He watched his opportunity and threw a handful of sand into
Anthea's face, and then suddenly burrowed his own head in the sand
and waved his fat legs in the air. Then of course the sand got
into his eyes, as it had into Anthea's, and he howled.

The thoughtful Robert had brought one solid brown bottle of
ginger-beer with him, relying on a thirst that had never yet failed
him. This had to be uncorked hurriedly - it was the only wet thing
within reach, and it was necessary to wash the sand out of the
Lamb's eyes somehow. Of course the ginger hurt horribly, and he
howled more than ever. And, amid his anguish of kicking, the
bottle was upset and the beautiful ginger-beer frothed out into the
sand and was lost for ever.

It was then that Robert, usually a very patient brother, so far
forgot himself as to say:

'Anybody would want him, indeed! Only they don't; Martha doesn't,
not really, or she'd jolly well keep him with her. He's a little
nuisance, that's what he is. It's too bad. I only wish everybody
DID want him with all their hearts; we might get some peace in our
lives.'

The Lamb stopped howling now, because Jane had suddenly remembered
that there is only one safe way of taking things out of little
children's eyes, and that is with your own soft wet tongue. It is
quite easy if you love the Baby as much as you ought to.

Then there was a little silence. Robert was not proud of himself
for having been so cross, and the others were not proud of him