Wendell knew the answer to that, but he didn’t give it. He took his lecture silently, standing 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.{14}

CHAPTER III

THE PIXIE’S FIRST TASK

HE Pixie came that evening, true to his word. Wendell, undisturbed by fractions, luxuriously idling over his fairy books, looked up suddenly and there sat the funny little fellow on the foot of the bed.

“How are you?” said the Pixie. “I didn’t have time to say good-bye to-day. Your Miss Ounce turned the door-handle too quickly.”

“That’s all right,” said Wendell. “Are you ready to spring my first task yet?”

“Yes, sir,” said the Pixie gleefully. “And you can’t say it isn’t up to the minute. You must bring me an aeroplane that you have found traveling underground.”

“Why, there’s no such thing,” said Wendell vexedly. “An aeroplane traveling underground! How silly! An aeroplane doesn’t travel underground. How can it?”

“Don’t ask me,” shrugged the Pixie. “How{15} should I know? You can’t expect me to make up the tasks and think up the answers too. Be reasonable.” And he vanished.

Wendell was greatly cast down.

“It’s a fool task,” he said as he went to bed. “In fact, it’s impossible.”

He woke with a sense of calamity hanging over