“Last night,” he read out pompously, “Michael Banks, of Number Seventeen, Cherry Tree Lane – a little house on the planet Earth – gave expression to three wishes.”
“Three?” cried Michael. “I never did!”
“Shush!” warned the King. “Don’t interrupt.”
“Wish Number One,” the Lord Chamberlain read, “was that he could have some luck!”
A memory stirred in Michael’s mind. He saw himself on the window-seat, gazing up at the sky.
“Oh, now I remember!” he agreed. “But it wasn’t very important.”
“All wishes are important!” The Lord Chamberlain looked at him severely.
“Well – and what happened?” the King enquired. “I presume the wish came true?”
Michael reflected. It had been a most unusual day, full of all kinds of luck.
“Yes, it did!” he admitted cheerfully.
“In what way?” asked the King. “Do tell us!”
“Well,” began Michael, “I scraped the cake bowl—”
“Scraped the cake bowl?” the cats repeated. They stared as though he were out of his wits.
“Fancy!” the three Princesses purred.
The King wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Some people have strange ideas of luck! But do continue, please!”
Michael straightened his shoulders proudly. “And then – because it was hot, you know – the Admiral let me borrow his hat!” What would they say to that? he wondered. They would surely be green with envy.
But the cats merely flicked their tails and silently gazed at the skull-and-crossbones.
“Well, everyone to his own taste,” said the King after a pause. “The question is – is it comfortable?”
“Er – not exactly,” Michael admitted. For the hat did not fit him anywhere. “It’s rather heavy,” he added.
“H’m!” the King murmured. “Well, please go on!”
“Then Daddy gave me a shilling this morning. But I lost it in the grass.”
“How much use is a lost shilling?” The way the King put the question, it sounded like a conundrum.
Michael wished he had been more careful.
“Not much,” he said. Then he brightened up.
“Oh – and Aunt Flossie sent me a bar of chocolate.”
He felt for it in his trouser pocket and realised, as he fished it out, that he must have been sitting on it. For now it was only a flattened mass with bits of fluff all over it and a nail embedded among the nuts.
The cats eyed the object fastidiously.
“If you ask me,” said the King, looking squeamish, “I much prefer a bat to that!”
Michael also stared at the chocolate. How quickly all his luck had vanished! There was nothing left to show for it.
“Read on, Lord Chamberlain!” ordered the King.
The old cat gave his wig a pat.
“The second wish was—” he turned the page – “that the others would leave him alone.”
“It wasn’t!” cried Michael uncomfortably.
But he saw himself, even as he spoke, pushing the Twins away.
“Well,” he said lamely, “perhaps it was. But I didn’t really mean it!”
The King straightened up on his golden cushion.
“You made a wish that you didn’t mean? Wasn’t that rather dangerous?”
“And did they leave you alone?” asked the Queen. Her eyes were very inquisitive.
Michael considered. Now that he came to think of it, in spite of his luck, the day had been lonely. Jane had played her own games. The Twins had hardly been near him. And Mary Poppins, although she had treated him most politely, had certainly left him alone.
“Yes,” he admitted unwillingly.
“Of course they did!” the King declared. “If you wish on the first star, it always comes true, especially—” he twirled his whiskers – “if it happens to be ours. Well, what about the third wish?”
The Lord Chamberlain adjusted his glasses.
“He wished to be miles from everybody and somewhere where he could have all the fun.”
“But that was only a sort of joke! I didn’t even realise I was looking at a star. And I never thought of it coming true.”
“Exactly so! You never thought! That’s what all of them say.” The King regarded him quizzically.
“All?” echoed Michael. “Who else said it?”
“Dear me!” The King gave a dainty yawn. “You don’t think you’re the only child who has wished to be miles away! I assure you, it’s quite a common request. And one – when it’s wished on our star – that we find very useful. Very useful indeed!” he repeated. “Malkin!” He waved to a courtier. “Be good enough to draw the curtain!”
A young cat, whom Michael recognised as the one that had accompanied him from the Park, sprang to the back of the hall.
The golden curtain swung aside, disclosing the palace kitchens.
“Now, come along!” cried Malkin sternly. “Hurry up, all! No dawdling!”
“Yes, Malkin!”
“No, Malkin!”
“Coming, Malkin!”
A chorus of treble voices answered. And Michael saw, to his surprise, that the kitchen was full of children.
There were boys and girls of every size, all of them working frantically at different domestic tasks.
Some were washing up golden plates, others were shining the cats’ gold collars. One boy was skinning mice, another was boning bats, and two more were down on their knees busily scrubbing the floor. Two little girls in party dresses were sweeping up fishbones and sardine tins and putting them into a golden dustbin. Another was sitting under a table winding a skein of golden wool. They all looked very forlorn and harassed, and the child beneath the table was weeping.
The Lord Chamberlain looked at her and gave an impatient growl.
“Be quick with that wool, now, Arabella! The Princesses want to play cat’s-cradle!”
The Queen stretched out her hind leg to a boy in a sailor suit.
“Come, Robert,” she said in a fretful voice. “It’s time to polish my claws.”
“I’m hungry!” whined the eldest Princess.
“Matilda! Matilda!” Malkin thundered. “A haddock for Princess Tiger-Lily! And Princess Marigold’s sugared milk! And a rat for the Princess Crocus!”
A girl in plaits and a pinafore appeared with three golden bowls. The Princesses nibbled a morsel each and tossed the rest to the floor. And several children ran in and began to sweep up the scraps.
The King glanced slyly across at Michael and smiled at his astonishment.
“Our servants are very well trained, don’t you think? Malkin insists on them toeing the line. They keep the palace like a new pin. And they cost us practically nothing.”
“But,” began Michael in a very small voice. “Do the children do all the work?”
“Who else?” said the King, with the lift of an eyebrow. “You could hardly expect a cat to do it! Cats have other and better occupations. A cat in the kitchen – what an idea! Out duty is to be wise and handsome – isn’t that enough?”
Michael’s face was full of pity as he gazed at the luckless children.