“I never studied them. We don’t have them.”
The fairy sighed painfully. “What are we coming to? What are we coming to? Never studied ography or comeology or non-stupidity! Oh dear! Oh my!” His long, thin, pointed nose twitched up and down and sideways under the stress of his emotion. “Well, well, there isn’t time to give you a lesson now. You’ll have to do the best you can. I’m very late. By the way, when you’re through with the football just say ‘Og!’ seven times and it will come back to me. But be careful not to say it seven times if you don’t want to lose it. Thank you for a very pleasant evening.” The fairy made a ridiculous bow, hat in hand, and backed away toward the dark corner of the room. Tommy started to remind him that it wasn’t evening, but concluded that it would only offend him, and so he didn’t. Instead,
“Thank you very much for the football,” he said. “Would you mind telling me who it is you are going to call on in Meadowville?”
“The name is—the name is——” The fairy lifted one foot and peered at the sole of a pointed shoe. “The name is Frank Lester. Do you know him?”
“N-no, but I know who he is,” answered Tommy anxiously. “He’s captain of the Meadowville Grammar School Football Team, and I’ll just bet he’s going to wish they’ll win the game!”
The fairy frowned with annoyance. “I can’t have that,” he said, shaking his head rapidly. “Besides, all the magic footballs are out. He will have to wish for something else.”
“But—but suppose he doesn’t?”
“‘Suppose!’ ‘Suppose!’ I’d just like to know,” exclaimed the fairy, “how many supposes you’ve supposed! You’re the most suppositionary boy I ever did see!”
“But if he did wish that,” pursued Tommy, “you’d have to give him his wish, wouldn’t you?”