During the conversation in which the six ears were lent (there were four
children, so _that_ sum comes right), it had been decided that fifty
pounds in two-shilling pieces was the right wish to have. And the lucky
children, who could have anything in the wide world by just wishing for
it, hurriedly started for the gravel-pit to express their wishes to the
Psammead. Martha caught them at the gate, and insisted on their taking
the Baby with them.

[Illustration: The lucky children ... hurriedly started for the gravel
pit]

"Not want him indeed! Why, everybody 'ud want him, a duck! with all
their hearts they would; and you know you promised your ma to take him
out every blessed day," said Martha.

"I know we did," said Robert in gloom, "but I wish the Lamb wasn't quite
so young and small. It would be much better fun taking him out."

"He'll mend of his youngness with time," said Martha; "and as for
smallness, I don't think you'd fancy carrying of him any more, however
big he was. Besides he can walk a bit, bless his precious fat legs, a
ducky! He feels the benefit of the new-laid air, so he does, a pet!"

With this and a kiss, she plumped the Lamb into Anthea's arms, and went
back to make new pinafores on the sewing-machine. She was a rapid
performer on this instrument.

The Lamb laughed with pleasure, and said, "Walky wif Panty," and rode on
Robert's back with yells of joy, and tried to feed Jane with stones,
and altogether made himself so agreeable that nobody could long be sorry