“Bedtime, my son. Have you finished your lessons?” asked his mother.
“No! Bothersome lot! Can’t make anything of this example—have to give me another half-hour,” muttered Wendell, not really wishing to deceive his dear mother, but a little bit ashamed to tell her how he had neglected his duty.
“I’m sorry, dear, but you’ll have to do it in the morning. You mustn’t lose sleep. And your brain will be clearer then. I’ll tell Jane to call you half an hour early.”
“Many are called, but few get up,” as the proverb hath it. Wendell, next morning, was not one of the few. Jane’s call fell on sleepy ears. He turned over for one more snooze, woke an hour later to find himself ‘way behind time, hustled5 through his dressing6 and his breakfast, and was off to school with lessons unprepared,—a sad thing that happened only too often in his easy-going life.
He managed to slide through most of his recitations, badly but not disgracefully, until he came to the arithmetic class. I might tell you in detail of his tragic7 floundering through problems that he was supposed to have prepared, of his guilty acknowledgment that he had not made up the delinquencies of yesterday and the day before, and of the stern wrath8 that was visited upon him by the arithmetic teacher, a strict and disciplinary spinster, whose patience he had often tried in the past. But this is not a school story. I have to record only such a part of his troublous career as led directly to the wonderful adventure of the Wishing Stone. So, briefly,{10} he was “kept in,” with three days’ problems to finish before he could go home.
His teacher, who bore the singularly happy name of Miss Ounce, left him alone in the deserted9 school-room. She had a lesson to give in another part of the building. Wendell pulled his book in front of him, flipped10 the pages open to the proper place, ran his fingers through his hair, and remained in that attitude, which may have denoted either deep concentration or utter dejection. He read the first problem through twice, and it had no more meaning for him than Dante’s Inferno11 in the original tongue.
“Jee-rusalem!” he said aloud after a long pause.
“Can I be of any assistance?” asked a friendly voice. It came from a little being perched on the desk in front of him, who certainly had not been there a moment before. He was about the size of a two-year-old child, but he had the face of an old man, a genial12 old man with twinkling eyes. His body was very round and quite filled his suit of blue knitted jersey13, and his arms and legs were long and spindling.
“For goodness’ sake, who are you?” gasped14 Wendell.
“I’m a Pixie,” said the being.
“You are?” said Wendell. “I didn’t know there were any—out of fairy stories.”
“But I’m in a fairy story,” explained the Pixie politely. “I’m in the same fairy story you’re in.”
“Am I in one?” said the startled Wendell.
“Since last night,” declared the Pixie. “You wished to be, you know, on the Wishing Stone, after{11} you had run around it nine times. It’s a sure charm.”
“The Wishing Stone! Is that the old Wishing Stone—the alley15 post?”
“Somewhat fallen into disuse,” assented16 the Pixie, “but never-the-less the Wishing Stone.”
“Well, I never!” said Wendell.
It was so stupendous, such an unbelievable piece of good fortune, that at first he did not grasp its possibilities. Then his eye fell on the open book lying on his desk.
“Say!” he exclaimed. “If that’s all true, if I’m really living in a fairy story, there ought to be some way of settling junk like this in short order.” He gave a vindictive17 thump18 to the arithmetic.
“That’s what I came for,” said the Pixie. “I thought I saw a business opening here.”
“You mean—” faltered19 Wendell.
“Why, I’ll do your problems for you. That’s easy. And you do three tasks for me.”
“Three?”
“Yes, it’s always three,” said the Pixie.
“Say, I think I ought to get more than just these problems for three. I think you ought to do my home work till the end of the term.”
“Just as soon,” said the Pixie. “No trouble to me. Is it a bargain?”
“But what will you want me to do?” said Wendell.
“I don’t know what I want you to do,” returned the Pixie. “How should I know? Take a chance. Be a sport.{12}”
“All right,” said Wendell. “I will. Here are the problems.”
“Look in your desk,” said the Pixie immediately.
Wendell opened it. There lay three sheets of large pad paper, covered with problems completely solved. Wendell’s name and the date were written at the top in his own handwriting. The work was done neatly20 enough to pass, but not so excessively neatly as to arouse suspicion.
“Well, you are some little fiend at arithmetic,” pronounced Wendell with great relief.
“Glad you are satisfied,” said the Pixie. “Of course you understand that if you can’t perform my tasks, you belong to me.”
“Well, I might as well belong to you as to Miss Ounce,” ruminated21 Wendell. “Come on with your first task. I suppose it will be water in a sieve22 from the Charles River or something like that. They always are.”
“I should say not,” said the Pixie with scorn in his voice. “That might be all very well for the old Kobold that lives under Flag Staff Hill. It’s just his style, in fact. He’s using the same stuff he did when Merlin was practicing. No, I like to advance with the best thought of the time. I’m no back number. Trust me, I’ll find something up to date.”
“Well, speed up,” said Wendell. “What do you want me to do?”
“How should I know?” said the Pixie. “Give me time. I’ll drop around to-night and let you know.”
Just as he was speaking, the door opened, and in{13} came Miss Ounce, and maybe Wendell didn’t jump! He started so conspicuously23 that Miss Ounce fixed24 him with an accusing eye and said,
“Well, Wendell, up to mischief25, I suppose, instead of doing your work.”
“No, Miss Ounce,” said Wendell, noting with relief that the Pixie was nowhere in sight, and promptly26 handed over his papers.
“Um, um!” murmured Miss Ounce. “Very good! Might be neater. Every one right, though. Now, Wendell, why is it that when you can do such excellent work as this, you have such a shocking daily record? Yes, shocking is the word.”
Wendell knew the answer to that, but he didn’t give it. He took his lecture silently, standing27 first on one foot and then on the other, but his mind was on the magic task that the Pixie was to set him, and as soon as he could he slid out of the room.
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1
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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seraph
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| n.六翼天使 | |
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peek
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| vi.偷看，窥视；n.偷偷的一看，一瞥 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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7
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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8
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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9
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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10
flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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11
inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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14
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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15
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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16
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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18
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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19
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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20
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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21
ruminated
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| v.沉思( ruminate的过去式和过去分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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22
sieve
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| n.筛，滤器，漏勺 | |
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23
conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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24
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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25
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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27
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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