“Pin, pin, let me in.
Needles are banished,
All of them vanished;
I am a trusty Pin.”
Immediately a door in the rock opened, disclosing a flight of stairs, down which the elf conducted Harry. The stairs ended in a small, well-lighted room, with several passageways leading out of it. They entered one of these, and after walking a short distance, came to a long, steep incline, the floor of which shone like polished glass.
“Hold on!” cried Harry in alarm; “that’s too steep and slippery to walk on. It looks like glass.”
“It is glass,” said the elf, “and we are going to slide down. You needn’t be afraid. It’s safe enough, and I’ll go in front.”
He sat down on the brow of the hill, and continued: “You sit down behind me and stick your feet on each side of me, and I’ll steer you straight. All ready? Well, here goes! Hold on to my hat!”
Whiz! away they went, and in about ten seconds reached the bottom, where a short, level space with a gentle rise at the end of it brought them to a gradual standstill.
“Glorious!” exclaimed Harry, springing to his feet. “Beats coasting all hollow! Let’s go back and try it again.”