As you know, wizards work very hard; and about once a year, usually towards the middle of March, they take a holiday—and then very extraordinary things happen.
One March night this particular Wizard set off upon his holiday as usual.
Before he went he looked round to see that everything was tidy and in its place. Yes, there was the Cat dozing in front of the fire. The Fiddle was standing upright in a corner of the room. The Dish was on the dresser and the Spoon in the basket. The little Dog was guarding the door outside. The Cow was lying by the cow-tub in the yard. All looked peaceful and in order.
So the Wizard put all his magic into his tall black hat, shut the door, and went out.
When he had passed through the farmyard gate he locked and bolted it behind him. But the lock was very stiff, and in turning and pulling out the key, his black hat got pushed on one side, so that a little of the magic escaped, and filtered back through the keyhole.
The Wizard, without stopping to think what might happen, pulled his hat straight, and went off into the wide world to enjoy his holiday.
The little bit of magic floated slowly in through the farm-yard gate; over the Cow by the cow-tub; over the little Dog guarding the door; through the keyhole of the door; over the Cat dozing in front of the fire; into the corner where stood the Fiddle; into the basket where lay the Spoon; and finally rested on the Dish on the dresser shelf. The Dish yawned, steadied himself, slowly dismounted from the dresser, and balanced himself on the kitchen table.
"Spoon, my love," he said wearily.
"Yes, my sweet," answered the Spoon, tripping out of the basket on to the table beside him.
"I can make love as well as that, and better," said the Cow, poking her head through the kitchen window.