Five Children and It E. Nesbit (uplifting books for women TXT) đ
- Author: E. Nesbit
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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 hurriedlyâ âit was the only wet thing within reach, and it was necessary to wash the sand out of the Lambâs 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 forever.
It was then that Robert, usually a very patient brother, so far forgot himself as to sayâ â
âAnybody would want him, indeed! Only they donât; Martha doesnât, not really, or sheâd jolly well keep him with her. Heâs a little nuisance, thatâs what he is. Itâs too bad. I only wish everybody did want him with all their hearts; we might get some peace in our lives.â
The Lamb stopped howling now, because Jane had suddenly remembered that there is only one safe way of taking things out of little childrenâs 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 toâ âand everyone else holds its tongue and waits for the one who oughtnât to have said it is sorry.
The silence was broken by a sighâ âa breath suddenly let out. The childrenâs 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.
âGood morning,â it said; âI did that quite easily! Everyone wants him now.â
âIt doesnât matter,â said Robert sulkily, because he knew he had been behaving rather like a pig. âNo matter who wants himâ âthereâs no one here toâ âanyhow.â
âIngratitude,â said the Psammead, âis a dreadful vice.â
âWeâre not ungrateful,â Jane made haste to say, âbut we didnât really want that wish. Robert only just said it. Canât you take it back and give us a new one?â
âNoâ âI canât,â the Sand-fairy said shortly; âchopping and changingâ âitâs not business. You ought to be careful what you do wish. There was a little boy once, heâd 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 teatime, and wouldnât let him go out in the nice flint boat along with the other childrenâ âit was the annual school-treat next dayâ âand 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.â
âHow awful!â said the children all together.
âOnly till sunset, of course,â the Psammead said; âstill it was quite enough for his father and mother. And he caught it when he woke upâ âI can tell you. He didnât turn to stoneâ âI forget whyâ âbut there must have been some reason. They didnât know being dead is only being asleep, and youâre 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 wasnât allowed to taste Megatherium for a month after that. Nothing but oysters and periwinkles, and common things like that.â
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.
âPoof, poof, poofy,â he said, and made a grab.
âItâs not a pussy,â Anthea was beginning, when the Sand-fairy leaped back.
âOh, my left whisker!â it said; âdonât let him touch me. Heâs wet.â
Its fur stood on end with horrorâ âand indeed a good deal of the ginger-beer had been spilt on the blue smock of the Lamb.
The Psammead dug with its hands and feet, and vanished in an instant and a whirl of sand.
The children marked the spot with a ring of stones.
âWe may as well get along home,â said Robert. âIâll say Iâm sorry; but anyway if itâs no good itâs no harm, and we know where the sandy thing is for tomorrow.â
The others were noble. No one reproached Robert at all. Cyril picked up the Lamb, who was now quite himself again, and off they went by the safe cart-road.
The cart-road from the gravel-pits joins the road almost directly.
At the gate into the road the party stopped to shift the Lamb from Cyrilâs back to Robertâs. And as they paused a very smart open carriage came in sight, with a coachman and a groom on the box, and inside the carriage a ladyâ âvery grand indeed, with a dress all white lace and red ribbons and a parasol all red and whiteâ âand a white fluffy dog on her lap with a red ribbon round its neck. She looked at the children, and particularly at the Baby, and she smiled at him. The children were used to this, for the Lamb was, as all the servants said, a âvery taking child.â So they waved their hands politely to the lady and expected her to drive on. But she did not. Instead she made the coachman stop. And she beckoned to Cyril, and when he went up to the carriage she saidâ â
âWhat a dear darling duck of a baby! Oh, I should so like to adopt it! Do you think its mother would mind?â
âSheâd mind very much indeed,â said Anthea shortly.
âOh, but I should bring it up in luxury, you know. I am Lady Chittenden. You must have seen my
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