Five Children and It E. Nesbit (uplifting books for women TXT) đ
- Author: E. Nesbit
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âOh, this isnât a magic wishâ âitâs justâ âI should be so glad if youâd not swell yourself out and nearly burst to give me anything just now. Wait till the others are here.â
âWell, well,â it said indulgently, but it shivered.
âWould you,â asked Anthea kindlyâ ââwould you like to come and sit on my lap? Youâd be warmer, and I could turn the skirt of my frock up round you. Iâd be very careful.â
Anthea had never expected that it would, but it did.
âThank you,â it said; âyou really are rather thoughtful.â It crept on to her lap and snuggled down, and she put her arms round it with a rather frightened gentleness. âNow then!â it said.
âWell then,â said Anthea, âeverything we have wished has turned out rather horrid. I wish you would advise us. You are so old, you must be very wise.â
âI was always generous from a child,â said the Sand-fairy. âIâve spent the whole of my waking hours in giving. But one thing I wonât giveâ âthatâs advice.â
âYou see,â Anthea went on, âitâs such a wonderful thingâ âsuch a splendid, glorious chance. Itâs so good and kind and dear of you to give us our wishes, and it seems such a pity it should all be wasted just because we are too silly to know what to wish for.â
Anthea had meant to say thatâ âand she had not wanted to say it before the others. Itâs one thing to say youâre silly, and quite another to say that other people are.
âChild,â said the Sand-fairy sleepily, âI can only advise you to think before you speakâ ââ
âBut I thought you never gave advice.â
âThat piece doesnât count,â it said. âYouâll never take it! Besides, itâs not original. Itâs in all the copybooks.â
âBut wonât you just say if you think wings would be a silly wish?â
âWings?â it said. âI should think you might do worse. Only, take care you arenât flying high at sunset. There was a little Ninevite boy I heard of once. He was one of King Sennacheribâs sons, and a traveller brought him a Psammead. He used to keep it in a box of sand on the palace terrace. It was a dreadful degradation for one of us, of course; still the boy was the Assyrian Kingâs son. And one day he wished for wings and got them. But he forgot that they would turn into stone at sunset, and when they did he fell slap on to one of the winged lions at the top of his fatherâs great staircase; and what with his stone wings and the lionsâ stone wingsâ âwell, itâs not a pretty story! But I believe the boy enjoyed himself very much till then.â
âTell me,â said Anthea, âwhy donât our wishes turn into stone now? Why do they just vanish?â
âAutres temps, autres mĆurs,â said the creature.
âIs that the Ninevite language?â asked Anthea, who had learned no foreign language at school except French.
âWhat I mean is,â the Psammead went on, âthat in the old days people wished for good solid everyday giftsâ âMammoths and Pterodactyls and thingsâ âand those could be turned into stone as easy as not. But people wish such high-flying fanciful things nowadays. How are you going to turn being beautiful as the day, or being wanted by everybody, into stone? You see it canât be done. And it would never do to have two rules, so they simply vanish. If being beautiful as the day could be turned into stone it would last an awfully long time, you knowâ âmuch longer than you would. Just look at the Greek statues. Itâs just as well as it is. Goodbye. I am so sleepy.â
It jumped off her lapâ âdug frantically, and vanished.
Anthea was late for breakfast. It was Robert who quietly poured a spoonful of treacle down the Lambâs frock, so that he had to be taken away and washed thoroughly directly after breakfast. And it was of course a very naughty thing to do; yet it served two purposesâ âit delighted the Lamb, who loved above all things to be completely sticky, and it engaged Marthaâs attention so that the others could slip away to the sandpit without the Lamb.
They did it, and in the lane Anthea, breathless from the skurry of that slipping, panted outâ â
âI want to propose we take turns to wish. Only, nobodyâs to have a wish if the others donât think itâs a nice wish. Do you agree?â
âWhoâs to have first wish?â asked Robert cautiously.
âMe, if you donât mind,â said Anthea apologetically. âAnd Iâve thought about itâ âand itâs wings.â
There was a silence. The others rather wanted to find fault, but it was hard, because the word âwingsâ raised a flutter of joyous excitement in every breast.
âNot so dusty,â said Cyril generously; and Robert added, âReally, Panther, youâre not quite such a fool as you look.â
Jane said, âI think it would be perfectly lovely. Itâs like a bright dream of delirium.â
They found the Sand-fairy easily. Anthea saidâ â
âI wish we all had beautiful wings to fly with.â
The Sand-fairy blew himself out, and next moment each child felt a funny feeling, half heaviness and half lightness, on its shoulders. The Psammead put its head on one side and turned its snailâs eyes from one to the other.
âNot so dusty,â it said dreamily. âBut really, Robert, youâre not quite such an angel as you look.â Robert almost blushed.
The wings were very big, and more beautiful than you can possibly imagineâ âfor they were soft and smooth, and every feather lay neatly in its place. And the feathers were of the most lovely mixed changing colours, like the rainbow, or iridescent glass, or the beautiful scum that sometimes floats on water that is not at all nice to drink.
âOhâ âbut can we fly?â Jane said, standing anxiously first on one foot and then on the other.
âLook out!â said Cyril; âyouâre treading on my wing.â
âDoes it hurt?â asked Anthea with interest; but no one answered, for Robert had spread his wings and jumped up, and now he was slowly rising
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