“That’s easier said than done.”
“Not a bit of it,” said the creature; “there’s one of the strongest charms in the world not a stone’s throw from where you bought me yesterday. The man that I bit so—the first one, I mean—went into a shop to ask how much something cost—I think he said it was a concertina—and while he was telling the man in the shop how much too much he wanted for it, I saw the charm in a sort of tray, with a lot of other things. If you can only buy that, you will be able to have your heart’s desire.”
The children looked at each other and then at the Psammead. Then Cyril coughed awkwardly and took sudden courage to say what everyone was thinking.
“I do hope you won’t be waxy,” he said; “but it’s like this: when you used to give us our wishes they almost always got us into some row or other, and we used to think you wouldn’t have been pleased if they hadn’t. Now, about this charm—we haven’t got over and above too much tin, and if we blue it all on this charm and it turns out to be not up to much—well—you see what I’m driving at, don’t you?”
“I see that you don’t see more than the length of your nose, and that’s not far,” said the Psammead crossly. “Look here, I had to give you the wishes, and of course they turned out badly, in a sort of way, because you hadn’t the sense to wish for what was good for you. But this charm’s quite different. I haven’t got to do this for you, it’s just my own generous kindness that makes me tell you about it. So it’s bound to be all right. See?”
“Don’t be cross,” said Anthea, “Please, please don’t. You see, it’s all we’ve got; we shan’t have any more pocket-money till Daddy comes home—unless he sends us some in a letter. But we do trust you. And I say all of you,” she went on, “don’t you think it’s worth spending all the money, if there’s even the chanciest chance of getting Father and Mother back safe now? Just think of it! Oh, do let’s!”
“I don’t care what you do,” said the Psammead; “I’ll go back to sand again till you’ve made up your minds.”
“No, don’t!” said everybody; and Jane added, “We are quite mind made-up—don’t you see we are? Let’s get our hats. Will you come with us?”
“Of course,” said the Psammead; “how else would you find the shop?”
So everybody got its hat. The Psammead was put into a flat bass-bag that had come from Farringdon Market with two pounds of filleted plaice in it. Now it contained about three pounds and a quarter of solid Psammead, and the children took it in turns to carry it.