there stood the six in a ring, as before, only their twelve feet,
instead of standing on the carpet of the learned gentleman's room, stood
on green grass. Above them, instead of the dusky ceiling of the Fitzroy
Street floor, was a pale blue sky. And where the walls had been and the
painted mummy-case, were tall dark green trees, oaks and ashes, and in
between the trees and under them tangled bushes and creeping ivy. There
were beech-trees too, but there was nothing under them but their own
dead red drifted leaves, and here and there a delicate green fern-frond.

And there they stood in a circle still holding hands, as though they
were playing Ring-o'-Roses or the Mulberry Bush. Just six people hand in
hand in a wood. That sounds simple, but then you must remember that they
did not know WHERE the wood was, and what's more, they didn't know WHEN
then wood was. There was a curious sort of feeling that made the learned
gentleman say--

'Another dream, dear me!' and made the children almost certain that they
were in a time a very long while ago. As for little Imogen, she said,
'Oh, my!' and kept her mouth very much open indeed.

'Where are we?' Cyril asked the Psammead.

'In Britain,' said the Psammead.

'But when?' asked Anthea anxiously.

'About the year fifty-five before the year you reckon time from,' said
the Psammead crossly. 'Is there anything else you want to know?' it
added, sticking its head out of the bag formed by Anthea's blue linen
frock, and turning its snail's eyes to right and left. 'I've been here
before--it's very little changed.' 'Yes, but why here?' asked Anthea.

'Your inconsiderate friend,' the Psammead replied, 'wished to find some
home where they would be glad to have that unattractive and immature
female human being whom you have picked up--gracious knows how. In
Megatherium days properly brought-up children didn't talk to shabby
strangers in parks. Your thoughtless friend wanted a place where someone
would be glad to have this undesirable stranger. And now here you are!'

'I see we are,' said Anthea patiently, looking round on the tall gloom
of the forest. 'But why HERE? Why NOW?'

'You don't suppose anyone would want a child like that in YOUR times--in
YOUR towns?' said the Psammead in irritated tones. 'You've got
your country into such a mess that there's no room for half your
children--and no one to want them.'

'That's not our doing, you know,' said Anthea gently.

'And bringing me