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plumped the Lamb into Anthea's arms, and went back to make new pinafores on the sewing-machine.
She was a rapid performer on this instrument.
The Lamb laughed with pleasure, and said, 'Walky wif Panty,' and rode on Robert's back with yells
of joy, and tried to feed Jane with stones, and altogether made himself so agreeable that nobody could
long be sorry that he was of the party.
The enthusiastic Jane even suggested that they should devote a week's wishes to assuring the Baby's
future, by asking such gifts for him as the good fairies give to Infant Princes in proper fairy-tales, but
Anthea soberly reminded her that as the Sand-fairy's wishes only lasted till sunset they could not ensure
any benefit to the Baby's later years; and Jane owned that it would be better to wish for fifty pounds in
two-shilling pieces, and buy the Lamb a three-pound-fifteen rocking-horse, like those in the Army and
Navy Stores list, with part of the money.
It was settled that, as soon as they had wished for the money and got it, they would get Mr Crispin to
drive them into Rochester again, taking Martha with them, if they could not get out of taking her. And
they would make a list of the things they really wanted before they started. Full of high hopes and
excellent resolutions, they went round the safe slow cart-road to the gravel-pits, and as they went in
between the mounds of gravel a sudden thought came to them, and would have turned their ruddy cheeks
pale if they had been children in a book. Being real live children, it only made them stop and look at each
other with rather blank and silly expressions. For now they remembered that yesterday, when they had
asked the Psammead for boundless wealth, and it was getting ready to fill the quarry with the minted gold
of bright guineas - millions of them - it had told the children to run along outside the quarry for fear they
should be buried alive in the heavy splendid treasure. And they had run. And so it happened that they had
not had time to mark the spot where the Psammead was, with a ring of stones, as before. And it was this
thought that put such silly expressions on their faces.
'Never mind,' said the hopeful Jane, 'we'll soon find him.'
But this, though easily said, was hard in the doing. They looked and they looked, and though they
found their seaside spades, nowhere could they find the Sand-fairy.
At last they had to sit down and rest - not at all because they were weary or disheartened, of course,
but because the Lamb insisted on being put down, and you cannot look very carefully after anything you
may have happened to lose in the sand if you have an active baby to look after at the same time. Get
someone to drop your best knife in the sand next time you go to the seaside, and then take your baby
brother with you when you go to look for it, and you will see that I am right.
The Lamb, as Martha had said, was feeling the benefit of the country air, and he was as frisky as a
sandhopper. The elder ones longed to go on talking about the new wishes they would have when (or if)
they found the Psammead again. But the Lamb wished to enjoy himself.
He watched his opportunity and threw a handful of sand into Anthea's face, and then suddenly
burrowed his own head in the sand and waved his fat legs in the air. Then of course the sand got into his
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eyes, as it had into Anthea's, and he howled.
The thoughtful Robert had brought one solid brown bottle of ginger-beer with him, relying on a thirst
that had never yet failed him. This had to be uncorked hurriedly - it was the only wet thing within reach,
and it was necessary to wash the sand out of the Lamb's eyes somehow. Of course the ginger hurt
horribly, and he howled more than ever. And, amid his anguish of kicking, the bottle was upset and the
beautiful ginger-beer frothed out into the sand and was lost for ever.
It was then that Robert, usually a very patient brother, so far forgot himself as to say:
'Anybody would want him, indeed! Only they don't; Martha doesn't, not really, or she'd jolly well
keep him with her. He's a little nuisance, that's what he is. It's too bad. I only wish everybody DID want
him with all their hearts; we might get some peace in our lives.'
The Lamb stopped howling now, because Jane had suddenly remembered that there is only one safe
way of taking things out of little children's eyes, and that is with your own soft wet tongue. It is quite easy
if you love the Baby as much as you ought to.
Then there was a little silence. Robert was not proud of himself for having been so cross, and the
others were not proud of him either. You often notice that sort of silence when someone has said
something it ought not to - and everyone else holds its tongue and waits for the one who oughtn't to have
said it is sorry.
The silence was broken by a sigh - a breath suddenly let out. The children's heads turned as if there
had been a string tied to each nose, and someone had pulled all the strings at once.
And everyone saw the Sand-fairy sitting quite close to them, with the expression which it used as a
smile on its hairy face.
'Good-morning,' it said; 'I did that quite easily! Everyone wants him now.'
'It doesn't matter,' said Robert sulkily, because he knew he had been behaving rather like a pig. 'No
matter who wants him - there's no one here to - anyhow.'
'Ingratitude,' said the Psammead, 'is a dreadful vice.'
'We're not ungrateful,'Jane made haste to say, 'but we didn't REALLY want that wish. Robert only
just said it. Can't you take it back and give us a new one?'
'No - I can't,' the Sand-fairy said shortly; 'chopping and changing - it's not business. You ought to be
careful what you do wish. There was a little boy once, he'd wished for a Plesiosaurus instead of an
Ichthyosaurus, because he was too lazy to remember the easy names of everyday things, and his father
had been very vexed with him, and had made him go to bed before tea-time, and wouldn't let him go out
in the nice flint boat along with the other children - it was the annual school-treat next day - and he came
and flung himself down near me on the morning of the treat, and he kicked his little prehistoric legs about
and said he wished he was dead. And of course then he was.'
'How awful!' said the children all together.
'Only till sunset, of course,' the Psammead said; 'still it was quite enough for his father and mother.
And he caught it when he woke up - I can tell you. He didn't turn to stone - I forget why - but there must
have been some reason. They didn't know being dead is only being asleep, and you're bound to wake up
somewhere or other, either where you go to sleep or in some better place. You may be sure he caught it,
giving them such a turn. Why, he wasn't allowed to taste Megatherium for a month after that. Nothing but
oysters and periwinkles, and common things like that.'
All the children were quite crushed by this terrible tale. They looked at the Psammead in horror.
Suddenly the Lamb perceived that something brown and furry was near him.
'Poof, poof, poofy,' he said, and made a grab.
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