There, sure enough, was a large plate of beef on George's knees, and Alexander was contentedly gnawing a huge bone.
"I've got no knife and fork," said George, looking at his plate longingly.
"Why don't you ask for them?" grumbled the witch. "You don't expect knives and forks to come of themselves, do you?"
"A knife and fork, please!" He had hardly spoken when Golden Girl got up—where had she found them?—and handed him a knife and fork; just the right size too!
"Aren't you going to have something to eat?" asked George.
"By and by," replied the witch. "Perhaps I shall eat you if I get very hungry," and she smiled as if it were a good joke.
There never was such good roast beef, and George was quite sorry when it was all finished.
"Might I have some apple tart—and a spoon," he added quickly, just remembering in time.
The apple tart appeared from nowhere, and George, when he had finished it, said his grace to himself, so as not to make the others feel that they had had no lunch.