The fairy grinned slyly and put a long finger beside his nose. “If wishes were fishes,” he said, “beggars would ride.”
“I—I don’t think that’s just the way it goes,” said Tommy.
“Then don’t ask me,” replied the other indignantly. “Besides, you have kept me here until I am awfully late for my appointment. I must be—I must be——”
The fairy caught off his hat and began twirling it about on the tip of the feather.
“One—two—three——!” he began to count.
The hat twirled like a top and Tommy, watching it, felt his head swim and his eyes grow heavy.
“Twelve—thirteen—fourteen—twenty-eight——” came the voice of the fairy as though from a long ways off. Tommy wanted to tell him that twenty-eight didn’t follow fourteen, but he was too sleepy to speak.
“Thirty-three—thirty-six—thirty-two—fifteen——”
It was just a whisper now, away off in the hazy distance....
Tommy sat up suddenly and stared. The fairy was gone. He rubbed his eyes. After all, then, it was just a dream! But as he stirred something rolled from his lap to the floor and went bouncing away under the couch. It was the magic football.