. But
afterwards this preyed on Anthea's mind, and at last she secretly sent
twelve postage stamps by post to "Mr. Beale, Baker, Rochester." Inside
she wrote, "To pay for the buns." I hope the guinea did disappear, for
that baker was really not at all a nice man, and, besides, penny buns
are seven for sixpence in all really respectable shops.

CHAPTER III

BEING WANTED

The morning after the children had been the possessors of boundless
wealth, and had been unable to buy anything really useful or enjoyable
with it, except two pairs of cotton gloves, twelve penny buns, an
imitation crocodile-skin purse, and a ride in a pony-cart, they awoke
without any of the enthusiastic happiness which they had felt on the
previous day when they remembered how they had had the luck to find a
Psammead, or Sand-fairy, and to receive its promise to grant them a new
wish every day. For now they had had two wishes, Beauty and Wealth, and
neither had exactly made them happy. But the happening of strange
things, even if they are not completely pleasant things, is more amusing
than those times when nothing happens but meals, and they are not always
completely pleasant, especially on the days when it is cold mutton or
hash.

There was no chance of talking things over before breakfast, because
everyone overslept itself, as it happened, and it needed a vigorous and
determined struggle to get dressed so as to be only ten minutes late for
breakfast. During this meal some efforts were made to deal with the
question of the Psammead in an impartial spirit, but it is very
difficult to discuss anything thoroughly and at the same time to attend
faithfully to your baby brother's breakfast needs. The Baby was
particularly lively that morning. He not only wriggled his body through
the bar of his high chair, and hung by his head, choking and purple, but
he seized a tablespoon with desperate suddenness, hit Cyril heavily on
the head with it, and then cried because it was taken away from him. He
put his fat fist in his bread-and-milk, and demanded "nam," which was
only allowed for tea. He sang, he put his feet on the table--he
clamoured to "go walky." The conversation was something like this--

"Look here--about that Sand-fairy---- Look out!--he'll have the milk
over."

Milk removed to a safe distance.

"Yes--about that Fairy---- No, Lamb dear, give Panther the narky poon."

Then Cyril tried. "Nothing we've had yet has turned out---- He nearl