A Blink of the Screen

as a great shock to Rincemangle, of course. When he arrived with his new friend Featherhead, pushing the baked bean tin in front of them, he felt quite out of place. The gnomes lived in small cardboard houses under the floorboards, with holes drilled through the ceiling to let the light in. Featherhead rolled the tin into his house and shut the door.
    ‘Well, this is a cut above the old hollow tree,’ said Rincemangle, looking round.
    ‘Everyone’s in the restaurant, I expect,’ said Featherhead. ‘There’s about three hundred gnomes live here, you know. My word, I think it’s very odd, you living out in all weathers! Most gnomes have lived indoors for years!’
    He led Rincemangle along the floor, through a hole in a brick wall and along a very narrow ledge. It was the lift, he explained. Of course, the gnomes had managed to use the big lift, but they’d rigged up a smaller one at the side of the shaft. It was driven by clockwork.
    They arrived in the Gents’ Suiting Department after a long ride down the dark shaft. It was brightly lit, and several gnomes were working a giant sewing machine.
    ‘Good evening!’ said one bustling up, rubbing his hands. ‘Hullo Featherhead – what can I do for you?’
    ‘My friend here in the moleskin trousers –’ began Featherhead, ‘– can’t you make him something natty in tweed? We can’t have a gnome who looks like he’s just stepped out of a mushroom!’
    The gnomish tailors worked hard. They made Rincemangle a suit out of a square of cloth in a pattern book and there was enough over for a spare waistcoat.
    Featherhead led him back down under the floorboards and they went on to the toy department, where most of the gnomes spent the night (they slept when the store was open during the day). All the lights were on. Two gnomes were racing model cars around the display stands. Two teams of gnomes had unrolled one of those big football games and had started playing, while the crowd squeaked with excitement.
    ‘Don’t any human beings ever come down here at night?’ asked Rincemangle, who was a bit shocked. ‘I mean, you don’t keep lookouts or anything!’
    ‘Oh, no one comes here after the cleaners have gone home,’ said Featherhead. ‘We have the place to ourselves.’
    But they didn’t. You see, the store people had noticed how food disappeared and how things had been moved around in the night. They were sensible and didn’t believe in gnomes. So they had bought a cat.
    Rincemangle saw it first. He looked up from the football game and saw a big green eye watching them through the partly open door. He didn’t know it was a cat, but it looked like a fox, and he knew what foxes were like.
    ‘Run for your lives!’ he bellowed.
    Everyone saw the cat as it pushed open the door. With shrill cries of alarm several gnomes rolled back the carpet and opened the trapdoor to their underground homes, but they were too late. The cat trotted in and stared at them.
    ‘Stand still now,’ hissed Rincemangle. ‘He’ll get you if you move!’
    Fortunately, perhaps because of the way he said it, the gnomes stood still. Rincemangle thought quickly, and then ran to one of the toy cars the gnomes had been using. As the cat bounded after him he drove away.
    He wasn’t very good at steering, but managed to drive right out of the toy department before crashing the car into a display. He jumped out and climbed the stem of a potted plant just as the cat dashed up.
    Rincemangle the gnome climbed right up the potted plant just as the cat came scampering towards him. From the topmost leaf he was able to jump on to a shelf, and he ran and hid behind a stack of china plates – knocking quite a few down in the process, I’m sorry to say.
    After half an hour or so the cat got fed up and wandered off, and he was able to climb down.
    When he got back to the gnome home under the floorboards the place was in uproar. Some families were gathering their possessions together, and several noisy meetings were going on.
    He found Featherhead packing his belongings into an old tea caddy.
    ‘Oh hullo,’ he said. ‘I say, that was pretty clever of you leading the cat away like that!’
    ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘Well, we can’t stay here now they’ve got a cat, can we?’ said Featherhead.
    But it was even worse than that, because very soon the nightwatchman who usually stayed downstairs came up and saw all the broken things on the floor, and he called the police.
    All the next