The little girl looked at the broom in astonishment. The broom handle shook from side to side, like a person shaking his head to say no. He beckoned her into the fairy's parlour, which was just as pretty as the garden had been, but Mary was a little surprised to find the broom sweeping all by itself, and a duster flying about in the air wiping dust off the tops of the picture frames. Before she could speak, however, a tray slid into the room with a glass of milk and some biscuits on it, and a bowl of warm cereal and milk. No, I suppose not.
Fairies manage better than mortals.
They had finished their meal, and as she spoke the dishes dropped nimbly on to the tray, which sailed out to the kitchen, where Mary heard the hot water running and the dish mop mixing soapflakes in the sink. Mary looked at him. You see, I watch you, and I want a pug of my very own more than anything else in the whole world. Where the pug tree grows. As she started to look out, a telescope obligingly winged through the air and fitted itself gently to her eye.