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 can't 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 know--much
longer than you would. Just look at the Greek statues. It's just as
well as it is. Good-bye. I _am_ so sleepy."

It jumped off her lap--dug frantically, and vanished.

Anthea was late for breakfast. It was Robert who quietly poured a
spoonful of molasses down the Lamb's 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 purposes--it
delighted the Lamb, who loved above all things to be completely sticky,
and it engaged Martha's attention so that the others could slip away to
the sand-pit without the Lamb.

They did it, and in the lane Anthea, breathless from the hurry of that
slipping, panted out--

"I want to propose we take turns to wish. Only, nobody's to have a wish
if the others don't think it's a nice wish. Do you agree?"

"Who's to have first wish?" asked Robert cautiously.

"Me, if you don't mind," said Anthea apologetically. "And I've thought
about it--and it's _wings_."

There was a silence. The others rather wanted to find fault, but it was
hard, because the word "wings" raised a flutter of joyous excitement in
every breast.

"Not so dusty," said Cyril generously; and Robert added, "Really,
Panther, you're not quite such a fool as you look."

Jane said, "I think it would be perfectly lovely. It's like a bright
dream of delirium."

They found the Sand-fairy easily. Anthea said--

"I wish we all had beautiful wings to fly with."

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 snail eyes from one
side to the other.

[Illustration: The Sand-fairy blew himself out]

"Not so bad," it said dreamily. "But really, Robert, you're not quite
such an angel as you look." Robert almost blushed.

The wings were very big, and more beautiful than you can possibly
imagine--for they were soft and smooth, and every feather lay neatly in
its place. And the feathers were of the most lovely mixed changing
color