot! I daren’t _move_. You can’t possibly stay as small as
that!”

“Oh dear, it’s you I’m on, is it?” exclaimed Peggy. “I quite forgot
that I was left so tiny! Now I must use up another wish, I suppose.
What dreadful waste!” And of course there was nothing for it but to do
so, as you can’t possibly have any fun with someone a million times
taller than yourself.

The next moment she was sitting among the flowers, once more her proper
size, with the Giant, once more _his_ proper size too, standing by her.

“And _now_, may I begin to pick a bunch for Mummie?” she asked.

“Certainly,” said the Giant. “There’s no one to stop you; they’re all
your own.” He sat down on a hedge near by, which immediately sank with
his weight, the trees that grew on it toppling down in all directions.
“There, now I’m comfortable,” said he, “and I think I’ll have a nap. I
never slept a wink last night.” And he lay down across what was left of
the hedge, closed his eyes, and started snoring at once.



CHAPTER IV

THE SLEEPY GIANT


“Poor Giant,” said little Peggy, climbing up the hedge to look down at
his round, good-tempered face, and wide-open mouth. “Sometimes he talks
so grandly, but he’s not a bit grand really. I’ll let him stay asleep
for a nice long time whilst I pick a huge, big bunch to send Mummie,”
and she jumped down into the field again.

“I’ve only two wishes left now,” she thought to herself, as she ran
in and out amongst the daisies. “Or really only one that’s any good,
for I suppose I must use the last to get me home. I really think,” she
went on, as she sat down to tie a bit of grass round a bunch of scarlet
daisies, “that the Giant ought to get me home himself without making me
waste a wish on it! I’m sure that’s always done in books. I’ll speak to
him about it when he wakes.”

The running about in the hot sun had made Peggy quite thirsty, and
after some searching she found a dear little stream running right
through the field, at which a lot of butterflies were drinking. It was
a beautiful golden colour, and when she tasted it she found it was the
most delicious lemonade, and it had crystallised rose leaves floating
here and there upon it. The butterflies flew round her in hundreds and
allowed her to stroke their soft red and blue and yellow wings, and
when she suggested a game of hide-and-seek they were all delighted, and
fluttered round in such quantities that she could scarcely breathe.

It turned out a failure in the end, as not one butterfly could be
induced to remain hidden long enough for the others to find him, but
was always flitting in and out of his hiding-place, which, as everyone
knows, completely spoils hide-and-seek.

However, they had a lovely romp, and it was quite a pretty sight to see
several hundreds of them chasing Peggy back to “Home” (which was the
Giant’s boot) after she had hidden.

“Oh, do let’s wake the Giant!” said Peggy, as they stopped for breath,
“and make him play too! I know he’d love it!”

They all gathered round the sleeping Giant, who was lying just as
Peggy had left him, snoring loudly, with his head comfortably pillowed
amongst the spreading roots of a fallen tree.

But do you think they could wake him? Not they!

Peggy climbed the hedge and tickled his face with a branch. Then she
tried to shake his arm, but of course couldn’t move it at all. Then
she begged the butterflies to help, and they all flew round him with a
great swishing of wings, making as much noise as they possibly could;
but still the Giant lay there snoring, for he was not used to being up
a whole night long, and was very, very tired.

A large blue and gold butterfly suggested pouring lemonade on to his
face, and they fetched a good deal between them all, but that wasn’t
the least good, and only slid on to his beard and made it very wet and
sticky.

[Illustration: This is the picture Peggy drew of the Second Adventure.
It was a very difficult one to do. The Butterflies are just coming up
in hundreds and hundreds to try and wake the Giant. Mother showed Peggy
how to draw the butterflies, but she did nearly all the rest quite by
herself. The Giant sometimes wore that red hat, and sometimes a green
pointed one. The Butterflies and Daisies were the most fun to paint. I
hope you see the Ring.]

“Oh, what _am_ I to do?” cried Peggy. “It’s not fair! I never heard of
such a thing happening in any Fairy Book! Nannie always lifts me out of
bed when I won’t wake up. I only wish she was here to do it to him!”

And then she could have bitten her tongue out, for the butterflies
suddenly wheeled round and flew away in a great cloud, and “He _is_ a
heavy weight, Miss Peggy,” said Nurse, appearing on the other side of
the hedge, her face very red and hot. “But I’ll manage it in a moment.
Now then, up with you! _There_ he is, great heavy thing! He ought to be
ashamed of himself, the big baby!”

Peggy felt dreadfully disappointed, and also rather angry, for though
she didn’t mind getting annoyed with the Giant herself, it was a
different thing hearing Nurse call him names. And now she’d wasted
another wish entirely by accident, and must use her last up as quick
as lightning, for Nurse was already beginning to look very puzzled and
suspicious.

“I wish we were back in the nursery,” she whispered to the Giant, who
was sitting up on the hedge, rubbing his eyes and staring at Nurse....
“And I’m very, very angry with you!” she added, as she found herself on
the nursery window-seat again. But she was only answered by a rattle of
raindrops on the panes.

       *       *       *       *       *

“You’ve dropped your nice book on the floor,” said Nurse, coming in
with a pile of aired linen in her arms and a deep frown on her face.
“You’ll have to go back to rag-books again if you serve _Mary’s Meadow_
like that!”

“Oh dear, I _quite_ forgot the bunch of daisies!” said Peggy, aghast.

“Now _what_ daisies, Miss Peggy?” asked Nurse. “I can’t have you
talking nonsense instead of attending to what I say. Pick that book
up immediately. And you’ve got that Ring on your thumb again, I do
declare! Mother wouldn’t like it at all, nasty common thing.”

“Oh, mayn’t I wear it _sometimes_, Nannie?” Peggy pleaded. “I _know_
Mummie wouldn’t mind. She always lets me wear the bead necklaces I
make.”

“No arguing!” said Nurse. “I’m going to put it in this cup on the
bookshelf, and you can ask your mother when she comes back. Time enough
to wear it then if she’ll let you.”

She _did_ seem cross. No wonder, for, though she didn’t know it, she
had just travelled very many million miles in about three seconds, and
that’s very upsetting to the temper if you’re not used to it.

And Peggy looked sadly at the cup, for it was far out of her reach even
if she stood on a chair.

“If I’d only had time to explain to the Giant!” she thought. “_He_
couldn’t help sleeping so soundly, poor thing. Now perhaps I shall
never see him again.” And she was very subdued indeed for the rest of
the day.

But she needn’t have worried. You see she kept on forgetting it was a
_Fairy_ Ring.



CHAPTER V

SWEETS AND FAIRIES


“And if you don’t get muddy, but pick your way nicely, we’ll go to the
village shop and buy a pennyworth of sweets,” said Nurse the next day,
when they started out for their walk.

“May I pick some primroses if I see them?” asked Peggy, dancing along.

There never were any on the high road, where Nurse generally chose to
walk, but still there was always the chance there _might_ be one day,
and it was well to get permission beforehand.

“Yes, if you like,” said Nurse absentmindedly. She was very busy trying
to see into a cab that had just passed, and didn’t really hear. Not
that it mattered. There never were any primroses.

“There’s one--at least I _fink_ there is!” said Peggy suddenly, when
they had nearly reached the village. She stood on the edge of the ditch
and peered up into the hedge. “Or is it a Fairy, perhaps? _Do_ look,
Nannie, it’s all white and shiny!”

“A Fairy indeed!” said Nurse, looking up too. “It’s an old bit of paper
blown up there. Be careful, or you’ll be in the ditch!”

But she was too late, for Peggy lost her balance--or the side of the
ditch gave way--and the next moment the two little gaitered legs were
half hidden in dark brown muddy water!

“_Very_ good!” said Nurse in a terrible voice. Then she dragged Peggy
out, and walked her back along the road towards home, saying nothing in
her most alarming manner.

Peggy really felt quite frightened.

“Nannie, you’re hurting my arm!” she said at last, trying to drag
her hand away. She hated the dry feel of Nurse’s black cotton gloves
pinched around her cold fingers. “Aren’t we going to buy any sweets
after all?” she went on.

There was no answer.

“Do you hear?” shouted Peggy desperately, and pulling harder.

“You should learn to do as you’re told,” said Nurse, taking a firmer
grip, and walking faster still.

Peggy pulled harder still. She was beginning to feel really naughty.
Besides, she knew it had been a Fairy, and who could think of stupid
old ditches then? Nurse _never_ understood.

“What _have_ you got on your thumb?” asked Nurse, suddenly stopping,
and dropping Peggy’s hand very quickly.

Peggy looked down, and there was the Fairy Ring sending out great
sparkles of green light all over the muddy road! She could scarcely
believe her eyes, and Nurse looked rather frightened.

Peggy felt there was not a second to lose.

“O Giant, I wish you’d take me away somewhere--and make Nurse nicer!”
she whispered in a great hurry.

       *       *       *       *       *

“You _are_ a oner, you are!” said the Giant admiringly. “You nearly
always ask for two things in one wish--but it never seems to
matter--you get ’em! Now come along, we’ve got to hurry.”

Peggy and the Giant were walking along a wide silver road. The hedges,
the gates, the trees, the flowers, even the birds that flew over their
heads, were silver, all sparkling and gleaming in the light of a big
silver moon in a blue sky. Peggy had never seen anything so beautiful,
and she looked up at the Giant with very happy eyes as she danced along
the road by his side.

“I shall always leave you to think of lovely places,” she said. “I
should never have thought of coming here!”

“It’s the Ring as well,” said the Giant modestly. “But we aren’t there
yet. Sit on my hand; we shall get there quicker that way.”

“Why, where are we going?” asked Peggy, jumping up and holding on to
his thumb.

“To Fairy-land,” said the Giant, stepping out briskly, “or at least to
one little bit of it. It’s only as a great treat, because you couldn’t
find a primrose, and never got your sweets. By the way, that _was_ a
Fairy in the hedge,” he added.

“I _knew_ it was,” said Peggy. “But Nannie _won’t_ see things
sometimes. Oh, look! what _is_ this coming?”

They had turned a corner, and saw far away above the hills something
that appeared to be a great blue cloud edged with gold, advancing
with a humming sound. As it came nearer Peggy discovered to her great
excitement that it was really a multitude of Fairies all dressed in
the palest blue dresses, their golden hair flowing out around them,
and on their heads silver crowns studded with bright blue stones; and
the humming sound was the rustle of their great blue wings which were
bearing them along at a tremendous rate.

They made straight for Peggy, led by a tall, beautiful Fairy, whose
blue dress was simply covered with sparkling stones. And there was
something in her pretty smiling face which reminded Peggy of someone,
but she couldn’t remember who. The next moment the Fairy was just above
the Giant’s head; then she dropped suddenly, and catching Peggy up by
the hand she and all the rest of the Fairies rose high in the air again
and flew off by the way they had come.

Peggy clutched the Fairy’s hand very tightly for some time, for they
were all going so fast that the rush of air made her feel quite
breathless. But when she was rather more used to it, she turned her
head to look at the Fairies following, and suddenly saw that she had
grown a magnificent pair of blue wings too!

She at once tried to flap them, and found she could do so quite well,
though rather jerkily at first, and the Giant--who was striding along
in the air just below her--looked up with a wide grin on his round face.

“Capital, capital!” he called out. “Well, how do you like flying?”

“It’s _lovely_!” shouted back Peggy. “You _do_ think of splendid
things! And so do you!” she added, looking up gratefully into the
Fairy’s face.

And then she gave a great start, for, of course, she saw now who the
Fairy was. She was Nurse!

Peggy gasped, and very nearly dropped right down. It was certainly
Nurse, but Nurse looking happy, Nurse looking pleased with Peggy, Nurse
seeming as though for once she was actually enjoying herself! It really
seemed too good to be true, and Peggy darted another glance of great
thankfulness down at the Giant.

“I’m glad you think it fun,” said Nurse, in a sweet, clear voice. “But
you needn’t flap quite so hard. Look, give long, steady sweeps like
this,” and she sprang forward even quicker into the air, and then
showed Peggy exactly how it was done, till she had learnt perfectly.

The land was changing below them, or they were much higher up. It was
sometimes bright and coloured like a rainbow, sometimes as red as fire,
and sometimes so dark that they could see nothing below them. Once a
terrible smell of smoke rose up, and Nurse called to everyone to mount
higher.

“What a dreadful place that was,” said Peggy, when they once more saw
the pretty rainbow land below them again. “Who lives there?”

“Ogres,” said Nurse, “heaps of them. I hate passing their way, but it’s
a short cut. That red country we passed just now was where the Dragons
live. They’re even worse, nasty ill-bred creatures! However, we’ve
passed them all now, and here we come down.”

They were right above a cleared space in a big black wood, and at a
signal from Nurse, all the Fairies paused, and, half folding their
wings, floated down amongst the trees. Peggy did so too, and balanced
on a large branch, closing her wings up neatly as she saw the others
doing.

“Now, each take a tree and begin,” called Nurse, who was flying about
looking happier than ever, “and after that we’ll have some games!”

Then Peggy noticed what extraordinary trees they were all perched upon.
For from every twig were hanging by silver strings the most fascinating
little tiny sugar animals and birds of every colour and kind--blue
elephants, mauve dogs, scarlet mice, yellow nightingales, and
everything else you can think of. And all through the wood she could
hear the Fairies calling and laughing to each other as they fluttered
up and down the trees and ate the pretty things.

“May I?” asked Peggy, her fingers closing round a purple sparrow, and
looking at Nurse who she hardly dared believe would be so changed as to
allow her to eat as many sweets as she liked!

“Of course,” said Nurse smiling--and Peggy had never realised before
how very nicely Nurse could smile. She also longed to tell her how
pretty she looked with her golden hair all flying loose in the air. But
she didn’t dare. “I advise you to try that pink cow just behind you,”
went on Nurse. “No, not that one, the very big one by the trunk. That’s
it. Now, _isn’t_ that good?”

It was certainly too lovely for words. It had the delicious taste that
a strawberry ice has before you’ve eaten too many at a party, and it
was also rather like pineapples and pear-drops and Tangerine oranges,
and yet it was far better than any of them.

Peggy soon got quite good at half fluttering, half balancing along the
branches like the others were doing, and trying each different sweet by
turn.

(I’m afraid this sounds rather a greedy adventure of Peggy’s, but it
wasn’t really, as it happened in Fairy-land, and there were enough
sweets for everyone, and no one felt sick when they’d eaten too many.)

She had just bitten a pink sugar rabbit in half, and found it tasted
just like meringues, when she remembered the Giant.

“Oh dear,” she cried, “where is the Giant? I’d quite forgotten him!”



CHAPTER VI

FE-FO-FUM!


Nurse looked very worried indeed.

“So had I,” she said. “We must have gone too fast for him!” And she
flew up on to the top of a tree and gazed away across the hills. “He
never _will_ let us lend him wings,” she went on, “so he always gets
left behind. He says his seven-leagued boots will last _him_ out all
right, and it’s no good arguing with him. Now, I expect he’s stuck
somewhere, or has stumbled upon the Ogres and had a fight.”

“What!” cried Peggy in great horror. “My Giant fighting? Oh, he’d
_sure_ to be beaten. What shall I do?” and she fluttered to and fro in
great distress.

“Why, wish he were here, of course,” said Nurse. “You’ve five wishes
left still, haven’t you?”

Peggy wished at once, and the Giant came crashing through the wood,
upsetting the sugar trees in all directions.

“Oh, look!” said Nurse. “_How_ careless you are!” (But she didn’t say
it a bit in her old cross way.) “Plant those trees again before you do
anything else!”

The Giant looked terribly knocked about and woebegone, and his coat was
all in tatters, but he did as he was told at once, balancing the trees
up again, and stamping in their roots well, like Peggy had seen the
gardener do with his plants. Then he sat down on the ground and wiped
his hot face with his pocket-handkerchief, and the Fairies all stopped
eating sweets to hear what he had to say.

“Phew!” he gasped, “I’ve had an awful time! Whatever possessed you all
to go at such a pace?”

“Well, I like that!” said Nurse. “When it was you who asked us to get
to the sugar-wood before dark!”

“I wish I hadn’t now,” said the Giant. “Trying to catch you up I
stumbled right into the middle of the Ogres, and I’d no sooner got away
from them--after having my coat torn half off my back--than I stepped
plump on to the Red Dragon, and you know what _that_ means!”

“Dear, dear!” said Nurse. “Was he very vexed?”

“Vexed!” said the Giant. “He was in such a hideous passion that he
made after me as fast as he could waddle--and then he started gliding.
I was up in the air in a moment, I can tell you, striding along for all
I was worth, and when he saw he couldn’t catch me from the ground he
took to his wings and flew! And when a Dragon uses his wings--well--you
know what you’ve got to expect! He’s after me now--and the Ogres are,
too!” he added resignedly.

“Oh, they’ll never find you here!” said Nurse. “The Ring brought you
along faster than any Ogre or Dragon could travel.”

“I thought an Ogre was almost the same as a Giant?” Peggy whispered to
Nurse.

“Good gracious, no!” said she. “Don’t let the Giant hear you say
that! They’re a set of vagabonds and ruffians who haunt the edge of
Fairy-land. The kind with one eye in their foreheads, and the sort who
say ‘Fe-Fo-Fum.’ You _must_ have read about them? They can’t harm us
Fairies, but any Giant, especially a really nice good one like yours,
makes them simply _mad_!”

Peggy slid off her branch and flew to the Giant, perching on his
shoulder and stroking his hair.

“I’ll take care of you,” she said, “if they _do_ come. Don’t you be
afraid! He’ll be all right, won’t he?” she added, turning to the
Fairies.

But they were not listening.

They had all flown to the tops of their trees and were balancing on the
topmost branches, bending forward and listening intently. For there was
a soft humming, grumbling, hissing, bleating, gurgling sound coming
from somewhere very far away!

“That’s the Ogres,” said Nurse, looking very grave--and the sound got a
tiny bit louder.

Then a little cold, tinkling, rippling, singing, shivering, clinking
sound began as well--so faint that it was just like a funny little
whisper, and “That’s the Dragon and he’ll be here first!” cried all
the Fairies together, looking graver still, and they began to flutter
round Peggy and the Giant, staring at the Ring, which was winking and
flashing long green darts of light over everything and everybody.

“What shall I wish?” asked Peggy, glancing at the Giant, who was
obviously too tired out to move another step. (The sounds were every
second getting louder and louder.) “I--I should rather like to see
them,” she added shyly, “if I can make the dear Giant _quite_ safe.”

“Wish me to be invisible,” said the Giant wearily. “Then I shan’t have
to get up. I’ve been practising it, so you won’t have any difficulty.”

“Yes, that’ll do nicely,” said Nurse. The noise had suddenly become so
loud that Peggy could hardly hear her. “And you get as much behind the
trunk as you can,” she went on to Peggy at the top of her voice, “and
I’ll sit on a branch in front of you and hide you. If they _do_ see
you, you’ve only got to wish yourself invisible too.”

The noise had now changed to the rattling kind that a million luggage
trains would make if they were all driven along in a row at once, and
Peggy could hear tree after tree crashing to the ground. She had only
just time to wish, and see the Giant disappear completely, when a great
red creature plunged down through the branches above into the open
space in front of the Fairies, and fell on his side, quite close to
Peggy’s tree, lashing his tail and panting like a dog.

Tongues of red and blue fire flashed and darted up and down his scaly
back, and his scarlet wings spreading across the grass withered it up
at once. Peggy did feel glad she hadn’t missed the sight! But she took
the precaution to wish that he should not crush the Giant, in case
invisible Giants _could_ be crushed.

In a few seconds the Dragon rolled on to his little short stubbly feet
and waddled up to Nurse.

“Where’s the Giant?” he lisped in a high and very soft voice. “I
_know_ he’s somewhere here, and I’ll flatten down every one of your
sugar trees if you don’t tell me this minute!”

There was really something very frightening in his little polite voice!

“You wouldn’t dare!” said Nurse, laughing scornfully. “Run along and
look about for him! He must be somewhere, as you rightly remark,” and
she turned her back on him and began to nibble at a sugar bird.

The Dragon raised his eyebrows ironically, but finding Nurse was not
looking at him any longer, he began to trot and glide about the wood,
sticking his long red tongue under the fallen trees to lift them up,
and hissing to himself more and more when he couldn’t find the Giant
anywhere.

(And all the time the sound of the Ogres coming got louder and louder
and louder!)

“There’s some magic going on!” said the Dragon at last, angrily,
raising himself up on to the very tip of his tail and glaring over the
tree-tops. “Ha, ha!” he added, “here come the others at last,” and he
stretched out two welcoming paws to the two enormous Ogres who at that
moment crashed into the wood.

Peggy nearly tumbled out of the tree in her excitement, for this was
worth seeing indeed! One of the Ogres had only one eye in the middle of
his forehead, just as she’d thought he would, and he did nothing but
say “Fe-Fo-Fum!” over and over again, and stamp and growl and snarl.

The other one had three heads which all looked different ways, and he
kept gnashing his three lots of teeth and snorting at the Dragon, who
_would_ go on smiling at him.

Then both Ogres advanced upon Nurse, brandishing their clubs.

[Illustration: Peggy drew this to show what the Dragon looked like
when Nurse said, “You wouldn’t dare!” Nurse is on the left and is just
going to eat her sugar bird. Peggy is up above peeping from behind the
tree. She wanted to draw the Ogres too, but there wasn’t any room.
Mother only helped her with some of the branches, everything else she
did by herself, and the Fairies took ages to do. They are sitting on
the boughs eating the sugar animals and birds. It made the Dragon
=furious= to see they weren’t afraid of him a bit. Those long
things on the ground are the trees he knocked down, and the bits of red
are the fires he started with his red-hot paws. The Giant is invisible
sitting on the grass, just behind the Dragon’s tongue.]

“We went miles out of our way!” they roared. “Where’s he gone to now?”

Nurse looked them over calmly from head to toe.

“Take your caps off this moment,” she said severely. “I _think_ you
forget who you’re speaking to!”

They looked rather cowed for the moment, and took their caps off
sheepishly without saying a word, though the Dragon’s chuckle was
enough to infuriate anybody. (The Ogre with the three heads had of
course to take off three caps.)

“That’s better!” said Nurse. “Now, what _do_ you want?”

“The Giant, of course,” growled the Ogre with one eye. “Fe-Fo-Fum!
Fe-Fo-Fum!” and he trampled up and down restlessly.

It was more than Peggy could stand.

“Oh, _do_ go on with the verse!” she called out imploringly, leaning
forward right out of the tree. “You’ve said that line over and over
again, and it’s not _nearly_ all! You _must_ remember how it goes on:

  ‘Fe-Fo-Fum!
  I smell the blood of an Englishman!
  Be he alive----’”

but she got no further, for with a scream of triumph the Dragon flung
himself forward and seized her tree right up by the roots, and the
nearest Ogre at the same moment plucked her out of it by his finger and
thumb.

“Quick, Miss Peggy!” screamed Nurse, and Peggy did wish quick, ... and
found herself back on the old muddy high road again, being dragged
along it by Nurse. “For if you don’t hurry a bit more,” she went on,
“you’ll catch your death of cold in those wet socks.”

Peggy burst into tears. Nurse was no longer a bit like a nice Fairy,
and it was all such a dreadfully sudden change, and everything felt so
very flat. Even the stone in her Ring looked small, and as dull as a
pebble.

“Oh dear, oh dear!” she sobbed. “And we never got to the games at all!
And I’ve still got one wish left that I never used. Now it will be
wasted!” and the tears poured fast down her cheeks.

Nurse looked down at her in astonishment, for Peggy never cried.

“What’s come over you all of a sudden?” she asked.

“I _wish_ you were always nice like just now,” sobbed Peggy, quite
forgetting Nurse never remembered anything about the adventures. “We
were having such a _lovely_ time! And then you went and made me leave
at the most exciting bit.”

“I don’t think it’s very exciting to stand in a muddy ditch!” said
Nurse, but her voice had all at once become very soft and gentle. “But
never mind, Miss Peggy dear. I’ll tell you the story of the Three Bears
now if you like, then we shall soon get home. And perhaps there’ll be a
letter from Mother; I shouldn’t wonder!”

Peggy could scarcely believe her ears, for except in Fairy-land Nurse
never really talked like that. Her tears were forgotten very quickly,
for Nurse went on being like it all the rest of the day, laughing and
playing and romping with Peggy right up till bedtime, and even a little
while after!

Peggy _couldn’t_ make it out.

You see she never noticed that she _had_ used up her sixth wish after
all.



CHAPTER VII

PEGGY DRIVES A CAR


“What’s that whizzing, Nurse?” asked Peggy, as she was picking a bunch
of double snowdrops in the garden the next afternoon.

“A motor, I expect,” said Nurse, who was talking to the gardener--and
she ran to peep down the drive through the bushes. “Callers, I’ll be
bound. Yes, here it comes, a big red car. There’s a fat lady in behind,
and a girl chauffeur driving it.”

“Let’s see,” said Peggy, pressing into the bushes too.

Nurse was not quite like she had been the evening before, because,
of course, Peggy’s wishes never lasted on to the next day, but still
she wasn’t _nearly_ as cross as usual, and she had been playing
hide-and-seek with Peggy quite half the afternoon, until the gardener
came up to talk.

“Now they’ve heard your Mother’s not here, and are going away again,”
Nurse went on. “There, look! They’ve stuck at the difficult turn, and
the engine’s stopped! My, doesn’t that girl look cross? Get back, Miss
Peggy, they’ll see us! Now you can hide once more if you like before
tea. I’ll just finish giving John the message about the vegetables.”

“I wish I knew how to drive a motor,” thought Peggy longingly, as she
trotted off to hide behind some laurels. “I’d go like the wind, and
wouldn’t stop at any corners----Why--what’s happened?”

For she was driving the big red car as fast as lightning down the
drive!

“You never noticed you had the Ring on!” chuckled the Giant. “Well
turned! Never mind the gate-post.”

He was sitting at the back, but with his legs sticking right out in
front beyond the bonnet; and his elbows kept knocking great pieces out
of the hedges as they whizzed along.

“What’s--what’s happened to the fat lady and the chauffeur?” gasped
Peggy, clutching the steering-wheel for dear life, her cheeks scarlet,
her hair streaming out behind her.

“I put them out in the drive,” said the Giant. “I expect they’ll follow
us if they want to.”

“Weren’t they angry?” asked Peggy, bumping over a sheep because she
didn’t know how to stop the car. “Oh dear, did I hurt him?”

“He’s all right, he’s up again,” said the Giant, turning round. “The
Ring won’t let you hurt anything or anybody however much you knock
into them. Angry? Oh, I really hadn’t time to stop and see. It’s all
forgotten afterwards, you see. Look out for this corner. Oh well, never
mind, we may as well be out of the road as in it!” For the car, not
having been turned quick enough, had neatly leapt the hedge, and was
now speeding across a ploughed field.

“Let her out, let her out!” said the Giant. “You said you wanted to go
fast, I thought. Go on, let her out!”

Peggy didn’t know exactly what he meant, or what to do, but she
whispered a wish that they might go still quicker, and the car rose in
the air and raced along just a little above the level of the hedges.

“I think this is lovelier than anything we’ve done at all!” she shouted
back to the Giant. “Oh, look! we’re coming to a town, I do believe! I
wish I could drive through it just as though I was a real chauffeur. It
would be so _grand_!”

“Steady, steady! Wishes don’t grow on blackberry bushes,” cried the
Giant warningly, but at once the car slowed down, and dropped into the
high road, and Peggy found herself dressed exactly like the girl she
had seen, and driving slowly along at the rate of about fifteen miles
an hour. At first she tried to steer the car herself, but when she
found that it guided itself when left alone, and that the horn sounded
and the gear changed much better by themselves, she leant back and
amused herself by staring at the people, and then at the shops, as they
reached the principal streets of the town.

Suddenly she noticed that all the people they passed were beginning
to behave in the most extraordinary manner, some of them racing away
down side streets, screaming, others beginning to chase the car
and shout at the top of their voices. Once they came on a line of
policemen all standing in a row across the road with notebooks in their
hands, but the car made very short work of them, scattering them in
all directions, and though Peggy turned round and saw them picking
themselves up at once and evidently not hurt in the very least, such a
roar went up from the crowds in the streets that she asked the Giant in
great perplexity why they were all so angry. Hadn’t they ever seen a
lady chauffeur before?

“I expect it’s partly because of me,” said the Giant comfortably. “I
knocked a piece right off the General Post Office just now with my
elbow. You’d better rise again, I think.”

Peggy wished--but to her horror nothing happened, except that the car
began to slow down, and crowds and crowds of people from all directions
at once pressed around it, shouting and shaking their fists at the
Giant.

“Goodness me!” said the Giant, who had no sooner pushed away one lot
than another came up. “The Magic’s gone wrong again! Turn the Ring
quickly!”

Peggy did so, and the car rose with an awful jerk into the air and
began to twist in and out amongst the chimney pots in an aimless sort
of way till the Giant nearly toppled out, and Peggy felt quite giddy.
At last she seized the wheel and tried to steer, and really felt they
were making a little headway, when suddenly, without any warning,
the car made a dart upwards, and then dropped on to the top of an
ornamental steeple crowning the new Town Hall, where it stuck, the
wheels turning madly.

“Now we _are_ in a fix!” said the Giant uneasily. “I thought I’d
remembered all about the wishing by now, but I’ve made a hash of it
this time, and no mistake. You’d better wish we were safely home again.
I can always manage _that_.”

“No, thank you!” said Peggy. “I did that yesterday before I’d used up
all my wishes. I’m not going to do it again. I don’t mind it up here at
all; I think it’s rather fun!”

“_That’s_ not much fun!” said the Giant, looking down out of the car.

Peggy looked too--and could not help giving a little jump. Packed in
the Square below them was the first crowd she had ever seen, and it was
really rather frightening. Everybody was looking up and shouting and
waving, and there was no doubt at all that they were very angry indeed.
Still, in spite of the muddles the Giant so often made, Peggy always
felt perfectly safe with him.

“I _can’t_ hear what they say,” she said, “all talking at once like
that! Do call down and ask them to speak clearer. They’ll hear _you_.”

But the Giant was shaking with fright, and trying to hide himself under
the seat, which, considering he was many sizes too big for the car,
looked a hopeless task.

“Better leave them alone,” he muttered. “They’ll only get angrier still
if we answer them.”

At that moment Peggy noticed a little fat man in a long red gown making
his way through the crowd. Behind him came two men carrying a long
ladder. This they put against the Town Hall, and the little fat man
climbed to the top, and then off on to the roof just below the car. He
was purple in the face with breathlessness and rage.



CHAPTER VIII

THE MAYOR’S OUTING


“That’s the Mayor, that is,” said the Giant in a terrified whisper, and
he practically stood on his head in his efforts to wriggle part of his
face under the seat. “If there is one thing that frightens me more than
another it is a Mayor! I remember in 1615, or thereabouts--but that
will keep till another time. Do you think he can see me? Can’t we go on
_now_?”

“Certainly not!” said Peggy. “I want to hear what he’s going to say. He
can’t _do_ anything to us, you know. Really, I think this is the best
adventure of all!”

“Hi!” called the Mayor. “Go on this moment, or we’ll make you!”

“We can’t!” shouted Peggy. “We’re stuck! A bit of the spire’s come
right through the car!”

“Nonsense!” shouted the Mayor, “you can get off perfectly well if you
choose. The spire wasn’t built for the likes of you to go trapesing
about on. Get off it!”

“We _cant_, I tell you!” cried Peggy, losing all patience. “Come up and
look for yourself! Come on, climb on to the Giant’s boot!” For by this
time the Giant had given up trying to hide himself, and was sitting on
the car with his legs dangling into space, and looking the picture of
misery.

“Stretch your foot down a little more,” said Peggy to him. “There,” as
it dangled just above the Mayor’s head, “now jump this instant!”

“I won’t!” said the Mayor, ducking his head as the great boot hovered
above it. “I never heard of such proceedings in my life!” He leant over
the edge of the roof. “They _won’t_ go on!” he shouted to the crowd
below.

“Make ’em!” came in a perfect roar from the Square.

“Come along,” said Peggy coaxingly. (It would be something, she felt,
to tell Nurse when she got back that she had had a real live Mayor in
her car. Besides, it would be fun for him. But she wasn’t going to use
up a wish on it. Peggy had grown very wary by this time.)

The Mayor stood looking very undecided, but when he saw the crowd
beginning to shake their fists at him as well, he gave a jump, caught
the Giant’s boot, and raised himself into a sitting position on the toe
of it.

“Will you promise to do your best to get off if I come up and have a
look?” he asked in a shaking voice.

“Of course we will,” said Peggy soothingly.--“Don’t look such a big
frightened baby!” she added reprovingly to the Giant.--“Draw your boot
up gently. There, that’s right”--as the Mayor was sidled carefully off
into the front seat; “_now_ I wish we could go on!”

[Illustration: This is a painting of the Fourth Adventure. Peggy is
just telling the Mayor that they’ve stuck. She’s rather afraid the
Giant will fall out in a minute, that’s why she’s holding on to his
back. You can see by her face she isn’t a bit frightened of the Mayor.
This was Mother’s favourite picture. The Mayor was very difficult to
draw, but he looked =just= like that Peggy said. None of the crowd
had on red jackets really, but Peggy thought they looked pretty in a
picture. You see the Ring, don’t you? Peggy quite forgot about the
Giant’s red stockings till the picture was finished!]

The car shook itself all over, then leapt upwards, and once more set
off at breakneck speed, but this time straight upwards into the sky!
Something at the same moment fell out with a heavy flop. Peggy turned
her head hastily, just in time to see the Giant falling through the air
behind them. But the car was rising upwards at such a pace that the
next moment he and the whole town disappeared from view!

“_Stop!_” said a frightened voice at her side, and she turned and saw
the Mayor, whom for the moment she had _quite_ forgotten. His face was
no longer purple, but as white as a sheet.

“I can’t!” said Peggy. “I’ve only one wish left, and that’s got to take
me home. You asked me to get off the spire, you know, and I _have_! The
Giant’s wearing his seven-leagued boots, so he’ll soon catch us up when
he gets balanced again.” She skirted the edge of a pink sunset cloud
as she spoke, and drove right up through a lemon-coloured one. “Oh,
how lovely!” she went on delightedly. “I got a great chunk of it in my
mouth, and it tasted just like pineapple. Did you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the Mayor. “We’ve just
been through an awful fog, and I insist on you stopping the car at
once. If you can’t--and I see you don’t understand the first rudiments
of driving--I can!”

He leant across her and seized the steering-wheel, but it at once came
off in his hand, rolled down his arm, and jumped out of the car.

“_There!_” said Peggy triumphantly, to the now speechless Mayor. “See
what comes of meddling!” (She felt quite like Nurse when she spoke
like that.) “Never mind, my car goes just as well without _that_ bit!”
and she leant back in her seat and crossed her arms grandly. “The only
thing I’m worrying about,” she went on, “is, if the Giant will ever
find us! You don’t see him coming, do you? Look down through the hole
in the car.”

“Unless you stop, I shall jump out,” said the Mayor in a desperate
voice. And he stood up and really looked as though he meant to!

“Oh, _do_ sit down,” said Peggy. “You spoil everything. Just look,
we’re going right on to this rainbow, I do believe! Yes, we’re on the
purple part. Isn’t it a lovely smooth road? There, now, we’re off it
and on the pink bit! Oh, why _don’t_ you sit still and love it all as I
do?”

“Because I’m going to get out,” said the Mayor, stepping over the door
and lowering himself slowly till only his hand holding the step, and
his very reproachful face showed themselves. “Now then,” he added,
“you’ve only got till I count five; I shall let go then--perhaps”--he
added in a whisper, being a truthful Mayor, but very softly so that she
shouldn’t hear.

“Oh dear, it _is_ mean of you to make me use up my last wish so
soon!” said Peggy in a very vexed voice. “And I managed this drive
especially for you, to make up for our having spoilt the Post Office
and things.--Oh, very well,” she added crossly, as the Mayor reached
four, and let go one hand, “I wish you were home and I was too, because
you simply spoil everything when you won’t play properly!”...

“If I do, it’s not for you to say so, Miss Peggy,” was the reply, and
Peggy found herself back in the garden again facing a rather red-faced
and angry Nurse. “Just because I stop to speak to John for one moment,
is no reason for you to think yourself neglected! I’m sure I never
heard you call you were ready, so how was I to know? Then you come
bouncing down on me like that!”

“Why, Nannie, did I bounce?” asked Peggy, very much interested. She had
wondered before what her return looked like when the wishes were over.

“Don’t repeat my words,” said Nurse crossly. “I was meaning the way you
spoke, of course. How could you bounce down from behind the laurels?
Now, come along into tea at once.”

“O Nannie, I’ve had such fun!” said Peggy, dancing along the path. “I
went _up_, and _up_, and _up_----”

“There!” exclaimed Nurse. “One moment it’s grumble, grumble, the
next all the other way! I won’t have you climbing trees either in
hide-and-seek. You can’t expect to be found if you act like that.
Now--not another word----”

“I’m afraid the Giant’s dreadfully lost this time!” thought Peggy, as
she washed her hands for tea. “I don’t fink I was very kind to him! I
do wonder if the fat lady minded the big hole in the car, and the wheel
being lost. Oh, but I suppose that all comes right again, just as she
forgets that the Giant sat her down in the drive! It would be lovely to
tell Nannie that I’d driven a Mayor up a rainbow in a real motor car!
But it’s no good _trying_ to, she doesn’t understand the sensiblest
things.”

And she ran into the day nursery to see which jam cook had sent up for
tea.



CHAPTER IX

DOWN!


“See me dance the polka!” went the old tune--and then again and
again--and Peggy lay in bed listening to it and staring at the fire.

The children next door were having a party in their hall, and every
time the front door opened the sound of the music came crashing out,
and jumped in through Peggy’s open window. Of course, she ought to have
been at the party too, but, for one thing, she had had a cold all day,
and for another, Nurse didn’t think the children next door had properly
got over measles, so she was afraid to let Peggy go.

Peggy hadn’t much minded until now. Nurse had petted her all day and
given her little bits of buttered toast at tea with apricot jam on
them, and then had let the housemaid come up and play dominoes with
her until bedtime, and now she had tucked her up warmly in bed with
a hot-water bottle and told her to go to sleep quickly, so that she
should be quite well before Mother came home the next day.

But go to sleep was just what Peggy couldn’t do. For one thing,
thinking of Mother coming back was enough to make her keep wanting to
jump out of bed and dance all over the room. And then the music too had
begun to make her rather long to run into the house next door and play
musical chairs with all the other children.

It was then that she suddenly felt the Ring pressing on her thumb, and
realised that she had quite forgotten to wish at all that day!

“Oh dear, suppose it hadn’t come, I might have forgotten altogether,”
she thought in dismay. “And now I’m rather frightened of seeing the
Giant, in case he’s angry about the Mayor. I wonder what I’d better
wish?”

She lay in bed thinking about it for quite a long time, until suddenly
hearing some carriages driving off and the music stopping, she realised
she was too late to wish to join the children’s party next door anyway.

“Oh, I wish the Giant was here,” she said at last. “He can always think
of lovely things to do.”

“Your window’s uncommonly small,” said the Giant, climbing in through
it, and bringing with him big bits of the wall on each shoulder.
“Gracious me, what a mess I’m in!” He shook himself and lay down on the
floor with his face close to the fire. “I’ve been looking in at the
party next door,” he went on. “Great fun--but they’re gone now. I saw
’em into their cabs. Why weren’t you there?”

“Because I’ve a cold,” said Peggy, sneezing three times. (The Giant
seemed to have brought in all the cold night air with him.) “Nannie
thinks I caught it hiding behind the laurels so long yesterday, but _I_
know it was going through that lovely wet yellow cloud!”

The Giant’s face clouded over. “Least said soonest mended about that,”
he said shortly. “I particularly told you of my aversion to Mayors, and
you at once take one for a drive and leave me behind! That was not in
the least what I meant. However, I will say no more. This is your last
day but one with me, so we won’t waste it with quarrelling. What’s your
wish? Be quick now, for this lovely hot fire makes me very sleepy.”

Peggy jumped out of bed, caught hold of the Giant’s little finger and
hugged it.

“I’m _so_ sorry,” she said coaxingly. “I like you better than any Mayor
that ever was born, Giant darling. And I didn’t _mean_ to leave you
behind. Did you have an awful time?”

“Well, I went wandering about the sky for the rest of the night looking
for you,” said the Giant. “I heard you’d been on the rainbow, but
after that I lost all trace of you. Still, never mind; as you’re sorry,
I don’t mind any more. Go on, wish away.”

“It’s no good, I’ve tried to,” said Peggy. “We seem to have done
everything exciting. We’ve been up----”

“How about going down for a change?” asked the Giant.

“Down?” said Peggy. “But we _are_ down!”

“Do you call _this_ down?” said the Giant laughing. “Come along, get on
my hand and wish,” and he laid his hand palm upwards on the hearthrug.

“Wish what?” asked Peggy, putting on her blue dressing-gown and
slippers.

“To go down, of course,” said the Giant impatiently. “Has your cold
made you deaf?”

“Oh, all right, I wish to go down,” said Peggy, clambering up on to the
Giant’s hand. “But it sounds very dull--_Gracious!_ Hold me tight!” for
they both at once went right through the nursery floor and into the
dining-room below.

“Oh, look!” said Peggy. “What a mess we’ve made of the ceiling. The
table’s all covered with bits of it! Oughtn’t we to clear it up?”

“Don’t waste time,” said the Giant. “Come on,” and down through the
carpet they went and right into the kitchen.

The servants were all at supper, but Peggy had only just time to catch
sight of their terrified faces and to hear their chairs crashing to the
floor as they all jumped up, before the Giant went right through that
floor too!

After that they went down so fast that her curls flew up in a waving
cone above her head, and the Giant’s beard flapped across her face and
hid everything. She shut her eyes at last, until--“Open them, we’re
down!” said the Giant, and they both flopped on to some long brown
grass.

[Illustration: This is a picture of the fifth Adventure. The mark on
the ceiling is the awful hole the Giant and Peggy made coming through.
The Giant is waving his hand to Cook as they go down. The footman has
only just seen the hole, and is showing it to everybody. The housemaid
who played dominoes with Peggy is screaming out “Stop them, Cook!” and
the scullery maid has sat down on the floor with her hands over her
face. Cook is fainting by the table. She had just put a pudding on it
for the servants supper. Peggy couldn’t put Nurse into the picture
because she wasn’t sure if she was in the kitchen then or not. You
=do= see the Ring, don’t you?]

Peggy stared round in astonishment. They were sitting in the middle of
a great brown plain, edged all ground with little pointed brown hills
rising up to a golden sky. And, “Oh, what ducky little houses!” cried
Peggy, for nestling up the sides of every hill were hundreds of tiny
brown thatched cottages, each with a dear little garden in front of it,
full of vegetables and brightly coloured berries.

“Where on earth are we?” she asked.

“Nowhere,” said the Giant. “We’re _in_ it. This is the Pixies’ country.
Look, they’re coming out of their houses. Do you see them? They’ve
heard us coming.”

A great opening of doors sounded from all around, and out poured the
Pixies, and raced across the plain to Peggy and the Giant. Little fat
brown fellows they were, dressed in dark shades of green and red, with
round wrinkled faces and pointed caps. When they were quite near, they
all stood in a crowd whispering and giggling, till two of them, holding
a huge curled-up yellow leaf between them, were pushed forward towards
Peggy.

“What have they got?” she whispered to the Giant.

“An invitation, I expect,” he whispered back, “for the party to-night.”

“What party?” asked Peggy, but “Hush, don’t, whisper, they’ll think
you’re making personal remarks,” answered the Giant. “They’re very
sensitive.” And certainly the Pixies carrying the leaf came to a dead
stop, and, apparently overcome with shyness, dropped it on the ground,
and raced back to their companions, where they stood sniggering and
covering their faces with their hands, and peeping through their
fingers at Peggy.

“How funny they are!” said Peggy in amazement. “Why _do_ they do that?”

“_I_ don’t know,” said the Giant. “I think it’s because they have so
few holidays and see so few people. But they’re a queer lot, and I
don’t profess to understand them! You’d better read your invitation.”

Peggy picked the leaf up, and, unrolling it, read as follows: “We
invite Peggy and the Giant to a Ball in the Distant Purple Caves in
half an hour. Skating, Eating, Flitting, Mazing, Wending and other
Amusements.”

“Oh dear, _how_ exciting! Can I go?” asked Peggy, beginning to dance
about all over the plain.

The Giant took the invitation and read it slowly.

“My goodness me, it _is_ going to be a smart affair!” said he. “Yes, I
think we can manage it all right. Only we shall have to dress up for
it, I’m afraid. It wouldn’t do to look dowdy.”

“But what do Flitting, Mazing, and Wending mean?” asked Peggy, looking
at the invitation again.

“Well, Flitting is flying round one after the other at the very top
of the caves and copying everything the front Pixie does,” said the
Giant, “and the one who goes on longest gets a prize. It’s tiring, but
exciting; a sort of Follow-my-Leader, only a better game. And Wending
is dancing up and down the Unexplored Passages and seeing who can pick
up most diamonds first. They only have it at the very grandest parties.
And Mazing is--now, what _is_ Mazing? I’ve quite forgotten! However, I
shall probably remember it in a minute or two.”

“Do you accept?” asked a tiny, shy voice at Peggy’s elbow, and she
looked down to see a Pixie standing by her.

“Yes, we’d _love_ to come, and it’s very kind of you to ask us,” said
Peggy very politely. “I hope you’ll excuse my writing,” she added,
having sometimes heard her mother say this.

“They’d _love_ to come!” shouted the Pixie to the others, and “They’d
_love_ to come!” shouted the rest, till the hills echoed with the
sound, and then they all turned and raced back to their cottages,
stopping now and then to giggle and snigger and look over their
shoulders at Peggy and the Giant, before the little doors slammed again
behind them.

“Very over-excited indeed,” remarked the Giant. “Now they’ll take the
rest of the time dressing up. And, by the way, we ought to be getting
ready too.”



CHAPTER X

PIXIE GAMES


“What did you think of wearing?” asked the Giant.

“Let me see,” said Peggy. “Yes--I think I wish to go as a Fairy, in
pink. What would _you_ like to be?”

“The wishes do work well now!” said the Giant in a gratified voice, for
Peggy stood before him glittering in a rosy spangled frock and gleaming
silver wings, with a star on her forehead and a wand in her hand all
complete. “Well, if you’ll really be so kind as to use up another wish
on me, I think I’d rather like to go as Little Boy Blue.”

“Certainly!” said Peggy, and the next instant the Giant, a good deal
smaller than usual, and dressed all in blue, with a golden horn in his
hand, stood on the plain. Unfortunately, however, his seven-leagued
boots still remained their usual size, and his beard was as long and
curly as ever, which gave him rather a strange appearance.

“_Not_ quite so successful,” he remarked, glancing down at himself.
“However, I shall pass in a crowd, I daresay. And now we _must_ start.
The Pixies will go under the hills, which takes a quarter of the time,
but I daren’t take you that way for fear of spoiling our clothes. Come
along--fly on to my shoulder. That’s right! Shut your eyes and it won’t
seem so far.” And off he walked at a great pace over the hills.

“_Do_ try to remember as we go what ‘Mazing’ means,” said Peggy. “I
wish I knew. It’s such a funny word!”

“I can’t talk or think of anything at present,” said the Giant. “I’ve
got to try and find my way, and it’s no easy matter, I can assure you.”
And a long silence ensued.

“Aren’t we there _yet_?” asked Peggy at last, after they had been
travelling for over a quarter of an hour. She opened her eyes as she
spoke, and then nearly fell off the Giant’s shoulder with astonishment.

For the brown hills had quite disappeared, and in their place
a dazzling white country spread around. And a country filled
with--_could_ it be? Peggy rubbed her eyes, and stared again. Yes.
Filled with _snowmen_! Snowmen towering up in all directions, one
behind the other, hundreds and hundreds of them, and all exactly like
the one Mother and Peggy had made in the garden last winter, with coals
for eyes, and pipes in their mouths!

“Yes, I thought you’d be surprised!” said the Giant, stopping wearily.
“I was. We’ve missed our way somehow, I believe, and it would really
have been better if we _had_ gone under the hills after all. This white
country gets on my nerves. I _must_ have a rest!”

He propped himself up against one of the snowmen as he spoke, and
mopped his face with his red pocket-handkerchief. “Do fly up fairly
high and see if there’s any way out of this,” he implored in an
exhausted voice. “I’ve been walking in and out between the wretched
things for _ages_. There seems no end to them!”

[Illustration: Peggy didn’t mean to do another picture of the fifth
Adventure, but Mother particularly wanted one of the Pixies, so she
had to do this, as the Ball-room one was too difficult to do. The
Pixies are just shouting out, “This is Mazing, this is!” and Peggy is
trying to catch two of them. You can see how tired and giddy the Giant
must have got with wandering about amongst so many Snowmen. He is
just wiping his face with his red handkerchief. Peggy made herself so
=very= ugly by mistake, and didn’t know how to change it.]

Peggy fluttered up and looked North, South, East and West, but alas,
there was nothing but hosts and hosts of snowmen in all directions.

“I believe it’s a trick of those nasty Pixies!” said the Giant angrily
when she returned. “There--look! Wasn’t that one of them?” and he
pointed behind her.

Peggy wheeled round, just in time to see a mischievous Pixie face
peeping from behind a snowman.

“Catch him!” cried the Giant, making a grab and missing. “Oh, now
he’s over there!” as another face peeped at them from quite another
direction.

“This is Mazing, this is,” said a tiny, chuckling voice, and a third
Pixie appeared round another snowman, and disappeared again just as
Peggy thought she had really got him.

“Oh dear!” said the Giant, stopping in dismay. “Don’t you remember you
said you wished you knew what Mazing was? I never took in that it was a
wish till this moment!”

“Why, so I did!” said Peggy. “Gracious me, what a silly game! and that
makes four wishes gone, too. There, _now_ I’ve got him!” and she made a
wild dash to the right, but only succeeded in catching a pointed cap,
and falling full length in the wet snow.

“This is Mazing, this is!” cried out about twenty giggling voices at
once, and heads poked out from behind the snowmen in all directions.

“Oh, I can’t stand this any longer,” said Peggy. “I wish we were at
that party! _Any_ of the other amusements would be better than this
one!”

At once the snowmen all toppled over and melted in a trice, and Peggy
and the Giant found themselves standing in a great Purple Cave full of
rosy light.

All around them danced a multitude of Gnomes, Brownies, Sprites, and
every other kind of unusual creature; and a large company of Pixies in
fancy dress, who had been playing leap-frog in a corner, came pushing
their way through the crowd.

“Oh, you _are_ late!” they cried. “You’ve been Mazing, haven’t you?”
and they all burst into a great roar of laughter.

“You’re not being a bit funny,” said the Giant, turning his back on
them, and “Here come the Naiads!” he whispered to Peggy. “They only
attend the _best_ parties,” and he pointed towards some beautiful tall
ladies in green and blue with water lilies in their hair, who were
walking up the cave towards them, followed by a crowd of handsome
Dryads in brown and yellow.

“Come and play at Flitting,” said one of them, taking Peggy’s and the
Giant’s hands. “Those bad-mannered creatures will improve if you take
no notice of them. We’ll show you how to play,” and up to the ceiling
they all went, and everyone else after them.

Peggy never forgot that wonderful night. When she was tired with
darting round the cavern walls, or hunting for diamonds in the dark,
she skated with a company of very polite Trolls in a beautiful inner
cavern, whose walls were a gleaming mass of rubies. And then the
Pixies, who by this time had remembered their manners, crowned her
Queen of the Revels with great pomp, and led her off to partake of
light refreshments.

These were set out in a great black and yellow cavern which was
entirely lighted by glow-worms, cleverly concealed in full-blown yellow
roses hung from the roof. Peggy was put at the head of the table with
the Giant by her side, and big sugar sweets of every shape and kind
were piled upon their plates.

But no sooner had they finished half their helpings than a sudden shout
of “Back to work!” “Back to work!” sounded from all sides.

The Naiads and Dryads immediately disappeared in a pale green mist,
the Sprites changed into blue smoke, and the next instant Peggy found
herself, with hundreds of silent, hardworking Pixies, digging with
pickaxes in the sides of a cold dark rock, by the light of a solitary
glow-worm!

The Giant, with his blue sleeves rolled up, was working diligently by
her side.

“Oh, what _are_ we doing? Where’s the party gone?” cried Peggy in great
distress.

“Over,” said the Giant without stopping; and at every blow of his axe
great pieces of gold fell out of the rock. “_Now_ we’ve got to work!”

“Oh, but this _is_ dull,” said Peggy. “And I know Nannie wouldn’t like
me to get hot with my bad cold,” she went on primly, quite forgetting
that she had not thought of that at all, during the games just now.
Then seeing the Giant was busily knocking some emeralds out of the rock
without taking any notice of what she said, “Oh, I hate the horrid
place; I wish I was back in bed!” she went on crossly, just to see
whether he’d answer that or not, and throwing her pickaxe down with a
crash....

“But you _are_, Miss Peggy,” said Nurse’s voice soothingly, and Peggy
found herself once more in the nursery, with the blankets and sheets
all tumbling off in a most uncomfortable way. “There, that’s better!
Now you must try and go to sleep again. The hot-water bottle’s just
tumbled out. I expect that’s what woke you.”

“Why, Nannie, I didn’t _really_ mean to come back so soon!” said Peggy.
“I never thanked them for my nice time, or anything!”

“You’ve been dreaming you were at the party next door,” said Nurse.
“That’s because you heard the music, I expect. Now you mustn’t talk any
longer. To-morrow night Mother will be home!”

“Why, so she will! Good-night, Giant dear,” said Peggy, and turning
over fell sound asleep at once.

“She must be feverish, I’m afraid, yet she _looks_ quite well,” said
Nurse rather uneasily, stealing softly from the room.

And all night long on Peggy’s thumb the green stone winked and twinkled
at the fire.



CHAPTER XI

THE LAST ADVENTURE


“I wish it wasn’t such a wet day,” said Peggy, lying full length in the
loft amongst the hay, and looking through the cobwebby little window at
the driving rain.

“Why, what does the rain matter?” asked the Giant, coming through the
roof, and lying down in the hay, too, with both legs dangling out of
the trap-door. And the sunshine poured through the hole he had made,
and a big patch of blue sky gleamed above it.

“Oh dear!” said Peggy, “I never noticed I had the Ring on! What waste
of a wish! The garden boy said it was going to clear in half an hour
anyway. Nannie thinks I’m in the garden,” she went on, “but I ran up
here out of the rain. Hadn’t we better go out again now it’s stopped?”

“Oh, _do_ let’s stop here for a bit,” said the Giant. “I’m so stiff
from yesterday’s digging. I stayed on and did a lot after you’d gone.
Look here,” and he pulled handfuls of glittering red and green stones
out of his pocket.

“I didn’t mean to go off suddenly like that,” said Peggy rather
shamefacedly. “I hope you thanked the Pixies for us both?”

“Oh yes, that was all right,” said the Giant, scooping together all
the hay within reach and making it into a pillow for his head. “By the
way,” he went on lazily, staring up at the dusty beams, “do you realise
this is our last adventure?”

“Why, so it is!” said Peggy with a gasp. “Oh, how _awful_! I can’t bear
to think I shan’t see you again,” and she caught hold of the Giant’s
little finger and hugged it hard. “What _shall_ I do without you?”

“Well, you must think of something very exciting indeed for our last
day,” said the Giant. “And don’t go wasting wishes like you’ve been
doing lately. It spoils all the fun.”

“The thing that puzzles me,” said Peggy, looking at her Ring as it
gleamed and sparkled in that dark place, “is how much the Ring does,
and how much you do? And why sometimes it doesn’t work till it’s
turned, and why you can’t always bring me back without my having to use
up a wish, and where you live when you’re not here, and----”

“Well, of all the inquisitive children you absolutely take the cake!”
said the Giant. “I don’t think I’ve been asked so many questions for
the last five hundred years at least. I haven’t the slightest intention
of answering one of them. Instead of being grateful for having so many
wishes at a time, you begin grumbling----”

“O Giant, darling, I didn’t _mean_ to grumble!” cried Peggy. “I was
only _wondering_. But I won’t ask any more questions, I promise you,
if you’ll only think of some lovely exciting adventure for to-day. You
think of such _beautiful_ things always,” she added.

“Oh, that’s all very well!” said the Giant, but his voice sounded
rather pleased. “Well now, let me see. This takes some thinking. What
_was_ it that that child and I did in 1350 or thereabouts? Oh yes, I
remember. She wished all her toys to come alive. How would you like
that?”

“_Perhaps_ it would be rather fun,” said Peggy--and she wished it, but
in rather a doubtful voice. “You’re sure it will be really exciting?”
she asked....

“Listen to all that trampling,” said the Giant in reply, nibbling at a
straw and blinking at the rafters.

Peggy raced to the loft door and looked down into the yard below, where
an extraordinary sight met her eyes. For the whole place had suddenly
become packed from end to end with every kind of animal, bird and
insect, all rushing to and fro in the greatest state of excitement.

“Oh, _do_ look down!” Peggy implored the Giant. “Where _can_ they all
have come from? There’s a camel, I’m sure. Oh, and there’s a lion going
right off into the rose bed! What _will_ John say? And there’s a funny
old man in a long coat running about amongst them all! Who _can_ he be?”

“Noah,” answered the Giant, “and it’s all the animals from your Noah’s
Ark, of course. My word, you’ll have a lively time getting ’em in
again! You’d better go down, I think.”

Peggy ran down the steps, and Noah at once bustled up to her in a great
state of mind.

“This coat of mine hampers me dreadfully,” he panted. “Do you think you
could restore any kind of order? The tigers have got into the kitchen
garden, and a dromedary and one, if not _both_, the leopards, have gone
down the high road towards the village!”

“Giant, Giant, come and help!” shouted Peggy, and the next moment the
Giant was standing by her side, shaking pieces of hay off himself,
which the few remaining animals immediately ate.

“He wants us to drive them up into the nursery again,” said Peggy. “You
go that way,” and she pointed through the open gate into the kitchen
garden, “and I’ll go round the house and get them out of the flower
beds. And you,” to Noah, “run down the road after them!”

“Chuck, chuck, chuck,” she went on to a pair of red storks strutting
to and fro in the perennial border, but they simply flew on to the top
of the house and stared down at her; whilst an elephant, standing in
the asparagus bed on the other side of the garden wall, chose at that
moment to trumpet loudly, and nearly startled Peggy out of her wits.

“I don’t know how we’re to manage it!” she said at last to Noah, who
reappeared driving a bright blue pig and a dromedary up the road. “It’s
_no_ fun, is it? I only wish we could all go for a ride or something
exciting! How about that animal there?” and she pointed at a Giraffe
engaged at the moment in licking a red creeper off one side of the
house....

“Hold me tight!” said Noah very nervously, as they all three found
themselves on the Giraffe’s back and going at a brisk trot down the
back drive. “_Do_ hold me tight! I haven’t ridden for years.”

“How lovely this is!” said Peggy, taking a firmer grip of Noah, who sat
in front, and looking back at the Giant. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“At present I am,” he answered carefully, “though I really ought to
have been in front for the weight, I suppose. Hulloa! What’s he doing
now?”

For the Giraffe had no sooner turned into the high road than he began
to proceed in a series of jumps, all four feet pressed close together,
and rising a good deal higher than the hedges at each effort.

“Tell him to _stop_, Noah!” gasped Peggy. “You’re in front. Hurry up!
I’m shaken to bits.”

“It’s no good,” moaned Noah. “I have, and he won’t listen. Oh, if we
only had some reins!”

“You must _wish_ him to go slower,” said the Giant to Peggy in a faint
voice. “I shall die if this goes on! It’s all your fault for saying
‘or something exciting’ after your wish. I forgot to tell you how very
risky that was. Ah, thank you! That’s better,” for Peggy had wished,
and the Giraffe at once quieted down into a walk--in fact into such a
slow walk that it almost might have been called standing still.

“Get on!” said Peggy, digging her heels into the Giraffe’s back--but he
went slower and slower still.

“Oh dear, you’ll have to get off and push, I’m afraid,” she said to the
Giant. “We shall never get anywhere at all if you don’t. I’m not going
to waste another wish on the horrid old thing!”

“All right,” said the Giant, getting off--but the more he pushed the
slower the Giraffe went.

“Why, here we are at the village!” cried Peggy, as after half an
hour’s steady pushing they turned a corner and saw a row of cottages
stretching down the road on either side. “Now get on again,” she said
to the hot and tired Giant, “and we’ll ride grandly down to the shop
and buy a pennyworth of sweets!”

“Who’s to buy them?” asked the Giant, wearily settling himself on the
Giraffe’s back again (it was quite easy to get on and off because the
creature really went so very slowly). “_I_ can’t. I only frighten
people.”

“Noah will--won’t you, Noah?” asked Peggy coaxingly. “_I_ can’t,
because I’ve no pennies left at all!”

“But I haven’t a farthing on me either,” said Noah uncomfortably.

“Oh, never mind, have it entered!” said Peggy, pushing him off the
Giraffe’s back. “Run along; we shan’t move far from here before you
come back--and get acid drops if you can,” she added.

Noah obediently crossed the road and walked into the shop; and about
one minute afterwards he reappeared, bearing two enormous bottles of
pear-drops under each arm.

“Gracious me!” cried Peggy, jumping off the Giraffe, and followed by
the Giant. “How quick you’ve been! And that’s not a pennyworth!”

“I know it isn’t,” said Noah. “But the woman _made_ me take them. I
asked her quite politely for a pennyworth, but instead of weighing
them out like anyone else would, she fell down behind the counter and
screamed, ‘Take anything you like, only go away!’ So I did. I chose
_all_ pear-drops because they’re my favourite sweets,” he added simply,
putting two into his mouth at once.

“Oh you greedy!” cried Peggy. “Give us some at once! I’m very glad
nobody sees us,” she added, looking anxiously up and down the village
street; “they’d never believe the woman really _gave_ them to you.”

And at that moment a perfect shout of delight rose up in the road
behind them, and Peggy, turning hastily round, saw a troup of Toys
rushing towards them!

There were all the dolls she had ever had, all the people in every
Fairybook she had ever looked at, and all her wooden carts and horses.
There were all her Golliwogs and Teddy-bears, all the Ark animals
again, all the rest of Noah’s family (who had been lost for years),
all the dolls’ tea-sets, and even the big dolls’ house, and the
rocking-horse, and all the balls and tops, and ninepins, and whips, and
whistles, in fact every single thing that had ever lived in the Toy
Cupboard in the Nursery.

“Found at last!” they screamed, dancing and leaping round Peggy. “Now
let’s play a game. _You_ choose!”



CHAPTER XII

THE NICEST WISH OF ALL


As the Toys crowded round, filling the village street from end to
end, Peggy could tell in a moment that they were ready for any fun or
mischief she could possibly wish for; and her spirits rose higher and
higher. She threw all the pear-drops amongst them, and whilst they were
scrambling about picking them up--“I know!” she cried, as a lovely
thought struck her. “I wish that the village was our very own, and that
the Giant and I were King and Queen, with the shop for our palace!”

“Hurrah!” shouted all the Toys. “Let’s turn the people out now!” and
the Dolls and Golliwogs leading the way, they rushed up to the doors of
the cottages, and banged on them with all their might.

[Illustration: This is the way they rode through the Village in the
Sixth Adventure, and Peggy was very sorry there were not more people
looking out to see them. She is just asking Noah to get down and buy
a pennyworth of sweets. The girl with the fat face in the bedroom
window was the shopwoman’s daughter. She ran down the stairs and out
of the back door as fast as she could tear. You can see how slowly the
Giraffe was walking. Afterwards he played about just like all the other
Animals. The Giant was making that funny face because he felt shy. This
was the best Adventure.]

“You mustn’t be rude to the people, remember!” cried Peggy. “Just ask
them to lend us the village for a little while, and we promise not to
hurt it. I expect they’ll understand.”

Whether they did or not Peggy never found out, for after one glance out
of their windows, the people snatched up their babies, and, screaming
to the rest of their children to follow, they rushed out of the back
doors and down the fields and away over the hills as fast as their legs
could carry them. Peggy tried shouting to them that it was all right,
and that no one would hurt them, and the lions and tigers were very
anxious to run after them, and _make_ them see how silly they were; but
everyone else thought it better to begin playing at once, before the
men came back from work.

Peggy and the Giant--who suddenly noticed that they were wearing
beautiful scarlet robes, and had heavy gold crowns on their heads--went
behind the counter in the little shop, and sold sweets to every Toy who
came to buy. And it was all more fun than words can say, especially
when the dolls, who wanted to play at housekeeping, came crowding in
asking for flour and sugar and rice and all sorts of things.

The Giant, quite doubled up in such a small space, handed down the jars
and tins to Peggy, and she measured out all the things very carefully,
and put them into paper bags; whilst Noah and his family busied
themselves with getting tea ready in the back room.

Outside, the Golliwogs and Teddy-bears, shouting and hallooing, led the
Ark animals to the pond to drink, or shut them up in the fields, or
harnessed them to the carts they found, and drove them to market--and
of course the animals simply _loved_ it.

The rocking-horse got off his rockers, and was put in a real stable,
and given real hay to eat; and the dolls’ house was put alongside a
real house and had a creeper trained up it, and instead of the whole
of the front wall having to be undone before people could get in, the
little brown door opened and shut just like one in a real house does.

As for the tops and ninepins, dominoes and other small fry, they just
spun and hopped up and down the road and in and out of the houses, not
really playing at anything, but enjoying it all as much as anyone. And
the pictures in the story-books took no notice of anybody, but went
for long walks in the woods, with their arms round each other’s necks,
gossiping.

It really was the best adventure of the lot, Peggy and the Giant
agreed, as they sat by their door that afternoon, the Giant smoking and
reading a newspaper, and Peggy looking down the busy village street.
None of the villagers came back at all, and it really felt as if the
whole place was their very own.

“Even that pump looks exciting, because it’s _ours_,” said Peggy, “and
if only Mother was home again everything would be _perfect_, wouldn’t
it?”

“Well, why don’t you _wish_ she was coming?” said the Giant. “You’ve
got one more wish left still, and she’ll see you get home without any
help from me or the Ring either!”

Peggy jumped to her feet and ran down the road. Why _hadn’t_ she
thought of it before? Round the corner she tore, away from everyone’s
sight, even the Giant’s, her heart beating fast. Then--“I wish Mummie
was coming now!” she said--and at once a little tiny speck appeared
far, far away on the white road....

And of course the speck turned into a motor, and of course Mother was
inside it.--And directly _that_ happened, the Ring flew right off
Peggy’s thumb and completely disappeared--goodness knows where.

“And did you come to meet me!” said Mother, jumping out of the motor
and kissing Peggy dozens and dozens of times. “You _are_ a nice Pegtop!
Weren’t you frightened all by yourself on the road?”

“O Mummie, this is _much_ the nicest wish of all,” gasped Peggy, as
Mother jumped in again with her in her arms, and they whizzed along
down the road. “Why!” as they passed through the village, “the Toys are
all gone and so is the Giant!”

“You’ve not answered my question yet, my Peggums,” said Mother,
pressing her closer.

“Of course I wasn’t frightened, Mummie!” said Peggy, burying her nose
in the bunch of violets pinned to Mother’s coat. “You see, I had my
Giant with me.”

“Oh, had you?” said Mother, not looking at all surprised. “Then
_that’s_ all right! Good old Giant!” she added softly.

       *       *       *       *       *

“It’s all perfectly _lovely_,” said Mother, that evening after tea,
when Peggy had finished telling her all the adventures from beginning
to end. “And I’m going to write them down for a book. It would be a
thousand pities if the Ring went to another little girl and she didn’t
know about putting it on her thumb. Think of the waste!”

“Yes, and it’s so bad for the Giant, too,” said Peggy thoughtfully.
“I mean, him not being _used_ oftener. You see what mistakes he made
sometimes, darling old thing! I do think the book is a _splendid_ plan,
Mummie,” and she began to dance round and round the room.

“And you shall do the pictures for it!” said Mother, dancing round the
room too. (She was _that_ sort of Mother.)

“Oh, _do_ you think I could?” asked Peggy, stopping short.

“Of course you could,” said Mother. “Why, you were there, and know
exactly what everything looked like. And I’ll help a little when you
want me. Let’s do a bit every day after tea till it’s done,” and she
rolled Peggy on the floor and hugged her.

And so they did.


_Printed in Great Britain by M‘Farlane & Erskine, Edinburgh_



TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:


  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

  Underlined text is surrounded by equals signs: =underline=.

  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

  Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.





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