Chapter XX

Wasn’t it splendid! Her very first wish came true. Well, thank goodness, it wouldn’t be long until she was a young lady--still there was no hurry. She wasn’t sure just what kind of a young lady she wanted to be. Besides she must make a list of things she meant to wish for, so as not to forget any of them. There was no safer place for her anywhere in Illusia, for if anybody tried to capture her, she need only put out her hand, touch the Wishing Post and wish them away. All her fear left her and she cuddled down in a heap and began writing her list with a stubby pencil on a little scrap of paper she found in her pocket. Suddenly her attention was attracted by a pitiful sight at the other end of the square.

A young boy was leading a poor old man who hobbled painfully along, leaning on a cane. Both were dressed in rags and tatters, and the old man, whose beard and hair were white, wore a green bandage over his eyes which hid half his face, so Maida guessed he was blind. She felt very sorry, and watched them to see what they meant to do, but felt afraid to go to them, on account of the boy;--her last experience with boys had been so unpleasant. At some little distance the old man staggered and then sat down on a bench at the border of the roadway.

“Oh I am so tired, so tired,” he moaned. “Where are we, my lad?”

“I don’t know,” she heard the boy answer, “this is the first time I was ever in Illusia.” And there was something about the boy’s voice that sounded very familiar to Maida. It reminded her of--_who did_ it remind her of? The old man bent his head sadly. “If I only had my eyes,” he said. The boy patted him on the shoulder and answered cheerfully--“Oh you’ll have them soon, and then all will be well.”

Maida tried to _remember_ where she had heard his voice. Then a dreadful thing occurred. Two big Illusian policemen--and they are much bigger and fiercer than the kind we have down here--ran into the square, seized the boy, and despite his cries and entreaties dragged him away, leaving the poor old blind man helpless and alone. As soon as they were out of sight Maida ran to the old man who was calling out piteously, and soothed him.

“What can I do to help you?” she asked him.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” he answered sorrowfully. “You see I am blind, little girl, I am blind. Because my mirror showed the Queen Aurora how ugly she was, I was forced to look upon the purple light that shone from her golden crown. So now I cannot see. I shall never see again. And they have taken away my boy. I am all alone, all alone!”

“No, not alone,” replied Maida, “I will guide you. It seems to me I have heard your voice, as well as your boy’s. Lift the bandage and let me see your face.”

The old man pushed back the bandage and you can imagine Maida’s surprise when she saw it was Santa Claus! She threw her arms about him and told him who she was. You may just believe he was glad to find her.

“And now,” she said joyously, “I’ve a great surprise for you. You shall have your eyes back. No, don’t ask me to tell you how, but you shall see again--and very soon.” So she guided his faltering steps across the square to the Wishing Post. She touched it and wished Santa Claus to have his eyes again. Then she turned and asked him, “Can you see?”

“Not yet,” he answered, so she tried it again. The second wish failed just as the first. Maida was dismayed.

“Something is the matter,” she cried. “I’ve wished and wished but it doesn’t come true. What shall we do?”

Santa Claus tottered toward her. “Aren’t you ashamed to play tricks on a poor old blind man--one who loved you so?” he asked. Of course that made poor Maida feel worse than ever.

“I wasn’t playing tricks,” she sobbed, “indeed--indeed I wasn’t. But it doesn’t seem to work, though I tried my best. Can’t--can’t you ‘think’ yourself a new pair of eyes?”

“I can only think toys,” replied Santa Claus in a hopeless tone, turning away. He stumbled a wee bit and reached out his hand to save himself from falling. As he did so he touched the Wishing Post. “I wish they couldn’t arrest Billy,” he said. Now, he didn’t realize he was touching the Wishing Post, but, of course, the Post didn’t know that, and it went to work to give him his wish. The gates of the prison flew open, there was a noise like breaking chains and rending bars, then Billy came out of the jail as if he were propelled by some invisible force. A half dozen policemen followed him, but every time they touched him they turned somersaults or flew up in the air and fell about, till finally they grew frightened, ran inside the jail, and locked the doors, leaving Billy standing staring about amazed. But he soon saw Santa Claus and Maida and started over to them.

“Oh Billy--Billy boy,” cried Maida, as he drew near, “come quick, quick.” So Billy ran. Maida rattled on almost breathless, with mingled hope and fear--“I tried to wish his eyes back and I can’t. _You_ try.” So Billy tried, and in a moment Santa Claus had his eyes back and could see as well as ever. How he did hug Maida and then Billy, and what a happy trio they were.

“And now,” said Maida, “that the Wishing Post is at work again, I’m going to be a young lady.” So she made her wish. “Has it happened?” she inquired.

“No,” said Billy.

“That’s funny,” she observed, “my first wish came true in a jiffy.”

“Have you had one?” asked Billy. She told him “yes.”

“Too bad,” he replied, “you can’t have another for a long time. The law is, only one within a year.”