'It was rather a long journey,' said the parrot, 'but I thought it better to come back by wing. The Hippogriff offered to bring me; he is the soul of courteous gentleness. But he was tired too. The Pretenderette is in gaol for the moment, but I'm afraid she'll get out again; we're so unused to having prisoners, you see. And it's no use putting _her_ on her honour, because----' 'Because she hasn't any,' Philip finished. 'I wouldn't say _that_,' said the parrot, 'of anybody. I'd only say we haven't come across it. What about breakfast?' 'How meals do keep happening,' said Lucy, yawning; 'it seems only a few minutes since supper. And yet here we are, hungry again!' 'Ah!' said the parrot, 'that's what people always feel when they have to get their meals themselves!' When the camel and the dogs had been served with breakfast, the children and the parrot sat down to eat. And there were many questions to ask. The parrot answered some, and some it didn't answer. 'But there's one thing,' said Lucy, 'I do most awfully want to know. About the Hippogriff. How did it get out of the book?' 'It's a long story,' said the parrot, 'so I'll tell it shortly. That's a very good rule. Tell short stories longly and long stories shortly. Many years ago, in repairing one of the buildings, the masons removed the supports of one of the books which are part of the architecture. The book fell. It fell open, and out came the Hippogriff. Then they saw something struggling under the next page and lifted it, and out came a megatherium. So they shut the book and built it into the wall again.' 'But how did the megawhatsitsname and the Hippogriff come to be the proper size?' 'Ah! that's one of the eleven mysteries. Some sages suppose that the country gave itself a sort of shake and everything settled down into the size it ought to be. I think myself that it's the air. The moment you breathe this enchanted air you become the right size. _You_ did, you know.' 'But why did they shut the book?' 'It was a book of beasts. Who knows what might have come out next? A tiger perhaps. And ravening for its prey as likely as not.' 'I see,' said Philip; 'and of course beasts weren't really _needed_, because of there being all the Noah's Ark ones.' 'Yes,' said the parrot, 'so they shut the book.' 'But the weather came out of books?' 'That was another book, a poetry book. It had only one cover, so everything that was on the last page got out naturally. We got a lot out of that page, rain and sun and sky and clouds, mountains, gardens, roses, lilies, flowers in general, "Blossoms of delight" they were called in the book and trees and the sea, and the desert and silver and iron--as much of all of them as anybody could possibly want. There are no limits to poets' imaginations, you know.' 'I see,' said Lucy, and took a large bite of cake. 'And where did you come from, Polly, dear?'