almost in despair, Lucy suddenly remembered a word of power.

'I command you to open the well and let down the bucket,' she said. 'I
command you by the great name of Halma.'

'It is death to speak that name,' said the keeper of the key, looking
over his shoulder anxiously.

'It is life to speak that name,' said Lucy. 'Halma! Halma! Halma! If you
don't open that well I'll carve the name on a pine-apple and send it in
on the golden tray with the Great Sloth's dinner.'

'It would have the lives of hundreds for that,' said the keeper in
horror.

'Open the well then,' said Lucy.

. . . . . . .

They all held a council as soon as Philip and Max had been safely drawn
up in the bucket, and Lucy told them all she knew.

'I think whatever we do we ought to be quick,' said Lucy; 'that Great
Sloth is dangerous. I'm sure it is. It's sent already to say I am to be
brought to its presence to sing songs to it while it goes to sleep. It
doesn't mind me because it knows I'm not the Deliverer. And if you'll
let me, I believe I can work everything all right. But if it knows
you're here, it'll be much harder.'

The degraded Halma men were watching them from a distance, in whispering
groups.

'I shall go and sing to the Great Sloth,' she said, 'and you must go
about and say the name of power to every one you meet, and tell them
you're the Deliverer. Then if my idea doesn't come off, we must
overpower the Great Sloth by numbers and . . . . You just go about saying
"Halma!"--see?'

'While you do the dangerous part? Likely!' said Philip.

'It's not dangerous. It never hurts the people who sing--never,' said
Lucy. 'Now I'm going.'

And she went before Philip could stop her.

'Let her go,' said the parrot; 'she is a wise child.'

The temple of the Great Sloth was built of solid gold. It had beautiful
pillars and doorways and windows and courts, one inside the other, each
paved with gold flagstones. And in the very middle of everything was a
large room which was entirely feather-bed. There the Great Sloth passed
its useless life in eating, sleeping and listening to music.

Outside the moorish arch that led to this inner room Lucy stopped and
began to sing. She had a clear little voice and she sang 'Jockey to the
Fair,' and 'Early one morning,' and then she stopped.

And a great sleepy slobbery voice came out from the room and said:

'Your songs are in very bad taste. Do you know no sl