Then Uncle Richard took them on the beautiful Medway in a boat, and
then they all had tea at a beautiful pastrycook's, and when they
reached home it was far too late to have any wishes that day.

They did not tell Uncle Richard anything about the Psammead. I do
not know why. And they do not know why. But I daresay you can
guess.

The day after Uncle Richard had behaved so handsomely was a very
hot day indeed. The people who decide what the weather is to be,
and put its orders down for it in the newspapers every morning,
said afterwards that it was the hottest day there had been for
years. They had ordered it to be 'warmer - some showers', and
warmer it certainly was. In fact it was so busy being warmer that
it had no time to attend to the order about showers, so there
weren't any.

Have you ever been up at five o'clock on a fine summer morning? It
is very beautiful. The sunlight is pinky and yellowy, and all the
grass and trees are covered with dew-diamonds. And all the shadows
go the opposite way to the way they do in the evening, which is
very interesting and makes you feel as though you were in a new
other world.

Anthea awoke at five. She had made herself wake, and I must tell
you how it is done, even if it keeps you waiting for the story to
go on.

You get into bed at night, and lie down quite flat on your little
back with your hands straight down by your sides. Then you say 'I