“Oh! oh! oh!” sobbed Peter.
And their eyes were red and their faces quite wet and dirty.
“I shall fall,” said Peter.
“I can’t hold on much longer,” said Anna. And then they both sobbed “Oh! oh! oh!” again.
Then they heard a voice saying, “Oh! oh! oh!” after them. Only it was not any one crying, for the “oh! oh! oh!” had a very sweet sound.
They could not look round, for they dared not move their heads, and they dared not look down for fear of getting dizzy. But the voice seemed to be coming nearer. And so it was, for a fairy gate, with a tree beside it, and a little bit of ground to stand upon, was shooting up into the air just as the wall had done. And when it was as high as the wall it stopped, and Peter and Anna saw that a boy was leaning against the gate. He was playing on a whistle-pipe, and that made the sound they had heard.
“I will play you a tune,” said the boy. And he played so softly and sweetly that Peter and Anna left off crying.
“How did you come up?” asked Anna.
“On the gate,” said the boy.
“How are you going down?” asked Peter.