and a hooting-tooting blaring merry-go-round,
and a shooting-gallery and Aunt Sallies. Resisting an impulse to win a
cocoanut,--or at least to attempt the enterprise,--Cyril went up to the
woman who was loading little guns before the array of glass bottles on
strings against a sheet of canvas.

"Here you are, little gentleman!" she said. "Penny a shot!"

"No, thank you," said Cyril, "we are here on business, not on pleasure.
Who's the master?"

"The what?"

"The master--the head--the boss of the show."

"Over there," she said, pointing to a stout man in a dirty linen jacket
who was sleeping in the sun; "but I don't advise you to wake him sudden.
His temper's contrairy, especially these hot days. Better have a shot
while you're waiting."

"It's rather important," said Cyril. "It'll be very profitable to him. I
think he'll be sorry if we take it away."

"Oh, if it's money in his pocket," said the woman. "No kid now? What is
it?"

"It's a _giant_."

"You _are_ kidding?"

"Come along and see," said Anthea.

The woman looked doubtfully at them, then she called to a ragged little
girl in striped stockings and a dingy white petticoat that came below
her brown frock, and leaving her in charge of the "shooting-gallery" she
turned to Anthea and said, "Well, hurry up! But if you _are_ kidding,
you'd best say so. I'm as mild as milk myself, but my Bill he's a fair
terror and"--

Anthea led the way to the barn. "It really _is_ a giant," she said.
"He's a giant little boy--in a suit like my brother's there. And we
didn't bring him up to the Fair because people do stare so, and they
seem to go into kind of standing-up fits when they see him. And we
thought perhaps you'd like to show him and get pennies; and if you like
to pay us something, you can--only, it'll have to be rather a lot,
because we promised him he should have a double share of whatever we
made."

The woman murmured something indistinct, of which the children could
only hear the words, "Swelp me!" "balmy," and "crumpet," which conveyed
no definite idea to their minds.

She had taken Anthea's hand, and was holding it very firmly; and Anthea
could not help wondering what would happen if Robert should have
wandered off or turned his proper size during the interval. But she knew
that the Psammead's gifts really did last till sunset, however
inconvenient their lasting might be; and she did not think, somehow,
that Robert would care to go out alone while he