“I might help,” said the Pixie. “I rather like a lark of that kind.”
“Oh, if you’d help,” said Wendell. “That would be great. What could you do?”
“Well, I have some rather neat transformation charms, myself,” said the Pixie. “I suppose if I once got you into the house, you could do the rest.”
“I guess so,” said Wendell. “I could hide in the oven or something.”
“I’ll have to make you pretty small to get into one of these gas ranges they use now-a-days,” said the Pixie thoughtfully. “You have to think of everything, you know, in this business, or else you lose by a fluke. I have it. I’ll change myself into an organ grinder, and you into the monkey.”
“Yes!” jeered Wendell. “Nice chance a monkey would have to be let into anybody’s house.”
“Well, of course,” said the Pixie, somewhat crestfallen, “it was only a suggestion.”
“It’s got to be something that anybody would be glad to have in their house,” said Wendell. “Something helpful. A furnace man. Or a gas man—to read the meter.”
“Nobody’s glad to have him in their house,” grunted the Pixie. “But I get your idea. Why not a plumber to stop a leak? I have a fine plumber’s transformation among my charms. I’ll be the plumber and you can go as my assistant. Good idea, what?”
“The very thing,” said Wendell.