Catweazle and the Magic Zodiac

the sign. He handed it down to
Pickle who put it on his lorry, and the two of them went back into the pub.
Catweazle peered round the lorry and began to fizz wildly when he saw that the
sign had disappeared.
    ‘Where’s
it gone?’ gasped Cedric. Catweazle drew Adamcos.
    ‘ ’Tis
near,’ he said, and climbed on to the lorry before Cedric could stop him.
    ‘Get
down!’ warned Cedric, as the pub door opened again. Fred and Pickle came out
and carefully hung a brand new inn sign from the post. Then Pickle climbed back
into his lorry and drove away down the lane.
    It was
a short but very uncomfortable ride for Catweazle. He was bounced up and down
on the lorry with all sorts of things sticking into him; a broken fireguard, an
old brass fender, and one of the pedals on the tricycle. As the lorry went
round a bend everything slid about and crashed down on top of him. Then with a
final bump Pickle drove into his warehouse.
    He’d
had a very successful day, he thought, as he undid the tailboard and began to
unload the tricycle. Then he stopped. Catweazle stared out at him from
underneath a coal scuttle and a broken oil stove.
    ‘
’Ere!’ said Pickle with alarm, ‘get off my lorry!’
    Catweazle
clutched the inn sign and shook his head.
    ‘Look,
mate,’ said Pickle nervously, ‘don’t be awkward.’
    ‘ ’Tis
the Sign!’ said Catweazle.
    ‘I know
it’s a sign,’ said Pickle. ‘Now come on, get down!’
    ‘Thou
knowest ’tis the Sign?’
    ‘Are
you getting off?’
    ‘Hast
thou more? I seek them also,’ said Catweazle. He put the sign down for a moment
and climbed off the lorry.
    ‘Hop
it!’ said Pickle.
    Catweazle,
anxious to please, gave a little hop.
    ‘Get
going!’ ordered Pickle.
    Catweazle
picked up the inn sign again and made for the gates.
    ‘Come
back!’ yelled Pickle. He grabbed at the sign and they both tugged furiously.
They danced around the warehouse, each trying to get the sign. Then Pickle’s
nose began to itch with an oncoming sneeze. His hands flew to his face and he
let go of the sign, sending Catweazle staggering backwards into a pile of
plates.
    With a
cry of rage Pickle grabbed a broom and began to attack. Catweazle fended him
ofE with the sign, until he got behind a large table piled high with dirty
china ornaments. Pickle stopped his attack at once. It was stalemate. He gave
another tremendous sneeze.
    ‘Hast
thou the nose itch of summer?’ asked Catweazle. ‘Give me the Sign and I will
cure thee.’
    He drew
Adamcos, whereupon Pickle raised his broom again but Catweazle waved the
mysterious knife in front of his face and gradually put him into a trance.
    ‘ “Nose cease thy sneeze
    Nose take thy ease
    No itch hast now
    New nose art thou.” ’
     
    Pickle
stood absolutely still with a blank look on his face. Then Catweazle snapped
his fingers and the little man blinked and shook his head. ‘Put that knife
away!’ he said.
    Catweazle
sheathed Adamcos. The spell was over anyway. ‘Where dost thou keep them?’ he
said.
    ‘Keep
what?’
    ‘The
magic Signs.’
    Pickle
looked at Catweazle. He obviously needed humouring. ‘Oh yes!’ said Pickle. ‘Of
course! The magic signs!’ He pointed to a large cupboard. ‘I don’t tell
anybody,’ he said confidentially, ‘but I keep ’em in there.’
    ‘Hast
thou all the Signs?’ ‘Yes,’ said Pickle, ‘all of them.’
    ‘Then
thou canst fly,’ said Catweazle with envy.
    ‘Er ..
like a bird,’ said Pickle.
    ‘Fly
for me,’ asked Catweazle.
    ‘Well,
I will in a minute,’ said Pickle hurriedly, ‘but don’t you want to see the...
er... magic signs?’
    Catweazle
nodded and Pickle beckoned him nearer the cupboard, then, flinging it open, he
gave the unsuspecting Catweazle a push and shut him inside, just as Cedric ran
into the warehouse.
    ‘Thou
flea-ridden fox-faced ferret!’ cursed Catweazle and banged on the door of his
prison.
    ‘He’s
mad,’ said Pickle, running out of the warehouse. ‘Keep an eye on him, will you?
I’m going to get a policeman.’
    ‘Thou
snake-headed, rat-faced, pig-eared cauliflower!’ continued Catweazle.
    Cedric
unbolted the cupboard. ‘Owlface!’ said Catweazle.
    ‘I
warned you something like this would happen,’ said Cedric. ‘Now — buzz off!’
    ‘I am
no bee, thou wart!’
    Cedric
grabbed the big yellow tricycle and managed to sit Catweazle on it. Then he put
the old man’s feet on the pedals and gave him a terrific push. Catweazle shot
out of the