him go out in the nice flint boat along with the other children -
it was the annual school-treat next day - and he came and flung
himself down near me on the morning of the treat, and he kicked his
little prehistoric legs about and said he wished he was dead. And
of course then he was.'

'How awful!' said the children all together.

'Only till sunset, of course,' the Psammead said; 'still it was
quite enough for his father and mother. And he caught it when he
woke up - I can tell you. He didn't turn to stone - I forget why
- but there must have been some reason. They didn't know being
dead is only being asleep, and you're bound to wake up somewhere or
other, either where you go to sleep or in some better place. You
may be sure he caught it, giving them such a turn. Why, he wasn't
allowed to taste Megatherium for a month after that. Nothing but
oysters and periwinkles, and common things like that.'

All the children were quite crushed by this terrible tale. They
looked at the Psammead in horror. Suddenly the Lamb perceived that
something brown and furry was near him.

'Poof, poof, poofy,' he said, and made a grab.

'It's not a pussy,' Anthea was beginning, when the Sand-fairy
leaped back.

'Oh, my left whisker!' it said; 'don't let him touch me. He's
wet.'