“Look out!” cried Tate. She jerked Celia out of the way.

Abner stared in shock. The mower made a clever wiggle around him and rolled off the cement slab. With a whirring, chewing sound, it dug happily into the long grass.

“Catch it, Abs!” hissed Tate. “Before the parents see!”

The mower whipped from side to side as the wheels turned this way and that. Abner jumped forward, took three long strides, and grabbed the handle.

The machine settled down when it felt his touch. Abner swung around and the mower turned sweetly, heading back to the cement slab like a dog to its kennel. But it didn’t stop when it bumped into the shed. It kept right on bumping, its wheels spinning, as if it couldn’t believe there wasn’t any more grass.

Derek had not moved. He gazed at the machine with awe.

“A lot of help you were,” Abner said. He let the handle go and wiped his forehead.

Derek ignored this. “It wants to mow,” he said happily. “It wants all the grass it can cut.”

“It sure does.” Abner scowled at the mower, which was still banging against the shed. “I wish it would calm down, though.”

“I guess I can say the word now,” said Celia. “It’s magic!”

“It’s better than that,” said Derek, his eyes shining. “It’s my train ticket home!”

“We’ve got to get Dad to agree first.” Tate glanced across to the little studio where her parents were still talking.

“He’ll never let us use it if it keeps bashing the shed!” Abner was exasperated.

“Why don’t we just tell Daddy it’s magic and let him mow?” Celia asked. “I bet it will go faster than the gas mower.”

“I bet it will, too,” said Tate. “But don’t you see? Dad can’t believe in magic—he’s a grown-up. He’ll just think there’s something strange and wrong about it. For sure he’ll think it’s too dangerous to use something he doesn’t understand.”

“Magic is dangerous,” said Abner. He eyed the mower, which was ramming a good-sized dent in the side of the shed. “Maybe we shouldn’t use it, either.”

“Come on, Abner!” Derek begged for the second time that day. “It’s not dangerous. It’s just been cooped up too long. You’re happy to be outside again, aren’t you, Mowey?”

“Mowey?” mouthed Tate.

“Okay,” said Abner. “Maybe if we put the mower in the shed, it will quiet down. If we can get it to stay still, Dad will think it’s a regular mower and let us use it. Come on, Derek. Help me. Tate, will you hold the door? And, Celia, get out of the way.”

“I always have to get out of the way,” Celia mourned.

“That’s because you’re the littlest,” said Derek. He grabbed one side of the mower handle.

“Careful,” said Abner as the wheels spun. “Okay, let’s back up into the shed. Pull.”

“I’m not the littlest,” Celia protested. “Mr. Bunny is.”

“That’s right,” said Tate, opening the door wider as both boys squeezed through. “You have to stay out of the way so you can keep Mr. Bunny safe.”

“Oh.” Celia watched as the mower bumped up over the threshold and into the shed.

But the thumping noises didn’t stop. And now there was clanking, too, and the sound of falling tools. Celia poked her head in. The mower was banging against the wall.

“Is it mad at us?” Celia asked. She wound Mr. Bunny’s blue ribbon nervously around her fingers.

“It can’t get mad,” Abner said. “It’s a lawn mower. Lawn mowers don’t have feelings.”

“Ordinary lawn mowers don’t,” Tate said. “This one might.”

Derek caught a falling shovel and a fishing rod and propped them up again. “Maybe it’s a little grumpy,” he said. “It’s like it’s just waking up after a long sleep.”

Celia looked at the restless mower. She thought she saw a bit of green. “Or maybe it still has some grass on the blades.”

“Hey, I bet you’re right!” Abner leaned over the mower, speaking above the steady thud–thud–thud as it bashed the wall. “But how can we get it off?”

“Don’t put your hand in the blades, Abbie!” cried Tate.

“I won’t,” said Abner hotly. “I’m not stupid.”

Celia tugged at Abner’s shirt. “Mr. Bunny can help.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Celia.” Abner shrugged her off.

“No, really! He can!”

“Quiet, Celia!” Tate said. “We’re trying to think!”

Abner stuck his head out of the shed and pulled it back in with a dismayed look on his face. “The parents are coming!”

“Mr. Bunny can help,” Celia said stubbornly. She unwound the rabbit’s neck ribbon and held it out. “This can dust off the blades.”

“Right!” Derek grabbed the ribbon and doubled it over. Then he whapped it across the mower blades, lightly and fast.

“Careful!” Tate said, but Derek didn’t bother to answer. The blades were already slowing down. And then, after a last quick dusting, they stopped.

“Just in time!” whispered Abner as grown-up feet scraped on the cement slab. “Good work, Derek.”

“It was my idea,” Celia reminded them as she took back the ribbon.

“What was your idea?” said Mother at the door.

“And what was all that noise?” asked Father. “It sounded like the whole shed was coming down!”

Abner turned to Tate. So did Derek and Celia. When something had to be explained to grown-ups, Tate was the one who did it best.

“The noise was because of the idea,” she said earnestly. “We thought there might be a mower here you could use. And we found one and pulled it out, and then some of the other tools and things fell down. The mower made them fall,” she added, being perfectly truthful.

Abner looked at her in admiration.

Mr. Willow glanced at the rusty lawn mower and shook his head. “That was good of you kids, but there’s more lawn on this hill than I have time to mow with a push mower. Your mother and I are going into town. She’s going to drop off some paintings, and I’m going to look at new lawn mowers. I’ll see if the old one can be fixed, but I doubt it’s possible.”

“Dad?” Derek tugged at his father’s sleeve. “Could I mow?”

“With the new mower? No, they’re too dangerous,” began his father.

“I meant with this one.” Derek patted the old-fashioned mower’s handle as if it were a friendly dog. “It’s not dangerous at all. And I really want to.”

“But whatever for?” asked Mother. “This hill is far too big for a boy your age to mow. That’s your father’s job.”

“But if I did mow the whole hill, could I get money for it?” Derek persisted. “Enough to buy a train ticket?” He dug in his pocket and handed them Ben’s invitation.

Mother finished reading first. She raised her head and looked sadly at her son. “Oh, Derek. You must want to go very much.”

Derek nodded twenty times or so.

Father’s face changed. Derek could not be sure if his father’s expression was more stern or more loving, but it was more something. He waited, shifting from one foot to the other like a nervous batter at the plate.

Father cleared his throat. “I admire your ambition, son,” he said. “But the fact remains that the hill is very large, and you are very small.”

“He’s not that small,” Abner said.

“And we’ll help him,” said Tate.

The four children moved closer together. Four pairs of eyes pleaded with Mr. and Mrs. Willow.

“All right,” said Father. “You can try that old mower if you like, but you’ll get tired of pushing it before long. I’m going into town to look at new lawn mowers.”

“But what if we don’t get tired?” Abner spoke up. “What if you come back from town and the mowing is all done? Would that earn enough money for Derek’s ticket?”

“Er …,” said Father, looking helplessly at his wife.

“You always tell us not to give up before we start,” added Derek.

“Please, Daddy?” Celia held up her rabbit. “Don’t buy a new mower until you see if we can do it. Mr. Bunny says ‘please,’ too.”

“Oh, good heavens,” muttered their father.

“You’re outnumbered, Frank,” Mrs. Willow said. She seemed to be trying not to laugh.

Tate sensed the tide was turning in their favor. “How about this,” she said. “You go to town and look at mowers, but don’t buy any. And then when you come home, you can see how much we’ve done.”

“Not much point in going to town if we don’t buy anything,” grumbled their father.

“Now listen,” said his wife, “we wouldn’t buy a mower today, anyway. You know you always like to sleep on these things. You never make the final decision until the next day.”

“That’s true,” Father admitted.

“And I think we should let the children try,” Mother went on. “They want to do a nice thing for their brother, and … Well, if they did mow the whole lawn, you have to admit it would be worth a train ticket. Don’t you agree?”