"Servants _do_ like taking babies to see their relations," Cyril said; "I've noticed it before--especially in their best clothes." "I expect they pretend they're their own babies, and that they're not servants at all, but married to noble dukes of high degree, and they say the babies are the little dukes and duchesses," Jane suggested dreamily, taking more marmalade. "I expect that's what Martha'll say to her cousin. She'll enjoy herself most frightfully." "She won't enjoy herself most frightfully carrying our infant duke to Rochester," said Robert; "not if she's anything like me--she won't." "Fancy walking to Rochester with the Lamb on your back!" said Cyril in full agreement. "She's gone by the carrier's cart," said Jane. "Let's see them off, then we shall have done a polite and kindly act, and we shall be quite sure we've got rid of them for the day." So they did. Martha wore her Sunday dress of two shades of purple, so tight in the chest that it made her stoop, and her blue hat with the pink cornflowers and white ribbon. She had a yellow-lace collar with a green bow. And the Lamb had indeed his very best cream-colored silk coat and hat. It was a smart party that the carrier's cart picked up at the Cross Roads. When its white tilt and red wheels had slowly vanished in a swirl of chalk-dust-- "And now for the Sammyadd!" said Cyril, and off they went. As they went they decided on the wish they would ask for. Although they were all in a great hurry they did not try to climb down the sides of the gravel-pit, but went round by the safe lower road, as if they had been carts. They had made a ring of stones round the place where the Sand-fairy had disappeared, so they easily found the spot. The sun was burning and bright, and the sky was deep blue--without a cloud. The sand was very hot to touch. "Oh--suppose it was only a dream, after all," Robert said as the boys uncovered their spades from the sand-heap where they had buried them and began to dig. "Suppose you were a sensible chap," said Cyril; "one's quite as likely as the other!" "Suppose you kept a civil tongue in your head," Robert snapped. "Suppose we girls take a turn," said Jane, laughing. "You boys seem to be getting very warm." "Suppose you don't come putting your silly oar in," said Robert, who was now warm indeed. "We won't," said Anthea quickly. "Robert dear, don't be so grumpy--we won't say a word, you shall be the one to speak to the Fairy and tell him what we've decided to wish for. You'll say it much better than we shall." "Suppose you drop being a little humbug," said Robert, but not crossly. "Look out--dig with your hands, now!" So they did, and presently uncovered the spider-shaped brown hairy body, long arms and legs, bat's ears and snail's eyes of the Sand-fairy himself. Everyone drew a deep breath of satisfaction, for now of course it couldn't have been a dream. The Psammead sat up and shook the sand out of its fur.