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The Phoenix and the Carpet by E. (Edith) Nesbit
page 66 of 272 (24%)
And there was. So now the children went on through the wood more
quickly and comfortably, the girls picking flowers and the Lamb
inviting the 'pretty dickies' to observe that he himself was a
'little white real-water-wet duck!'

And all this time he hadn't whooping-coughed once.

The path turned and twisted, and, always threading their way amid
a tangle of flowers, the children suddenly passed a corner and
found themselves in a forest clearing, where there were a lot of
pointed huts--the huts, as they knew at once, of SAVAGES.

The boldest heart beat more quickly. Suppose they WERE cannibals.
It was a long way back to the carpet.

'Hadn't we better go back?' said Jane. 'Go NOW,' she said, and her
voice trembled a little. 'Suppose they eat us.'

'Nonsense, Pussy,' said Cyril, firmly. 'Look, there's a goat tied
up. That shows they don't eat PEOPLE.'

'Let's go on and say we're missionaries,' Robert suggested.

'I shouldn't advise THAT,' said the Phoenix, very earnestly.

'Why not?'

'Well, for one thing, it isn't true,' replied the golden bird.

It was while they stood hesitating on the edge of the clearing that
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