"Oh, what am I to do?" exclaimed Marianne anxiously, "I'm not tall enough to reach you! Shall I fetch my Aunt Olga, or would you prefer my old nurse?"
"Certainly not," said the voice, with decision. "I have never been seen by a grown-up person, and I don't intend to begin now. Either you must get me down by yourself, or I shall manage to work out at the top again—and then I'm sorry to say you'll have to go without your presents."
Marianne sat down on the hearthrug in a state of anxious consideration. There waved the great brown feet, and two or three steps would land them safely on the hearthrug, but how could it possibly be managed?
The Chintz Imp curled up his green legs and sat down beside her, his bright red eyes blinking thoughtfully.
"We must hang on to him," he said at last; "or what do you say to my trying to collect a dozen or so children, to pull?"
"Why they'd all be in bed hours ago," said Marianne. "Besides, their parents would never let them come, and Uncle Max would want to know whatever we were doing."
"Yes. I see that idea is no good. Have you such a thing as a pocket-knife?" enquired the Chintz Imp.
"A beauty," said Marianne; "four blades, a button-hook, and a corkscrew."
"Ah, the corkscrew might be of some use if we could draw him out with it; but he might object. However, I'll try what I can do with the knife."
"You won't cut him! You'll have to be very careful!"