Wasn’t it splendid! Her very first wish came true. Well, thank
goodness, it wouldn’t be long until she was a young lady--still there
was no hurry. She wasn’t sure just what kind of a young lady she wanted
to be. Besides she must make a list of things she meant to wish for, so
as not to forget any of them. There was no safer place for her anywhere
in Illusia, for if anybody tried to capture her, she need only put out
her hand, touch the Wishing Post and wish them away. All her fear left
her and she cuddled down in a heap and began writing her list with
a stubby pencil on a little scrap of paper she found in her pocket.
Suddenly her attention was attracted by a pitiful sight at the other
end of the square.
A young boy was leading a poor old man who hobbled painfully along,
leaning on a cane. Both were dressed in rags and tatters, and the old
man, whose beard and hair were white, wore a green bandage over his
eyes which hid half his face, so Maida guessed he was blind. She felt
very sorry, and watched them to see what they meant to do, but felt
afraid to go to them, on account of the boy;--her last experience
with boys had been so unpleasant. At some little distance the old man
staggered and then sat down on a bench at the border of the roadway.
“Oh I am so tired, so tired,” he moaned. “Where are we, my lad?”
“I don’t know,” she heard the boy answer, “this is the first time I was
ever in Illusia.” And there was something about the boy’s voice that
sounded very familiar to Maida. It reminded her of--_who did_ it remind
her of? The old man bent his head sadly. “If I only had my eyes,” he
said. The boy patted him on the shoulder and answered cheerfully--“Oh
you’ll have them soon, and then all will be well.”
Maida tried to _remember_ where she had heard his voice. Then a
dreadful thing occurred. Two big Illusian policemen--and they are
much bigger and fiercer than the kind we have down here--ran into the
square, seized the boy, and despite his cries and entreaties dragged
him away, leaving the poor old blind man helpless and alone. As soon
as they were out of sight Maida ran to the old man who was calling out
piteously, and soothed him.
“What can I do to help you?” she asked him.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” he answered sorrowfully. “You see I am
blind, little girl, I am blind. Because my mirror showed the Queen
Aurora how ugly she was, I was forced to look upon the purple light
that shone from her golden crown. So now I cannot see. I shall never
see again. And they have taken away my boy. I am all alone, all alone!”
“No, not alone,” replied Maida, “I will guide you. It seems to me I
have heard your voice, as well as your boy’s. Lift the bandage and let
me see your face.”
The old man pushed back the bandage and you can imagine Maida’s
surprise when she saw it was Santa Claus! She threw her arms about him
and told him who she was. You may just believe he was glad to find her.
“And now,” she said joyously, “I’ve a great surprise for you. You shall
have your eyes back. No, don’t ask me to tell you how, but you shall
see again--and very soon.” So she guided his faltering steps across the
square to the Wishing Post. She touched it and wished Santa Claus to
have his eyes again. Then she turned and asked him, “Can you see?”
“Not yet,” he answered, so she tried it again. The second wish failed
just as the first. Maida was dismayed.
“Something is the matter,” she cried. “I’ve wished and wished but it
doesn’t come true. What shall we do?”
Santa Claus tottered toward her. “Aren’t you ashamed to play tricks on
a poor old blind man--one who loved you so?” he asked. Of course that
made poor Maida feel worse than ever.
“I wasn’t playing tricks,” she sobbed, “indeed--indeed I wasn’t. But it
doesn’t seem to work, though I tried my best. Can’t--can’t you ‘think’
yourself a new pair of eyes?”
“I can only think toys,” replied Santa Claus in a hopeless tone,
turning away. He stumbled a wee bit and reached out his hand to save
himself from falling. As he did so he touched the Wishing Post. “I wish
they couldn’t arrest Billy,” he said. Now, he didn’t realize he was
touching the Wishing Post, but, of course, the Post didn’t know that,
and it went to work to give him his wish. The gates of the prison flew
open, there was a noise like breaking chains and rending bars, then
Billy came out of the jail as if he were propelled by some invisible
force. A half dozen policemen followed him, but every time they touched
him they turned somersaults or flew up in the air and fell about, till
finally they grew frightened, ran inside the jail, and locked the
doors, leaving Billy standing staring about amazed. But he soon saw
Santa Claus and Maida and started over to them.
[Illustration: The Gates of the Prison Flew Open]
“Oh Billy--Billy boy,” cried Maida, as he drew near, “come quick,
quick.” So Billy ran. Maida rattled on almost breathless, with mingled
hope and fear--“I tried to wish his eyes back and I can’t. _You_ try.”
So Billy tried, and in a moment Santa Claus had his eyes back and
could see as well as ever. How he did hug Maida and then Billy, and
what a happy trio they were.
“And now,” said Maida, “that the Wishing Post is at work again, I’m
going to be a young lady.” So she made her wish. “Has it happened?” she
inquired.
“No,” said Billy.
“That’s funny,” she observed, “my first wish came true in a jiffy.”
“Have you had one?” asked Billy. She told him “yes.”
“Too bad,” he replied, “you can’t have another for a long time. The law
is, only one within a year.”