I'll tell you all I know. At least, of course I can't do that, because I
know far too much. But I'll tell you all I know about this red thing.'

'Do! Do! Do! Do!' said everyone.

'Well, then,' said the Psammead. 'This thing is half of an Amulet that
can do all sorts of things; it can make the corn grow, and the waters
flow, and the trees bear fruit, and the little new beautiful babies
come. (Not that babies ARE beautiful, of course,' it broke off to say,
'but their mothers think they are--and as long as you think a thing's
true it IS true as far as you're concerned.)'

Robert yawned.

The Psammead went on.

'The complete Amulet can keep off all the things that make people
unhappy--jealousy, bad temper, pride, disagreeableness, greediness,
selfishness, laziness. Evil spirits, people called them when the Amulet
was made. Don't you think it would be nice to have it?'

'Very,' said the children, quite without enthusiasm.

'And it can give you strength and courage.'

'That's better,' said Cyril.

'And virtue.'

'I suppose it's nice to have that,' said Jane, but not with much
interest.

'And it can give you your heart's desire.'

'Now you're talking,' said Robert.

'Of course I am,' retorted the Psammead tartly, 'so there's no need for
you to.'

'Heart's desire is good enough for me,' said Cyril.

'Yes, but,' Anthea ventured, 'all that's what the WHOLE charm can do.
There's something that the half we've got can win off its own bat--isn't
there?' She appealed to the Psammead. It nodded.

'Yes,' it said; 'the half has the power to take you anywhere you like to
look for the other half.'

This seemed a brilliant prospect till Robert asked--

'Does it know where to look?'

The Psammead shook its head and answered, 'I don't think it's likely.'

'Do you?'

'No.'

'Then,' said Robert, 'we might as well look for a needle in a bottle of
hay. Yes--it IS bottle, and not bundle, Father said so.'

'Not at all,' said the Psammead briskly-, 'you think you know
everything, but you are quite mistaken. The first thing is to get the
thing to talk.'

'Can it?' Jane questioned. Jane's question did not mean that she thought
it couldn't, for in spite of the parlour furniture the feeling of magic
was growing deeper and thicker, and seemed to fill the room like a dream
of a scented fog.

'Of course it can. I suppose you can read.'

'Oh yes!' Everyone was rather hurt at the question.

'Well, then--all you've got to