The Magic Feather

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 614, 16 March 1929, Page 29

The Magic Feather

And Two Little Horseshoe Crabs

Once there were two dear little girls named Mary and Rose, who went to live at a place called Wonderful Island. And one day, as they were ' walking along the beach looking for sea shells, they saw two little Horse- j shoe Crabs struggling to get back into the water. ‘‘l’ll put you back,” said Mary. •‘You’re such tiny, bitsy things.” And as she did so. Rose saw an Angel Wing shell and quickly picked it up. "Isn’t it pretty?” she said. ’ Just j like a bird's wing. How I wish it I could fly!” Instantly the Angel Wing flew right out of her hand and up—up into the sky. And a shell feather fell from the Angel Wing and dropped at Mary’s feet. "I’ll wear it in my hat,” said Mary. “I’ll wear it all the morning, and you can wear it all the afternoon.” So Mary put on her hat with its Angel Wing feather, and they started to walk toward home. "Time for school,” called mother. "Oh!” said Rose. "I wish all books were at the bottom of the sea!” Suddenly there was a mighty rustling of leaves, and from every house on the Island books poured out. Great big dictionaries, little tiny magazines, novels, crossword puzzle books, railway guides, lesson books, music books, diaries, seed catalogues, story books —they all rushed down the steps, off porches, off tables, off desks, and plunged into the gulf. Mary turned quickly to see what all the noise was about. "Ob! Oh! Oh! Look!” she screamed. "All my books are running out of the house right into the sea!” "Oh, my poor arithmetic!” wept Rosie. “I know it can’t swim. It will be drowned. There! It’s gone down for the third time!” Not only her arithmetic, but bank books, check books, account books of all kinds! They came from all directions. and—splash! splash—into the waves they went. All next day Mary and Rose were so quiet and thoughtful that their mother wondered what was the matter. But Mary and Rose were silent because they felt sure that somehow they had sent the books into the gulf.

"Let's try and see.' whispered Mar> "You say you wish something, and see if it happens.” "I’m scared!" said Rosie. "Scared cat!” scoffed Mary. "I'm not!” said Rose. I just wish you’d keep still!" And instantly poor Mary became still. She might have been a dear little pink and white wax doll. She didn't move an eyelash, or a toe, or & finger. She couldn't. Slitjust kept still—still as a chair, or a table, or a stone. And the more Rosie screamed, the stiller Mary was. Slie didn’t even move an eyelash. For one long hour, she sat like a little statue carved in marble, Rosie trying in vain to mak* her move or speak. At last Rosie threw herself factdown on tlie sand. "Oh, Mary!” she sobbed. "I wish you’d cough, or sneeze, or fly, or swim, or something! And right away Mary did all of those things, in the order named by Rosie. She coughed for five minutes, then sneezed for five minutes, and tlew for five minutes, then swam for five minutes. "Goodness!” sighed Rosie. I wish she’d run down, and act just like Mary again!’* ~*-*.*—<l Then Mary ran down, with a little whirring sound like a clockwork toy, and was just herself again. "See?” said Rosie. "It’s when you or I wish anything that it comes true. I wish I knew why.” At that very moment, the two little Horseshoe Crabs came up, holding tails, and fairly bursting to tell their secret. “We did it! We did it!” they sang, dancing with all their elawy little feci. "We are the lucky Horseshoes, and the day you put us back into th< gulf, we wished you good luck. W«said that your every wish should be granted if it were wished beneath the feather of the Angel Wing!” Then they held tails again and disappeared into the sea. That night Mary and Rose crawled out of bed and crept downstairs for Mary’s hat. They passed the shelf where their story books used to me. It was empty. Then they passed the corner in tlie living room where Mother used to sit in the evening and read. The big chair was there: so was the little table where the lamp used to be. But the bookshelves were empty. | "Now,” said Rosie. "Together!” So they both cleared their throats, j "We —wish,” they said, "that all the ] books would come out of the sea and igo back where they belong—and get I dry again.” And once more there was a great • rustling of leaves, and in the pale i moonlight, Mary and Rose sat up, I taking turns wearing the magic hat, and watched the poor, water-soaked j books hop across the sands. | Some of them shook themselves like little wet puppies who have just been ! given a bath. Some of them sat by tho roadside long enough to pick off the barnacles. And some of them tried to go two ways at once, because they were borrowed books and didn’t know where they belonged. But most of them rushed off right away, wanting only one thing—just to be sitting on their own table or shelf once more, dry as ever. And now, even though they have buried the magic feather, Mary and Rose can never look at a mouldy book without getting red in the face.