Cyril and Robert went out with the taste of apple still in their mouths and the purple of blackberries on their lips—and, in the case of Robert, on the wristband as well—and bought a big sheet of cardboard at the stationers. Then at the plumber’s shop, that has tubes and pipes and taps and gas-fittings in the window, they bought a pane of glass the same size as the cardboard. The man cut it with a very interesting tool that had a bit of diamond at the end, and he gave them, out of his own free generousness, a large piece of putty and a small piece of glue. While they were out the girls had floated four photographs of the four children off their cards in hot water. These were now stuck in a row along the top of the cardboard. Cyril put the glue to melt in a jampot, and put the jampot in a saucepan and saucepan on the fire, while Robert painted a wreath of poppies round the photographs. He painted rather well and very quickly, and poppies are easy to do if you’ve once been shown how. Then Anthea drew some printed letters and Jane coloured them. The words were: “With all our loves to shew We like the thigs to eat.” And when the painting was dry they all signed their names at the bottom and put the glass on, and glued brown paper round the edge and over the back, and put two loops of tape to hang it up by. Of course everyone saw when too late that there were not enough letters in “things”, so the missing “n”was put in. It was impossible, of course, to do the whole thing over again for just one letter. “There!” said Anthea, placing it carefully, face up, under the sofa. “It’ll be hours before the glue’s dry. Now, Squirrel, fire ahead!” “Well, then,” said Cyril in a great hurry, rubbing at his gluey hands with his pocket handkerchief. “What I mean to say is this.” There was a long pause. “Well,” said Robert at last, “_what_ is it that you mean to say?” “It’s like this,” said Cyril, and again stopped short. “Like _what?_” asked Jane. “How can I tell you if you will all keep on interrupting?” said Cyril sharply. So no one said any more, and with wrinkled frowns he arranged his ideas. “Look here,” he said, “what I really mean is—we can remember now what we did when we went to look for the Amulet. And if we’d found it we should remember that too.” “Rather!” said Robert. “Only, you see we haven’t.” “But in the future we shall have.” “Shall we, though?” said Jane. “Yes—unless we’ve been made fools of by the Psammead. So then, where we want to go to is where we shall remember about where we did find it.” “I see,” said Robert, but he didn’t. “_I_ don’t,” said Anthea, who did, very nearly. “Say it again, Squirrel, and very slowly.” “If,” said Cyril, very slowly indeed, “we go into the future—after we’ve found the Amulet—” “But we’ve got to find it first,” said Jane. “Hush!” said Anthea.