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So Mollie suddenly spilt the plate of biscuits all over the floor, and Peter spilt a cup of coffee.

Mother looked vexed. "Oh, dear—how clumsy of you!" she said. "Go and ask Jane if she will please bring a cloth, Mollie. And 1 think you and Peter had better go now. I don't want anything else spilt."

"Sorry, Mother," said Peter.

They shot out of the room. Mollie called to Jane to take a cloth to wipe up the coffee, and then both children raced down to the playroom.

"I hope Chinky hasn't gone off in the chair by himself," panted Peter. "If he saw us with all those visitors he might think we couldn't possibly come - and then he'd fly off alone."

They got to the playroom door just as Chinky was flying out in the Wishing-Chair. They bumped into one another, and Peter caught hold of one of the chair's legs.

"Just in time!" he cried. "Help us up, Chinky!"

Chinky pulled them up with him. Then the chair flapped its green and yellow wings and flew strongly up into the air.

"I was afraid you wouldn't be able to come," said Chinky. "I was just setting off by myself. The chair had only grown its wings a few minutes be¬fore I peeped in at the window."

"What fine, big, strong wings it's got now," said Peter. "They make quite a draught round my legs. It will be able to fly faster now."

"Where are we going?" asked Mollie.

"I don't know," said Chinky. "1 just said to the chair, 'Go and find my wand, and Rosebud, and the rest of the toys,' and it seemed to know the place 1 meant, because it rose up at once. I've no idea where we shall land. I only hope it's some-where nice. It would be awful to go to the Village of Slipperies, or to the Land of Rubbish, or some¬where like that."

"Oh dear—1 hope it's somewhere nice, too," said Mollie. "The chair is flying very high, isn't it?"

"Do you think it may be going to Toyland?" asked Peter. "I wouldn't mind that at all. After all, most of the things were toys. I think it's very likely they may have gone there."

"It certainly seems to be taking the way to

Toyland as far as I remember," said Chinky, peer¬ing down. "I know we pass over the Village of Golliwogs before we reach Toyland, and we're very near that now. There's Toyland, far over there. That must be where we're going."

But it wasn't. The chair suddenly began to fly down and down at a great rate, and it was plain that it was going to land.

"Well! This isn't Toyland!" said Chinky in sur¬prise. "Good gracious! I do believe it's the school run by Mister Grim, for Bad Brownies. Surely the toys haven't gone there!"

The chair landed in the grounds of a big house, just near a wall. Chinky and the children got off. They pushed the chair under a bush to hide it. Then they looked cautiously round.

From the big building in the distance came a chanting noise. The children and Chinky listened.

"1 mustn't scream or whistle or shout Because Mister Grim is always about, I mustn't stamp or slam any door Or jump or slide on the schoolroom floor, I mustn't be greedy, untidy or lazy Because Mister Grim would be driven

quite crazy, I mustn't be slow, and I MUST be quick, Because Mister Grim has a very BIG STICK!" "Ooooh!" said Mollie. "I don't like the sound of that. That must be the poor Bad Brownies learn¬ing verses for Mr. Grim."

"Yes," said Chinky. "I do wish we hadn't come

here. I've half a mind to get in the Wishing-Chair and go off again. I've always been told that Mister Grim is a very hard master. We don't want to be caught by him."

"CaughtV said Peter. "But we're two children and a pixie—we're not brownies—and this is a school for brownies."

"I know," said Chinky. "I just don't like the feel of this place, that's all. If you think it's all right, we'll stay and see if we can possibly find where our toys are."

"I think we'd better," said Peter. "Well—what's the first thing to do?"

"Listen—is that the brownies coming out to play?" said Mollie as a perfect babel of noise reached them. Then came the sound of feet run¬ning and in a trice about fifty small brownies sur¬rounded them. They all looked merry, mischievous little fellows, too young to have grown their brownie beards yet.

"Who are you? Are you new pupils for this awful school?" asked a small brownie, pushing himself forward. "My name's Winks. What's yours?"

All the little brownies crowded round, listen¬ing eagerly. Chinky pushed them back.

"Don't crowd so. No, we haven't come to your school. We came because we're looking for things we've lost, and we think they may be somewhere here. My name's Chinky. These are real children, Peter and Mollie"

"Well, be careful Mister Grim doesn't see you," said Winks. "He's in a very bad temper these days—worse than he's ever been."

"Why?" asked Peter.

"Because we found the cupboard where he kept his canes and we broke the whole lot!" chuckles the brownie. "Every one of them."

"Can't he slap you or smack you, though?" said Peter.

"Oh, yes—but we dodge," said Winks. "Can't dodge a cane very well, though. I say —do be care¬ful he doesn't catch you."

"What are you looking for?" asked another brownie. "I'm Hoho; you can trust me."

"Well, said Chinky, "we came here to look for a lot of flying toys—and my new wand. It had wings, too."

"Flying toys!" said Winks. "And a flying wand. Well! Have we seen anything like that, boys?"

"Yes!" shouted Hoho at once. "Don't you re¬member? Yesterday evening we saw something very peculiar—we thought they were curious birds flying about in the air. They must have been your toys."

"What happened to them?" asked Peter.

"Well, old Grim was out in the garden smoking his evening pipe," said Hoho. "And he suddenly looked up and saw them, too. He was very excited, and called out some words we couldn't hear "

"And what we thought were the peculiar birds came right down to him," said Winks. "But they must have been your toys on the way to Toyland!

He caught sight of them and made them come to him!"

"Well, whatever can he do with them?" said Hoho. "We are never allowed any toys at all. I sup¬pose he will sell them to his friend the Magician Sly-Boots."

"Oh dear," said Mollie. "Well, we must try and get them before he does. Will you show us where you think Mister Grim might have hidden our toys?"

"Yes, we'll show you!" shouted the brownies. "But do be careful you aren't caught!"

They took Chinky and the children to the big building, all walking on tiptoe and shushing each other.

Hoho led them inside. He pointed to a winding stair. "Go up there," he whispered. "You'll come to a little landing. On the left side is a door. That's the storeroom, where I expect Mister Grim has put the toys."

"Creep in—and see if you can find them," whis¬pered Winks.

"Come on," said Chinky to the others. "It's now or never! If we find our things we'll take them and rush down and out into the garden, and be off in the Wishing-Chair before Mister Grim even knows we're here!"

"Sh!" said Mollie, and they all began to go up the stairs on tiptoe. "Shhhhhhh!"

MISTER GRIM'S SCHOOL FOR BAD BROWNIES

Up the stairs went the three, treading very quietly indeed, hoping that not one of the stairs would creak or crack.

The brownies crowded round the door at the bottom of the stairs, holding their breath and watch¬ing. Up and up and up—and there was the landing at last! Now for the door on the left.

They saw the door. They tiptoed to it and Peter turned the handle. Would it be locked? No, it wasn't!

They peeped inside. Yes, it was the storeroom, and stacks of books, pencils, rulers, ink-bottles, old desks, and all kinds of things were there.

"Can't see our toys," whispered Chinky. "or my wand. Let's look in all the drawers and all the cup¬boards."

So they began opening the drawers and hunt¬ing in them, and pulling open the cupboard doors and peering in at the shelves. But they could find nothing more exciting than books and pens and rubbers.

And then Chinky gave a soft cry. "Look here," he said. "Here they are!"

The other ran quickly over to him. He had opened a big chest—and there, lying quietly in the

top of it, their wings vanished, lay all the toys they had lost— yes, Rosebud was there, and Peter's en¬gine, and the top and the soldiers— everything.

But wait—no, not quite everything. "I can't see my wand anywhere," said Chinky, hunting des¬perately. "Oh, where is it?"

They hunted all through the chest, but there didn't seem to be any wand there. They looked in despair at one another. They simply must find Chinky's wand.

"I'm glad we've found the toys," whispered Chinky, "but it's dreadful that I can't find my wand. It's got a lot of magic in it, you know. I wouldn't want Mister Grim to use that."

Then the children heard a noise that froze them to the floor. Footsteps —footsteps coming slowly and heavily up the stairs. Not light, quick, brownie steps, but slow, ponderous ones. Would the foot¬steps come to the storeroom?

In panic the children and Chinky squeezed themselves into a cupboard, not having time to put away the toys they had pulled out of the chest. The door opened—and somebody walked in!

The children hardly dared to breathe and Chinky almost choked. Then a voice spoke.

"SOMEONE has been here. SOMEONE has tried to steal toys. And that SOMEONE is here still. Come out!"

The children didn't move. They were much too scared to do a thing. And then poor Chinky choked! He choked again, then coughed loudly.

Footsteps marched to the cupboard and the door was flung wide open.

There stood Mister Grim—exactly like his name! He was a big, burly brownie, with a tre¬mendous beard falling to the floor. He had pointed ears and shaggy eyebrows that almost hid his eyes.

"HO!" he said in a booming voice. "So the SOMEONE is not one person, but three!"

Peter, Mollie and Chinky came out, poor Chinky still coughing. Mister Grim took them each firmly by the back of the neck and sat them down on the window-seat.

"And now will you kindly tell me why you came to steal my toys?" he said. "How did you know they were there, and who told you about them?"

"They're not your toys, sir," Peter said at last in rather a trembling voice. "They're ours. We let them grow wings yesterday by using Growing Ointement on them—and they flew away. We came to fetch them."

"A very likely story indeed," said Mister Grim scornfully. "And how did you come here?"

"Up the stairs," said Mollie.

Mister Grim frowned a fierce frown. "Don't be foolish, girl," he said. "I mean, how did you arrive here—by bus or train—and how did you get into the grounds?"

Chinky gave the others a sharp nudge. Mollie had just been going to say that they had come in their Wishing-Chair, but she shut her mouth again tightly. Of course she mustn't give that away! Why,

Mister Grim would search the grounds and find it!

"Well?" said Mister Grim. "I am asking you a question—and when 1 ask questions I expect them to be answered."

Still no reply from any of the three. Mister Grim leaned forward. "Shall I tell you how you came? You must have friends here among the brownies —and they helped you to climb the wall, and told you to take the toys! Aha! Don't try to say you didn't do that."

They didn't say a word. Mister Grim got up and put the toys back in the chest. "You," he said to Chinky, "yow are a pixie, and I don't usually take pixies into my school. But you are a very bad pixie, I can see, and I shall keep you here. And I shall keep these two as well. I'm not sure what they are—but even if they are real, proper chil¬dren, which I very much doubt, they deserve to be punished by being my pupils here for a term."

"Oh, no!" said Mollie in horror. "What will our mother say? You can't do that."

"You will see," said Mister Grim. "Now go downstairs, find the brownie called Winks, and tell him you are to come into class when the bell rings. He will give you books and pencils and tell you where to sit."

The three of them had to go downstairs in a row, Mister Grim behind them. They were fright¬ened! Unless they could manage somehow to get to their Wishing-Chair, they would simply have to

stay at Mister Grim's school!

They found Winks and told him quickly what had happened. He was very sorry. "Bad luck!" he said. "Very bad luck. Come on—I'll get you your books and things. Sit by me in class and I'll try and help you all I can."

He took them into a big room and gave them books and pencils. Almost at once a bell rang loudly and all the brownies trooped in quickly. Not one of them spoke a word. They took their places qui¬etly and waited.

"Why were you sent here, Winks?" whispered Chinky as they all waited for Mister Grim to ap¬pear.

"Because I used my grandmother's Blue Spell and turned all her pigs blue," whispered back Winks.

"And I was sent here because 1 put a spell into my father's shoe-tongues and they were rude to him all the way down our street and back," whis¬pered Hoho.

"And I was sent because " began another

brownie, when slow and heavy footsteps were heard. In came Mister Grim and stood at his big desk.

"Sit!" he said, as if the brownies were all little dogs. They sat.

"We have three new pupils," said Mister Grim. "I regret to say that I caught them stealing— STEALING—from my storeroom. If I find out who helped them into this school and told them about the toys they came to steal, I shall take my stick to him. Brrrrrr!"

This was very frightening. Mollie didn't even dare to cry. She comforted herself by thinking of the Wishing-Chair hidden under the bush in the garden. They would run to it as soon as ever they could!

"Now we will have mental numbers," said Mis¬ter Grim, and a little groan ran round the class. "You, boy, what number is left when you take eighty-two and sixty-four from one hundred and three?"

He was pointing at poor Peter. Peter went red. What a silly question! You couldn't take eighty- two and sixty-four from one hundred and three.

"Say six hundred and fifty," whispered Winks. "He doesn't know the answer himself!"

"Six hundred and fifty," said Peter boldly. Ev¬eryone clapped as if he were right.