Next moment there was a soft cracking sound; the egg burst in two,
and out of it came a flame-coloured bird. It rested a moment among
the flames, and as it rested there the four children could see it
growing bigger and bigger under their eyes.

Every mouth was a-gape, every eye a-goggle.

The bird rose in its nest of fire, stretched its wings, and flew
out into the room. It flew round and round, and round again, and
where it passed the air was warm. Then it perched on the fender.
The children looked at each other. Then Cyril put out a hand
towards the bird. It put its head on one side and looked up at
him, as you may have seen a parrot do when it is just going to
speak, so that the children were hardly astonished at all when it
said, 'Be careful; I am not nearly cool yet.'

They were not astonished, but they were very, very much interested.

They looked at the bird, and it was certainly worth looking at.
Its feathers were like gold. It was about as large as a bantam,
only its beak was not at all bantam-shaped. 'I believe I know what
it is,' said Robert. 'I've seen a picture.'

He hurried away. A hasty dash and scramble among the papers on
father's study table yielded, as the sum-books say, 'the desired
result'. But when he came back into the room holding out a paper,
and crying, 'I say, look here,' the others all said 'Hush!' and he
hushed obediently and instantly, for the bird was speaking.

'Which of you,' it was saying, 'put the egg into the fire?'