“That’s strange!” she exclaimed, and then she noticed that she had her foot upon a bright green stone, frozen into the ice.
“It’s a Wishing Stone!” explained Tibbs, who was also growing rapidly smaller.
“’Es, so it is,” cried Kiddiwee. But how either of them knew anything about it was a puzzle, for they had never seen it before.
“Hurrah!” exclaimed Coppertop joyfully, realising the power that the Wishing Stone gave her. “I’ll wish for a fine, hot——”
Before she could say “December day” a gust of warm wind blew round them, and the sun came out through the hazy sky and shone brightly upon them.
“It IS a December day!” she cried, clapping her hands with joy.
“It is the right day at last!”
“But in the wrong place!” sneered a voice from a passing cloud. And looking up, the children saw the mean, spiteful face of the Clerk of the Weather.
“What does he mean by that?” growled Tibbs. “I’d like to punch that chap!”
But they soon found out what he meant. For the snow and the ice all round them were melting rapidly with the heat of the December day sun upon it.