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bench.
    ‘Let’s make a wax thing of him ’n stick pins into it,’ suggested Henry.
    ‘No, let’s turn him into something,’ said Douglas.
    Joan clapped her hands.
    ‘Oh yes ,’ she said, ‘ let’s! That would be fun! His spells and things must be all over the place.’
    Ginger took up a pestle and mortar.
    ‘This is what he was stirring today,’ he said, ‘wonder what this changes folks into.’
    ‘Prob’ly depends what sort of a spell you say when you stir it,’ said Joan.
    ‘Well, let’s try it,’ said William.
    ‘What’ll we turn him into?’ said Ginger.
    ‘A donkey,’ suggested William.
    ‘Well, who’ll do it?’
    ‘Let me try,’ said Joan who had a certain prestige as originator of the now generally accepted magician theory.
    Ginger handed her the crucible. ‘I think,’ said Joan importantly, ‘that I ought to have a circle of chalk drawn round me.’
    They couldn’t find any chalk so they made a little circle of test tubes around her and watched her with interest. Joan shut her eyes, stirred up the mixture in the crucible and
chanted:
    ‘Turn into a donkey,
    Turn into a donkey,
    Turn into a donkey,
    Mr Magician.’
    Then she opened her eyes.
    ‘It may be all wrong,’ she admitted, ‘I’m only guessing how to do it. But if it’s a very good spell it may be all right.’
    ‘Well, let’s go and have a look at him,’ said William, ‘and if he’s still there we’ll come back and try again.’
    So they went.
    And now comes one of those coincidences without which both life and the art of the novelist would be so barren. Five minutes after the Outlaws had left Mr Galileo Simpkins
peacefully reading his novel on a bank in the shade in the field, a boy crossed the field carrying a telegram. He came from the post office and the telegram was for Mr Galileo Simpkins, so, on
seeing Mr Galileo Simpkins in the field, the boy took it up to him. Mr Simpkins opened it. It summoned him to the sick bed of a great-aunt from whom he had expectations. There was a train to town
in ten minutes. Mr Simpkins had his hat and coat and plenty of money on him. He decided not to risk missing the train by going back to the house. He set off at once for the station, meaning to
telegraph to his housekeeper from town (which he quite forgot to do). He left his book on the bank where he had laid it down on taking the telegram from the boy’s hand.
    Five minutes after he had gone Farmer Jenks, to whom the field belonged, brought to it a young donkey which he had just purchased, and departed. The young donkey had been christened
‘Maria’ by Mrs Jenks. Maria kicked her heels happily in the field for a few minutes, then realised that it was rather a hot afternoon. There was only one bit of shade in the field and
that was the bank where but lately Mr Galileo Simpkins had reposed and where even now his book lay. Maria went over to this and lay down in it just by the book. In fact her attitude suggested that
she was engaged in reading the book.
    And so when five minutes later the Outlaws cautiously and fearfully peeped over the hedge, they saw what was apparently Mr Galileo Simpkins metamorphosed by their spell into a donkey lying where
they had last seen him still reading his book. No words in the English language could quite describe the Outlaws’ feelings. Not one of them had really expected Joan’s spell to take
effect. And here was the incredible spectacle before them – Mr Galileo Simpkins turned into a donkey before their very eyes by one of his own spells. They all went rather pale. William
blinked. Ginger’s jaw dropped open. Henry’s eyes seemed on the point of falling out of his head. Douglas swallowed and held on to the gate for support and Joan gave a little scream. At
the sound of the scream Maria turned her head and gave them a reproachful glance.
    ‘ Well! ’ said Joan.
    ‘ Crumbs! ’ said William.
    ‘ Gosh! ’ said Douglas.
    ‘ Crikey! ’ said Henry.
    And ‘ Now we’ve done