If you stand with one hand on the Wishing Post, and think hard of what
you would like most in all the world, your wish comes true. Isn’t that
lovely? Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn’t it? But it isn’t a fairy tale
at all, it’s really true. Of course those old men with the goggles
and the bald heads don’t believe it. If you ask them they will tell
you the North Pole is just the end of the axis of the earth, whatever
_that_ may mean, and they will insist it isn’t a Wishing Post at all.
Now, when they tell you this, here’s a crusher for them. Ask them how
they know. Ask them if they’ve ever been there to see. Just see what
they say to that. Maida has been there, and she knows all about it. To
commence at the very beginning, this is how she came to make the trip.
One evening, Maida was lying on the hearth kicking her fat legs in the
air and watching the Flame Folk when she heard _somebody_ (you know
which one I mean--the one with the white cap and apron) coming. Now of
course Maida wasn’t the least bit sleepy and she did not want to go to
bed, so she slipped out of the door and down the long hall to the very
end. Then she heard somebody talking--oh, such a fine voice somebody
had, just like the growl of a bear--but a nice soft growl, mind
you--and what the Man with the Growly Voice said must have been ever so
funny, for Aunt Mary laughed and laughed. So Maida peeked. There sat
Aunt Mary in one of the traily, fluffy dresses, and her pretty neck
and arms looked so pink and soft, and her eyes were so bright and her
cheeks were so red, that Maida envied her clear to the tips of her
toes. The Man with the Growly Voice sat oh very close to Aunt Mary, and
he was smiling a little and holding Aunt Mary’s hand (Aunt Mary did not
seem to mind a bit), then Maida heard him say--“Name the day.”
So she went boldly in (because Aunt Mary knew it was some kind of a
riddle or something and didn’t answer), and said to the Man with the
Growly Voice, “How can anybody name days? There are only seven and
they’re already named--Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,
Saturday, and Sunday. Then it begins all over again.” That must have
been the answer to the joke, for Aunt Mary laughed, and the Man with
the Growly Voice laughed, and the first thing Maida knew she was
sitting on his knee, all comfy and happy. Well, the Man with the Growly
Voice was an Arctic Explorer--if you know what that means. If you
don’t, I’ll tell you. It’s a man who wants to go away up North so far
that his next step will start him South; and he had just come back from
the land where it is always Winter.
Somehow Maida found him the nicest grown-up she had ever met, he was
so interested in everything she said, and somehow when she was cuddled
against his big arm, with her nose nestled against his breast it was
so easy to explain that she was tired--oh, so tired of being a little
girl; and tell him all her troubles.
He listened to every word and then he told her about the _Wishing
Post_. He had really seen it many, many times--he had made ever so
many wishes and all but one had come true and he had great hopes of
_that_. He must have told Aunt Mary about the wish for she seemed so
interested.
[Illustration: Growly Voice Eats Snowballs]
Then the Man with the Growly Voice told Maida lots and lots of other
things,--not stories mind you, true tales. He had been so long in the
cold North that he could only sleep in the refrigerator, and he had to
eat icicles and snowballs all the time because he was used to them.
Then he told her of the Eskimos; funny little tame Indians who guard
the North Pole, with great white bears, so no one can steal it, and
when he dined with them they gave him nothing to eat but ice-cream.
[Illustration: Aunt Mary Gets a Sealskin Coat]
Think of it, all the little Eskimo children just eating ice-cream all
day long. Maida decided she would be an Eskimo. Oh, the wonders he told
her. How the seals swim in once a year with their cast-off skins and
give them to the traders in return for charlotte russe and sugar-plums,
and this was something Maida was glad to find out, for she never could
understand how Aunt Mary could get a sealskin coat without hurting the
seal, so it was quite a relief to find the seals were glad to exchange
them for charlotte russe and sugar-plums. But the most wonderful thing
of all was the day the Man with the Growly Voice met Santa Claus,
for he did really meet him face to face. It seems the Eskimos have
Christmas on the Fourth of July, so Santa Claus drove about all day in
his sledge with the six reindeer, giving away presents and taking the
little Eskimo children for a ride. What a happy little girl Maida was
that night, for _somebody_ in a white cap and apron didn’t know where
to find her, and there she was sitting up for once with the grown-ups
and not a bit sleepy, not a _bit_.
She grew so intent on the wonders told her by the Man with the Growly
Voice that now and then she would miss something he said. Then Aunt
Mary would laugh as if Maida were drowsy, which of course she wasn’t.
Of all his tales the Wishing Post was the best. If she could only go
there and wish herself grown up, oh, wouldn’t that be splendid. So she
made him promise to take her on his next voyage. She was so happy when
he said he would, she shut her eyes to think about it, besides the
light was very bright and--well, to this day Maida doesn’t remember
what else the Man with the Growly Voice told her that night.