A CHOICE OF CHARMS
“Hello, old sport!” said Wendell; “I didn’t expect you till Monday.”
“Oh, I just dropped in,” said the Pixie. “Great book, isn’t it? But, go
easy, son, go easy. Danger, you know.”
“Yes, I am going easy,” said Wendell. “I haven’t read one word out loud.
It’s some book, though!”
“Let’s read that thing about giants,” suggested the Pixie. “That ought
to just suit your case.”
“I suppose there’s no harm in reading _this_ aloud,” said Wendell,
hesitatingly. “Just sort of directions, you see.”
“Go slowly,” commanded the Pixie. “And if you see any charm coming to
meet you, stop short.”
Wendell read:--
“‘SOME TRIED METHODS FOR KILLING GIANTS.
“‘Method ye first:--To kill a giant--’”
“Put salt on his tail,” interpolated the Pixie.
“Please listen,” said Wendell, and went on,--
“‘Dig a hole deeper than his height a few steps from his door. Cover it
with branches of trees. Standing on the further side, away from his
house, taunt him in a loud voice. When he rushes out, he will fall into
the hole, and can be easily despatched.’”
“By whom?” inquired the Pixie, after deep thought. “I vote, _not_ by
me.”
“Well, here’s another,” said Wendell. “‘Method ye second:--Assume the
disguise of a wayworn traveler. Knock at the giant’s door and ask for a
night’s lodging.’--I can’t do that,” said Wendell. “He knows me by
smell.”
“Never mind. Read it through,” said the Pixie.
“‘He will tell you that he has no extra bed, but that you are welcome to
share his son’s.’--Yes, but he hasn’t a son,” said Wendell.
“Never mind. It’s interesting. Go on,” said the Pixie.
“‘When you go to bed, he will put a gold chain around his son’s neck and
a hempen rope round your neck. As soon as he has left you, put the
hempen rope round his son’s neck and the gold chain round your own neck,
and then feign sleep. After a time, the giant will return. He will feel
for the gold chain, and finding it on your neck, and the hempen rope on
his son’s neck, he will cut off his son’s head with his sword. You must
then wait until you hear the giant’s snores, and rising quickly’--”
“Taking care,” suggested the Pixie, “not to step on a tack.”
“‘--make your way to his bedside, and lop off his head with his own
sword.’”
“Too much shortening in that recipe,” said the Pixie. “Try another.”
“‘Giant-killing as recommended by Puss-in-Boots,’” read Wendell.
“‘Invite the giant to a feast at your castle, and after he is in a good
humor, make a wager that you can change yourself into an animal more
quickly than he can. Change yourself into a cat; and whatever form the
giant assumes, whether that of lion, tiger, leopard, or what-not, let
the onlookers declare that the contest is a draw and that the trial must
be made again. Convince the giant that in order to insure a perfectly
fair trial, both contestants should change to the same shape, and choose
that of a mouse. At the word, allow the giant to take the shape of a
mouse, while you retain that of a cat, and immediately devour him.’”
“That sounds rather good,” said the Pixie approvingly. “You’d have to
practice your transformations at home, first, of course, and be sure you
have the charm down pat.”
Wendell did not answer immediately. “Say, that gives me an idea,” he
finally declared. “Why kill the Giant, anyway?”
“To please the Beauteous Maiden, of course,” said the Pixie.
“Yes, but why _kill_ him?” questioned Wendell. “Why not just change him
into something good and harmless and useful. The Beauteous Maiden would
like that just as well, wouldn’t she?”
“Well, you can ask her,” said the Pixie. “This is the age of
labor-saving. Only, killing seems more definite, somehow, more final.
But you can ask her.”
“I’ll try to get her on the ’phone, now,” said Wendell, “and you be
thinking up something to change him to. And say, look in the Book and
find the charm for it.”
Wendell was gone for some time. “I couldn’t get her,” he said when he
returned. “But I’m sure she’ll be willing. We’ll go ahead and plan
something anyway. Did you find a charm?”
“Oh, yes, loads of them,” said the Pixie. “Just listen to these:--
“‘TO CHANGE A HUMAN BEING INTO A TURTLE.
TO CHANGE A HUMAN BEING INTO A BUTTERFLY.
TO CHANGE A HUMAN BEING INTO A STONE--’ That might be good,--
‘TO CHANGE A HUMAN BEING INTO A DRAGON--’ He is that already.”
“Hold on,” said Wendell. “We don’t want any of those. Find a general
one, to change him into any old thing. We can decide what afterwards.”
“All right,” said the Pixie. “I’ll keep on looking, and you keep on
thinking.”
“We might change him into a janitor,” suggested Wendell, who had been
looking idly out of the window until his eye fell on the janitor of
Sammy’s apartment house. “He’s useful, you know. He puts out ashes and
runs the furnace.”
“Oh, that would never do,” cried the Pixie. “That Giant has shown he
can’t be trusted in any position of absolute authority and unlimited
despotism. You must curtail his powers instead of enlarging them.”
“A cook would be good,” said Wendell, who really had a very practical
mind. “My mother and all her friends say there aren’t enough cooks to go
’round.”
“I told you,” said the Pixie wearily, “you must curtail his powers. Just
use your brain a little. Isn’t the cook the greatest power in the
household? Might as well leave him a giant and be done with it!”
“Well, I can’t think,” said Wendell. “I don’t know anything useful. A
victrola, perhaps. I wonder if the Beauteous Maiden has a victrola. I’m
sure she can think of something, anyhow.”
Sure enough, the Beauteous Maiden was resourceful enough to meet the
situation. She called Wendell up herself, after school Monday, just as
he was going to the telephone to try to get her.
Of course, Wendell had not been idle over Sunday. He had made himself
thoroughly familiar with all the various charms for transforming people
that he could find in the Book. There was one first-class charm that
suited him to perfection, because it was adaptable. With this charm, you
could change anything to anything else, anywhere, at any time. Wendell
practiced with it, in a harmless sort of way, quite a little, to be sure
he could work it. He changed his eraser to a bean-shooter, first, and
shot beans at some cats on the back fence. Then he changed a very
handsome and unread copy of Macaulay’s History of England that his aunt
had given him into a gold watch, which, however, he was careful to keep
out of sight of the family, especially Cousin Virginia. He changed an
old pen-wiper into a box of caramels. That was an inspiration. And in
Sunday school he changed a hymnal into a mouse that ran across the
Sunday school room and made quite a diversion. That was one of his
successes. He did another interesting thing. He changed Sammy’s janitor
into a crab just as he was crossing the street. That was an easy change,
because Sammy’s janitor was something of a crab, anyway. He changed him
back again, though, because a street on Beacon Hill is no place for a
crab. By the time he heard from the Beauteous Maiden, he felt quite
ready to carry out any suggestions she might offer.