ome, get on with them beds. Here's ten o'clock nearly, and no
rabbits caught!"

People say that in Kent when they mean "and no work done."

So all the others were kept in, but Robert, as I have said, was allowed
to go out for half an hour to get something they all wanted. And that,
of course, was the day's wish.

He had no difficulty in finding the Sand-fairy, for the day was already
so hot that it had actually, for the first time, come out of its own
accord, and was sitting in a sort of pool of soft sand, stretching
itself, and trimming its whiskers, and turning its snail's eyes round
and round.

"Ha!" it said when its left eye saw Robert; "I've been looking for you.
Where are the rest of you? Not smashed themselves up with those wings,
I hope?"

"No," said Robert; "but the wings got us into a row, just like all the
wishes always do. So the others are kept indoors, and I was only let out
for half an hour--to get the wish. So please let me wish as quickly as I
can."

"Wish away," said the Psammead, twisting itself round in the sand. But
Robert couldn't wish away. He forgot all the things he had been thinking
about, and nothing would come into his head but little things for
himself, like candy, a foreign stamp album, or a knife with three blades
and a corkscrew. He sat down to think better of things the others would
not have cared for--such as a football, or a pair of leg-guards, or to
be able to lick Simpkins Minor thoroughly when he went back to school.

"Well," said the Psammead at last, "you'd better hurry up with that wish
of yours. Time flies."

"I know it does," said Robert. "_I_ can't think what to wish for. I wish
you could give one of the others their wish without their having to
come here to ask for it. Oh, _don't_!"

But it was too late. The Psammead had blown itself out to about three
times its proper size, and now it collapsed like a pricked bubble, and
with a deep sigh leaned back against the edge of the sand-pool, quite
faint with the effort.

"There!" it said in a weak voice; "it was tremendously hard--but I did
it. Run along home, or they're sure to wish for something silly before
you get there."

They were--quite sure; Robert felt this, and as he ran home his mind was
deeply occupied with the sort of wishes he might find they had wished in
his absence. They might wish for rabbits, or white mice, or chocolate,
or a fine day to-morrow, or even--and that was most likely--someone
might have