Tut! Magic, indeed! As if there weren’t marvels enough without magic. Pictures traveling by telephone, and men bouncing up and down on the moon? Trees and floors and children growing? There are your real marvels.

One was an ancient tortoiseshell cat with arthritis, who creaked around the house–but when Aunt Sibby flickered her fingers and crooned, Miminy, miminy, tall-as-a-chi-mi-ny, danced on his hind legs like a kitten.