Enid Blyton (5 page)

Now whilst Jackie was busily watching the clock, waiting till a minute had gone by, Mr. Pink-Whistle carefully and quickly put the tiny rabbit into Jackie's bed, at the foot. Then he said the words that made him appear, and just as Jackie had counted the whole minute, there was Mr. Pink-Whistle grinning away at him at the foot of the bed, his green eyes shining brightly.

"Oh! How nice and funny and jolly you are!" cried Jackie—and then he gave a squeal, because something was creeping up his bed. He put his hand down—and pulled out a baby-rabbit!

"You're more magic than the other 
conjurer!" shouted Jackie. "You really are! You're—you're ..."

And just then the door opened and Jackie's mother came in to see what the noise was. Mr. Pink-Whistle disappeared just in time.

"Look! Look! A conjurer has been here, and he made this rabbit come out of my bed!" squealed Jackie. "Oh, I'm so happy! It's my very own rabbit for me!"

"But there's no conjurer here!" said Jackie's mother in astonishment, looking all round. And yet—the rabbit was certainly there. How very, very strange!

A little giggle came from the window, out of which Mr. Pink-Whistle was quietly climbing. Down he went—and off into the world again to find something else to put right. Hurry, Mr. Pink-Whistle!

THE DOG WHO LOST HIS COLLARS

NOW once Mr. Pink-Whistle had a rather queer adventure. It was with a little terrier dog.

The dog's name was Jinky, and it lived with its master and mistress in a nice little house in the town. Jinky was a friendly dog, and loved to welcome people, and he was always ready to put out his small red tongue to lick anyone.

But now, week after week, he was in disgrace. His mistress and master scolded him hard—and now he had been whipped.

It was the first time, and he was very unhappy.

"You are a very bad little dog to keep losing your nice new collars!" his mistress said to him. "You lost your first new red collar, and we bought you a green one with your name on it. You lost that the very next day! Then you had a fine brown one with bright studs all round it— and you came home without it the next week! And now you have lost the new blue one we gave you yesterday!"

"Woof!" said Jinky sadly.

"You are very naughty not to want to wear your collar," said his master sternly. "All dogs wear collars. So do their masters! You should be proud to be like your master! I can't imagine how you get your collar off, you bad dog, but just remember this, that you will be whipped and locked up in your kennel every time you do it!"

Jinky's master banged the kennel-gate and left poor Jinky shut up inside. He was very sad. He lay and whined pitifully. It wasn't fair! He hadn't
lost
his collars! A horrid big boy had taken them away from him each time! But he couldn't tell his master that, because he could only talk doggy language, and no two-legged people understood it.

Just then somebody came by who 
did 
understand whines and yelps and barks. It was fat little Mr. Pink-Whistle of course! He was half a brownie, and his big pointed ears could understand all that the birds and animals said, just as the real brownies could.

So Mr. Pink-Whistle could hear all that poor Jinky was saying as he passed by the little house. To you and to me it might have sounded like "Ooooo! Oooooo! Oooooo! Yelp, yelp, yelp! Oooooo!! Oooooo"

But to Mr. Pink-Whistle it sounded like this: "Oh, how sad I am! Oh, how unfair everything is! Oh, what a poor little dog I am, whipped for nothing! Oh, how I love my master and mistress, and now I have made them unhappy; but I couldn't help it, and they have made me unhappy too—but they could help it! Oh, tails and whiskers, I wish I wasn't a dog!"

Mr. Pink-Whistle stopped and listened in astonishment.

What could be the matter with the poor little dog? He made himself disappear and then he walked up the garden path and looked for the kennel. Inside was Jinky, his head on his paws, whining away to himself.

"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Pink-Whistle in surprise. Jinky looked up. He couldn't see anyone, but he could smell somebody. How queer!

"It's all right," said Mr. Pink-Whistle, patting Jinky. "I'm here, though you can't see me! Tell me, what's the matter?"

So Jinky told him his trouble. "I'm being punished for something I didn't do," he whined. "But my master doesn't understand me when I try to tell him. A nasty, horrid boy keeps putting down lovely bones in the next street, and when I go to smell the bone, the boy pops out and catches me. Then he takes off my collar, and sends me home without it."

"Well, what a wicked thing to do!" said Mr. Pink-Whistle, very angry. "And you've been whipped for that! Poor little dog, it's a shame! It's not fair! I must put it right."

He undid the kennel-gate and Jinky slipped out of his kennel and out of the yard into the garden. "Now you come along with me," said Mr. Pink-Whistle.

"We'll go and find this boy. Keep at my heels. You can smell them, even if you can't see them! We'll do to that boy a little of what he has done to you."

Together they trotted down the street and round the corner. People meeting them only saw a small dog with a new collar round his neck—but Mr. Pink - Whistle was there all right too! But he couldn't be seen.

"Look!" said the dog, stopping.

"There's a lovely bone over there. I'm sure it's put there by that boy, so that I or any other dog shall go to it. Then he would catch us and steal our collars."

"Well, you run up to it and smell it," said Mr. Pink-Whistle. "Don't be afraid. I shall be near you."

So Jinky ran up to the bone—and close beside him was Mr. Pink-Whistle. As soon as Jinky reached the bone and sniffed at it, a big arm came over the fence and caught hold of the little dog. He was pulled right over the fence—and there behind the fence was a big boy with a horrid sly face.

"Another collar!" he grinned. But he didn't grin long! No—something most extraordinary happened!

Something took hold of him and wrenched at
his
collar! Something pulled at his tie. Something jerked at his coat— and before he could do anything to stop

it, his collar, tie, and coat were taken right off him.

"Don't! What is it? Who is it? I can't see anyone!" cried the frightened boy. "Go away! Go away!"

"I'm only doing to you what you've done to little dogs!" said a stern voice in his ear. "Off with your shirt! Off with your boots! Off with your stockings!"

Off came everything except the boy's vest and trousers! Then a large fat hand spanked the boy well and set him howling loudly.

"Next time you think of stealing anything, just think of Mr. Pink-Whistle!" hissed a voice in his ear. "Yes—Mr. Pink-Whistle! I'll come after you again and take your clothes away if you dare to steal another collar from a dog!"

"Mr. P-p-p-p-pink-Whistle, please give me b-b-b-back my clothes!" wept the boy.

"My mother will whip me if I go home without them."

"Good!" said Mr. Pink - Whistle. "Very good. Go home and get whipped then!"

And the angry little man pushed the naughty boy so that he almost fell on to his nose. He ran off, howling and crying, wondering fearfully who Mr. Pink-Whistle

was. He couldn't see him—but he was there all right!

Mr. Pink-Whistle went to the nearest dust-bin and stuffed the clothes in without being seen by anyone. Jinky licked his hand, after smelling about it for some time. The little dog thought Mr. Pink-Whistle was wonderful.

"Now you go home, too," said the fat little man, patting Jinky kindly. "And don't be afraid of that boy any more. He's not likely to worry you or any other little dog again!"

Then off went Jinky very merrily, his tail in the air. Off went Mr. Pink-Whistle too—and you may be sure that if he had had a tail, it would have been straight up in the air as well, just like Jinky's!