The Ogre Downstairs Read Online Free

all the bedcovers, flung them over her floating legs and flung himself after them. As the Ogre’s feet came up the last stairs, Johnny jumped on to Gwinny too and sat on her stomach.
    When the Ogre tore open the door and stood glowering, he saw Gwinny in bed, Caspar sitting on one end of it, Johnny in the middle, and all their faces turned to him in not-quite-innocent alarm. The only thing out of place was the wet mop Gwinny seemed to be nursing and a muddy splotch on the pillow.
    “What the dickens are you all doing here?” said the Ogre.
    “Telling her a bedtime story,” said Caspar breathlessly.
    “Why does it need two of you and all this din?” demanded the Ogre.
    Caspar and Johnny could not think. Gwinny said brightly, “They were doing it with funny voices to make me laugh.”
    “Were they!” said the Ogre, “Well they can just stop !”
    “Oh no,” said Johnny. “We were just near the end. Can’t we just finish?”
    “No you just can’t,” said the Ogre. “Your mother and I are entitled to some peace.”
    “Please!” they chorused desperately.
    “Oh, very well,” said the Ogre irritably. “Five minutes. And if I hear another sound there’ll be trouble. What are you doing with that filthy mop?”
    Again neither Caspar nor Johnny could think. “It’s a broomstick,” said Gwinny. “The story’s about a witch.”
    “Then you can either do without or change the story,” said the Ogre. “I’m taking that back where it came from.” He strode over to the bed and tried to wrench the mop out of Gwinny’s hands. Gwinny lost her presence of mind and hung on to the mop with all her strength. The force with which the Ogre tore it free raised her a full foot off the bed and Johnny with her. Luckily, Johnny’s weight and Caspar’s were enough to bring her down again fairly quickly, and the Ogre did not notice their sudden elevation because his foot chanced, at that moment, to kick against the backbrush. He picked it up and looked at it meditatively. “I can think of a very good use for this,” he said. “Don’t tempt me too far.” Then he went away, taking the mop and the brush with him.
    They listened tensely to his retreating footsteps. When he had reached the bathroom, Caspar said, “Now what shall we do? We can’t sit here all night.”
    “But I’ll be cold on the ceiling,” Gwinny whimpered.
    “You could take a blanket up with you,” Caspar suggested.
    “If you could hold her down,” said Johnny, “I think I can fix her.”
    “All right,” said Caspar. “But don’t be too long.”
    So Johnny departed downstairs with heavy-footed stealth and Caspar tried to keep Gwinny in place. He found it next to impossible on his own. In a matter of seconds, she was floating clear of the bed, bedclothes and all.
    “Oh, what shall we do?” she wailed.
    “Shut up for a start,” said Caspar.
    The bedclothes slid away and Caspar was hanging on to Gwinny’s nightdress. There was a slow tearing sound. Gwinny whimpered and began to rise again, gently but surely. Caspar was forced to let go of her nightdress and catch hold of her ankles. There he hung on desperately. He found, in the end, that if he leant back, with his head nearly touching the floor and all his weight swinging on Gwinny, he could keep her floating upright about three feet from the floor. They had reached this point when Johnny came swiftly upstairs and entered the room with a bucket of water, looking very businesslike.
    “Oh good,” he said, when he saw the position Gwinny was in, and he threw the water over the pair of them.
    He had not thought to bring warm water. Gwinny squealed. Caspar gasped and nearly let go. He was aboutto say some very unkind things to Johnny, when he realised that Gwinny was now much easier to hold down.
    “It’s working,” he said. “Go and get some more.”
    Johnny turned, beaming with relief, and went galloping away downstairs, bucket clattering. Somewhat to Caspar’s annoyance, he did not