Five Children and It E. Nesbit (uplifting books for women TXT) đ
- Author: E. Nesbit
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The children fell into each otherâs arms, sobbing and laughing.
âTheir scalps are ours,â chanted the chief; âill-rooted were their ill-fated hairs! They came off in the hands of the victorsâ âwithout struggle, without resistance, they yielded their scalps to the conquering Rock-dwellers! Oh, how little a thing is a scalp so lightly won!â
âTheyâll take our real ones in a minute; you see if they donât,â said Robert, trying to rub some of the red ochre off his face and hands on to his hair.
âCheated of our just and fiery revenge are we,â the chant went onâ ââbut there are other torments than the scalping-knife and the flames. Yet is the slow fire the correct thing. O strange unnatural country, wherein a man may find no wood to burn his enemy!â âAh for the boundless forests of my native land, where the great trees for thousands of miles grow but to furnish firewood wherewithal to burn our foes. Ah, would we were but in our native forest once more!â
Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, the golden gravel shone all round the four children instead of the dusky figures. For every single Indian had vanished on the instant at their leaderâs word. The Psammead must have been there all the time. And it had given the Indian chief his wish.
Martha brought home a jug with a pattern of storks and long grasses on it. Also she brought back all Antheaâs money.
âMy cousin, she give me the jug for luck; she said it was an odd one what the basin of had got smashed.â
âOh, Martha, you are a dear!â sighed Anthea, throwing her arms round her.
âYes,â giggled Martha, âyouâd better make the most of me while youâve got me. I shall give your ma notice directly minute she comes back.â
âOh, Martha, we havenât been so very horrid to you, have we?â asked Anthea, aghast.
âOh, it ainât that, miss.â Martha giggled more than ever. âIâm a-goinâ to be married. Itâs Beale the gamekeeper. Heâs been a-proposinâ to me off and on ever since you come home from the clergymanâs where you got locked up on the church-tower. And today I said the word anâ made him a happy man.â
Anthea put the seven-and-fourpence back in the missionary-box, and pasted paper over the place where the poker had broken it. She was very glad to be able to do this, and she does not know to this day whether breaking open a missionary-box is or is not a hanging matter.
XI The Last WishOf course you, who see above that this is the eleventh (and last) chapter, know very well that the day of which this chapter tells must be the last on which Cyril, Anthea, Robert, and Jane will have a chance of getting anything out of the Psammead, or Sand-fairy.
But the children themselves did not know this. They were full of rosy visions, and, whereas on other days they had often found it extremely difficult to think of anything really nice to wish for, their brains were now full of the most beautiful and sensible ideas. âThis,â as Jane remarked afterwards, âis always the way.â Everyone was up extra early that morning, and these plans were hopefully discussed in the garden before breakfast. The old idea of one hundred pounds in modern florins was still first favourite, but there were others that ran it closeâ âthe chief of these being the âpony eachâ idea. This had a great advantage. You could wish for a pony each during the morning, ride it all day, have it vanish at sunset, and wish it back again next day. Which would be an economy of litter and stabling. But at breakfast two things happened. First, there was a letter from mother. Granny was better, and mother and father hoped to be home that very afternoon. A cheer arose. And of course this news at once scattered all the before-breakfast wish-ideas. For everyone saw quite plainly that the wish of the day must be something to please mother and not to please themselves.
âI wonder what she would like,â pondered Cyril.
âSheâd like us all to be good,â said Jane primly.
âYesâ âbut thatâs so dull for us,â Cyril rejoined; âand, besides, I should hope we could be that without sand-fairies to help us. No; it must be something splendid, that we couldnât possibly get without wishing for.â
âLook out,â said Anthea in a warning voice; âdonât forget yesterday. Remember, we get our wishes now just wherever we happen to be when we say âI wish.â Donât letâs let ourselves in for anything sillyâ âtoday of all days.â
âAll right,â said Cyril. âYou neednât jaw.â
Just then Martha came in with a jug full of hot water for the teapotâ âand a face full of importance for the children.
âA blessing weâre all alive to eat our breakfasses!â she said darkly.
âWhy, whateverâs happened?â everybody asked.
âOh, nothing,â said Martha, âonly it seems nobodyâs safe from being murdered in their beds nowadays.â
âWhy,â said Jane as an agreeable thrill of horror ran down her back and legs and out at her toes, âhas anyone been murdered in their beds?â
âWellâ ânot exactly,â said Martha; âbut they might just as well. Thereâs been burglars over at Peasemarsh Placeâ âBealeâs just told meâ âand theyâve took every single one of Lady Chittendenâs diamonds and jewels and things, and sheâs a-goinâ out of one fainting fit into
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