“What do you mean?” Amy stared at the broom.

Jean held on to the back of a kitchen chair to steady herself. “The broom flew back into the house. I was holding it and I got dragged along.”

“Mother was right,” Amy said. “She told me it was a magic broom. But she was only joking. She didn’t know it could fly.” She thought for a moment. “I wonder if we could ride on it.”

“You go first,” Jean said.

“I don’t think it likes me. I can’t even get it to sweep.” Amy picked up the broom.

“Maybe it just doesn’t like sweeping,” Jean said.

Amy straddled the broomstick. “Come on, Blue Boy, let’s go for a ride.”

The broom seemed to quiver. Suddenly it began to jog around the kitchen. The blue bristles dragged on the floor. So did Amy’s feet.

“Ow!” Amy’s ankle banged against one of the kitchen chairs. She held tight to the broomstick and tried to yank it upright. “Up, Blue Boy, up!”

Without any warning the broom zoomed up into the air. Amy ducked her head just in time to keep it from crashing into the ceiling. “Steady, Blue Boy, steady!”

The broom bounced up and down. It seemed to be trying to throw Amy to the ground. She wrapped her legs around the stick and hung on with both hands. “Easy, Boy, easy!”

Jean started to laugh. “You look like a cowboy on a bucking bronco.”

“Maybe you think you can do better,” Amy snapped.

At this the broom glided to the floor. Amy got off. She handed the broom to Jean. “Your turn.”

Jean stroked the broom handle. “Nice Blue Boy,” she said. She patted the blue bristles. Then she sat down on the bristles and waited. The broom lay quiet on the floor. “Please, Magic Broom,” Jean said, “won’t you take me for a ride?”

Still the broom lay on the floor.

All at once Amy had an idea. “Maybe it’s a girl!”

Jean stood up. She turned the broom over and held it with the bristles up. “What a pretty broom it is! Of course it’s a girl.”

Very slowly the broom swayed back and forth.

“Look, Jean,” Amy said. “She’s trying to nod. And I think she likes to have her bristles up.”

Again the little broom nodded.

“No wonder she was angry with me,” Amy said. “I was holding her upside-down!”