So Corette stepped up to the Practicing Wizard, who was a pleasant, elderly man, with a smooth white face, and a constant smile, which seemed to have grown on his face instead of a beard, and she told him the whole story of the fairy sisters and their cottage, of her great desire to see it, and of the difficulties in the way.
"I know all about those sisters," he said; "I don't wonder you want to see their house. You both wish to see it?"
"Yes," said the Reformed Pirate; "I might as well go with her, if the thing can be done at all."
"Very proper," said the Practicing Wizard, "very proper, indeed. But there is only one way in which it can be done. You must be condensed."
"Does that hurt?" asked Corette.
"Oh, not at all! You'll never feel it. For the two it will be one hundred and eighty ducats," said he, turning to the Reformed Pirate; "we make a reduction when there are more than one."
"Are you willing?" asked the Reformed Pirate of Corette, as he put his hand in his breeches' pocket.
"Oh yes!" said Corette, "certainly I am, if that's the only way."
Whereupon her good friend said no more, but pulled out a hundred and eighty ducats and handed them to the Practicing Wizard, who immediately commenced operations.
Corette and the Reformed Pirate were each placed in a large easy-chair, and upon each of their heads the old white-faced gentleman placed a little pink ball, about the size of a pea. Then he took a position in front of them.