something about “just like a girl,” and the rest stood silent. If they said “Yes,” then good-bye to the other wishes they had decided to ask for. If they said “No,” it would be very rude, and they had all been taught manners, and had learned a little too, which is not at all the same thing. A sigh of relief broke from all lips when the Sand-fairy said:

“If I do I shan’t have strength to give you a second wish; not even good tempers, or common sense, or manners, or little things like that.”

“We don’t want you to put yourself out at all about these things, we can manage them quite well ourselves,” said Cyril eagerly; while the others looked guiltily at each other, and wished the Fairy would not keep all on about good tempers, but give them one good rowing if it wanted to, and then have done with it.

“Well,” said the Psammead, putting out his long snail’s eyes so suddenly that one of them nearly went into the round boy’s eyes of Robert, “let’s have the little wish first.”

“We don’t want the servants to notice the gifts you give us.”

“Are kind enough to give us,” said Anthea in a whisper.

“Are kind enough to give us, I mean,” said Robert.

The Fairy swelled himself out a bit, let his breath go, and said—

“I’ve done that for you—it was quite easy. People don’t notice things much, anyway. What’s the next wish?”

“We want,” said Robert slowly, “to be rich beyond the dreams of something or other.”

“Avarice,” said Jane.

“So it is,” said the Fairy unexpectedly. “But it won’t do you much good, that’s one comfort,” it muttered to itself. “Come—I can’t go beyond dreams, you know! How much do you want, and will you have it in gold or notes?”

“Gold, please—and millions of it.”

“This gravel-pit full be enough?” said the Fairy in an off-hand manner.

“Oh yes!”

“Then get out before I begin, or you’ll be buried alive in it.”

It made its skinny arms so long, and waved them so frighteningly, that the children ran as hard as they could towards the road by which carts used to come to the gravel-pits. Only Anthea had presence of mind enough to shout a timid “Good-morning, I hope your whisker will be better tomorrow,” as she ran.

On the road they turned and looked back, and they had to shut their eyes, and open them very slowly, a little bit at a time, because the sight was too dazzling for their eyes to be able to bear it. It was something like trying to look at the sun at high noon on Midsummer Day o For the whole of the sand-pit was full, right up to the very top, with new shining gold pieces, and all the little sand-martins’ little front doors were covered out of sight. Where the road for the carts wound into the gravel-pit the gold lay in heaps like stones lie by the roadside, and a great bank of shining gold shelved down from where it lay flat and smooth between the tall sides of the gravel-pit. And all the gleaming heap was minted gold. And on the sides and edges of these countless coins the midday sun shone and sparkled, and glowed and gleamed till the quarry looked like the mouth of a smelting furnace, or one of the fairy halls that you see sometimes in the sky at sunset.

The children stood with their mouths open, and no one said a word.

At last Robert stopped and picked up one of the loose coins from the edge of the heap by the cart-road, and looked at it. He looked on both sides. Then he said in a low voice, quite different to his own, “It’s not sovereigns.”p

All the gleaming heap was minted gold

“It’s gold, anyway,” said Cyril. And now they all began to talk at once. They all picked up the golden treasure by handfuls, and let it run through their fingers like water, and the chink it made as it fell was wonderful music. At first they quite forgot to think of spending the money, it was so nice to play with. Jane sat down between two heaps of gold and Robert began to bury her, as you bury your father in sand when you are at the seaside and he has gone to sleep on the beach with the newspaper over his face. But Jane was not half buried before she cried out, “Oh, stop, it’s too heavy! It hurts!”

Robert