| The Psammead | | | [Frontispiece] |
| That First Glorious Rush Round the Garden | Facing | page | [2] |
| Cyril Had Nipped His Finger in the Door of a Hutch | " | " | [4] |
| Anthea Suddenly Screamed, "It's Alive!" | " | " | [12] |
| The Baby Did Not Know Them! | " | " | [28] |
| Martha Emptied a Toilet-jug of Cold Water Over Him | " | " | [32] |
| The Rain Fell in Slow Drops on to Anthea's Face | " | " | [36] |
| He Staggered, and Had to Sit Down Again in a Hurry | " | " | [50] |
| Mr. Beale Snatched the Coin, Bit It, and Put It in His Pocket | " | " | [58] |
| They Had Run Into Martha and the Baby | " | " | [64] |
| He Said, "Now Then!" to the Policeman and Mr. Peasemarsh | " | " | [66] |
| The Lucky Children Hurriedly Started for the Gravel Pit | " | " | [78] |
| "Poof, poof, poofy," He Said, and Made a Grab | " | " | [86] |
| At Double-quick Time Ran the Twinkling Legs of the Lamb's Brothers and Sisters | " | " | [88] |
| The Next Minute the Two Were Fighting | " | " | [90] |
| He Snatched the Baby from Anthea | " | " | [94] |
| He Consented to Let the Two Gypsy Women Feed Him | " | " | [98] |
| The Sand-fairy Blew Himself Out | " | " | [122] |
| They Flew Over Rochester | " | " | [126] |
| The Farmer Sat Down on the Grass, Suddenly and Heavily | " | " | [128] |
| Everyone Now Turned Out His Pockets | " | " | [132] |
| These Were the Necessaries of Life | " | " | [134] |
| The Children Were Fast Asleep | " | " | [138] |
| The Keeper Spoke Deep-Chested Words through the Keyhole | " | " | [150] |
| There the Castle Stood, Black and Stately | " | " | [164] |
| Robert Was Dragged Forthwith—by the Reluctant Ear | " | " | [166] |
| He Wiped Away a Manly Tear | " | " | [168] |
| "Oh, Do, Do, Do, Do!" Said Robert | " | " | [174] |
| The Man Fell with a Splash Into the Moat-water | " | " | [196] |
| Anthea Tilted the Pot over the Nearest Leadhole | " | " | [198] |
| He Pulled Robert's Hair | " | " | [210] |
| "The Sammyadd's Done Us Again," Said Cyril | " | " | [214] |
| He Lifted Up the Baker's Boy and Set Him on Top of the Haystack | " | " | [216] |
| It Was a Strange Sensation Being Wheeled in a Pony-carriage by a Giant | " | " | [220] |
| When the Girl Came Out She Was Pale and Trembling | " | " | [228] |
| "When Your Time's Up Come to Me" | " | " | [230] |
| He Opened the Case and Used the Whole Thing as a Garden Spade | " | " | [238] |
| She Did It Gently by Tickling His Nose with a Twig of Honeysuckle | " | " | [244] |
| There, Sure Enough, Stood a Bicycle | " | " | [248] |
| The Punctured State of It Was Soon Evident | " | " | [250] |
| The Grown-up Lamb Struggled | " | " | [258] |
| She Broke Open the Missionary Box with the Poker | " | " | [266] |
| "Ye Seek a Pow-wow?" He Said | " | " | [278] |
| Bright Knives Were Being Brandished All about Them | " | " | [284] |
| She Was Clasped in Eight Loving Arms | " | " | [294] |
| "We Found a Fairy," Said Jane, Obediently | " | " | [298] |
| It Burrowed, and Disappeared, Scratching Fiercely to the Last | " | " | [308] |