all round the department, making notes. Judy decided to do some more crystallized acorns, which were always so popular with the squirrels, and to get some more coconuts for the tits, and paint the outsides of the shells pink and blue.
‘And we’re running short of ants’ eggs,’ she said. ‘I must go out and buy a fresh stock.’
Her grannie stamped her stick on the ground. ‘Ants’ eggs!’ she exclaimed. ‘I knew there was something I had forgotten to tell you! You remember the ants under the damson tree?’
‘Of course. I’ve bought eggs from them for years.’
‘A nicer lot of ants I never knew. Hard working, sober, and most patriotic – quite devoted to their Queen. It is too terrible.’
‘But what has happened?’
‘Wait till I tell you. Some of them came round this morning – oh, in a dreadful state. Battered and bruised and carrying on as though there’d been an earthquake. And as far as they were concerned there had been an earthquake; that wicked Sam went round with a spade last night and dug them all up and carried away all their eggs.’
Judy could hardly believe her ears. ‘You mean – he stole them?’
‘Certainly he stole them. Not only that, he chopped half the nests to pieces. And when the ants said they’d have the law on him he only laughed and said that if they breathed a word to anybody he’d come and pour boiling water on them.’
‘Oh dear!’ cried Judy, almost in tears. ‘This can’t go on. We must do something. After all, there is a law in the wood.’
‘Yes, but it’s a law for animals, not for humans.’
‘It isn’t only the animals who will be ruined, it’s us. Look at the ants’ eggs, for instance. They used to be one of the most profitable things we sold. The goldfish were the richest fish in the stream and they never minded what they paid. And now Sam will be able to sell them for practically nothing. Is there nobody who can help us?’
‘If the worst comes to the worst,’ said Mrs Judy, ‘there is always the Tree.’
‘But what can the Tree do for us? It can’t give us anything.’
‘Hush, Judy! It can give us shelter.’
‘But that isn’t something that we can eat.’
Mrs Judy paid no heed; for a moment she seemed to have forgotten her grand-daughter. She was gazing up into the branches of the Tree, lost in a dream. ‘And it can give us Beauty,’ she said.
Judy felt like retorting that you couldn’t eat Beauty either, but there was something in the tone of her grannie’s voice that made her pause – something strange and solemn.
She said nothing, but followed her grannie’s eyes up into the topmost branches of the Tree. And as she gazed, there came a fresh, sweet breeze, that sighed through the boughs and set all the leaves to dance, twisting and turning, green and silver, and where the sunlight caught them, pure gold. They all seemed to be laughing and happy, as well they might; for what could be lovelier than the life of a leaf, high against the sky, with the wind as your brother and the sun as your friend, and the whisper of your companions all about you?
‘Beauty,’ whispered Grannie once again.
And the wind seemed to catch the word, and breathe it to the Tree, and the Tree sang it back in a thousand gentle voices … Beauty, Beauty, Beauty.
And suddenly Judy sat up and opened her eyes very wide and cried, ‘Grannie, I’ve got it.’
*
Mrs Judy blinked.
‘Got what, my child?’
‘I’ve got an idea. We’ll open a Beauty Parlour!’
‘Whatever put such an idea into your head?’
‘The Tree.’
‘I can’t believe the Tree said anything so foolish. The animals are quite beautiful enough already.’
‘Then why do we sell lacquer for ladybirds?’ asked Judy. ‘And if it comes to that, why do we sell Blackbeetle Polish?’
Mrs Judy frowned, for she was a very old lady, and she did not like to be contradicted. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘that’s a matter of health.’
‘But Grannie, darling, that makes it better still. Beauty and Health. What could be better?’
‘We might open a Surgery,’ agreed Mrs Judy, grudgingly.
‘Why not both?’
‘It’ll mean a lot of work.’
‘But I could do all the Beauty Parlour. And I could help you in the Surgery, too.’
‘You couldn’t help with the Magic,’ said Mrs Judy. ‘That would all fall on me.’ She shook her head backwards and forwards. But Judy could see that she did not really mean it, for there was quite a bright sparkle in her eyes.
‘I shall have to read up a lot of old books,’ went on Mrs Judy. ‘And I shall have to polish my magic crystal and mend my magic wand.’
‘But Grannie, I didn’t even know you had a magic wand.’
‘Well, it’s rather old and cracked so I expect most of the magic has run out of it now,’ said Mrs Judy. ‘Still, there’s no harm in trying. Deary me! We shall be busy for the next few days!’
Judy clapped her hands. ‘I’m so excited. Let’s begin now, this very minute. What is the first thing you would like me to do?’
Mrs Judy thought hard for a moment. ‘Well, my dear, I think that the first thing you should do is to say “Thank you” to the Tree for giving you such a good idea.’
‘Thank you,’ said Judy, rather shortly.
‘You must say it much more nicely than that,’ corrected Mrs Judy. ‘Say … “Thank you, Tree, for all that you have done for us, for your shelter and for your shade and for your wisdom.”’
So Judy said these words. And once again a little breeze sighed through the topmost branches, so that you would have sworn that the Tree had heard, and had bowed its head.
‘And now,’ cried Mrs Judy … ‘and now … to work!’
MEANWHILE SAM WAS not being idle; his wicked little head was full of
