Story

Five Children and It

30 minAges 7-9

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The story

Introduction

Fancy a grand adventure? Imagine a sunny summer day, a deep sandpit, and five curious children digging, digging, digging. What do they find? Not just a bucket and spade, but something quite extraordinary, with eyes on stalks and a funny, grumpy voice! Join us as we dive into a magical tale where wishes come true, but not always in the way you expect. Get ready for a marvellous story from long ago, filled with enchantment and a very peculiar creature.

A Summer Move and a Sandy Surprise

Long, long ago, in a summer that felt like forever, there were five children. Their names were Cyril, Anthea, Robert, Jane, and the baby, who they affectionately called the Lamb. Their father was away, very busy, and their dear mother wasn't feeling very well, so they had to leave their London home for a big house in the countryside. It was a lovely, old place, with a huge, wild garden that had a very interesting secret at the bottom – a gravel pit! On their very first day, the children, full of curiosity, decided to explore. They tumbled down into the gravel pit, which was like a mini mountain range of sand and stones. Digging and playing, making sandcastles and tunnels, they dug deeper and deeper. And then, Robert’s spade hit something soft. It wasn't a stone, and it definitely wasn't sand! As they dug a little more, a pair of eyes on stalks popped up! It was furry, with long ears like a bat’s, and whiskers like a cat. And oh, it had a funny, grumpy voice that croaked, "Well, what do you want?" It was the Psammead, the sand-fairy!

The First Wish: Beauty and Bother

Well, what do you want? croaked the strange, sandy creature. The children were utterly amazed! Cyril, always the first to speak, asked, "Are you a fairy?" The creature sighed, a whispy sound. "I am a Psammead," it grumbled. "And yes, I suppose I *am* a sort of fairy, though not the sparkly kind." It explained that it could grant wishes. But only one wish a day, and the wishes would vanish at sunset. The children gasped! A real wish-granting creature! Jane, who loved pretty things, immediately cried out, "I wish we were all as beautiful as the day!" And before anyone could say 'jelly and ice cream', a strange, shimmery feeling washed over them. Their plain clothes suddenly felt tight and wrong. They looked at each other, then at themselves. Their hair was now golden like sunshine, their eyes as blue as the summer sky, and their faces were perfectly, exquisitely beautiful. They looked like pictures from a fairy tale! But there was a problem. Their clothes no longer fitted, and their voices sounded a bit different. Their own mother wouldn't recognise them! And she didn't! When Mum came out to call them for tea, she walked right past them! "Have you seen my children?" she asked a very beautiful little girl who was actually Jane. Jane tried to explain, but Mum just looked confused. Even their dear old nurse, Martha, was completely baffled. She thought they were important, very beautiful visitors! The children spent the afternoon feeling peculiar. It wasn't nearly as fun as they thought being perfectly beautiful would be. Their clothes were uncomfortable, nobody knew them, and they couldn't even play properly. They just wanted to be themselves again. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, they waited. And then, just as the very last ray of sunshine disappeared... poof! They were back to their old, familiar selves. What a relief! Their clothes felt normal, their voices were their own, and they knew that being beautiful wasn't always the best wish after all.

Riches and Runaways

Well, after their unexpected adventure of being super-duper beautiful, the children remembered something very important about the Psammead's magic. Every wish only lasted until the sun went down. As soon as the last golden ray of sunshine disappeared, poof! Whatever they had wished for went away. And that was a good thing, because being beautiful had caused quite a lot of fuss! The very next morning, the sun shone brightly again, and the children were all sitting together, thinking about what their next wish should be. What magical thing would they ask for today? Cyril, who was always full of ideas, said, "I know! Let's wish for heaps and heaps of money! Gold coins, shiny and sparkling! Then we can buy whatever we want!" Robert's eyes lit up. Anthea, Jane, and the little Lamb, Charles, all agreed. Being rich sounded like a wonderful idea, didn't it? So, they found the furry, grumpy Psammead again, hiding in the sand. "Oh, all right," it grumbled, when Robert explained their wish. "Make your wish quickly, then. I haven't got all day." Robert, feeling very important, wished, "I wish we were richer than anybody!" And just like that, the Psammead swelled up, blinked its eyes, and disappeared back into the sand. Suddenly, the air was full of things. Not just one or two, but thousands and thousands of bright, shiny, heavy gold coins! They rained down like a golden waterfall, covering the children from head to toe. "Wow!" cried Cyril, trying to dig his way out of the shimmering pile. Robert laughed, tumbling in the gold. But very quickly, the laughter stopped. There was so much gold, they couldn't move! It piled up higher and higher, all around them, spilling over the sand. "This is too much!" gasped Jane, trying to push a heavy stack of coins away. Anthea worried, "Where did all this come from? It's not ours!" The little Lamb, Charles, just looked confused, with gold coins tangled in his hair. Just then, they heard a voice. It was the gardener, Mr. Bates, stomping along the path. He had seen the enormous pile of gold glinting in the sunshine! "Ere! What's all this then?" he shouted, his eyes wide. "My gold! Someone's been digging up my gold!" The children tried to explain, but Mr. Bates didn't believe them. He thought they had found some buried treasure and were keeping it all for themselves! Soon, a policeman arrived. Then another! And another! Oh dear, the children were in a lot of trouble. "We wished to be rich!" whispered Cyril, but no one understood. The policemen thought they were talking nonsense. They looked at the huge pile of gold and then at the children, shaking their heads. "We've got to run!" cried Anthea. They managed to scramble out of the gold, pushing and pulling. But as they ran, they realised something else. The gold had stuck to them! It was in their pockets, in their shoes, even tangled in their hair. Each step they took made a jingling, clinking sound, like a thousand tiny bells. It was very difficult to run quietly when you were covered in gold! They ran through the garden, past the rose bushes, and out onto the lane. They could still hear Mr. Bates and the policemen shouting behind them. The children tried to hide in a farmer's field, amongst the tall, green stalks of corn, but their golden glitter and the noisy clinking gave them away. They were tired, scared, and very, very heavy with all that gold. They ran and ran, until the sun began to dip low in the sky, painting the clouds orange and pink. The children huddled together, out of breath, watching the last sliver of sunlight disappear. They closed their eyes, hoping, wishing… And then, silence. The heavy, jingly, clinky sound was gone. They opened their eyes. The gold coins had vanished! Just like their beauty the day before, the riches were gone. They were just ordinary children again, a bit grubby, a bit tired, but safe. What a narrow escape! Being rich, they decided, was much more bother than it was worth. Sometimes, it's better to be just plain old you.

Wings and Wild Adventures

After all that excitement with gold coins and being chased, the children were quite happy to be back to their normal, everyday selves. But a little bit of magic had crept into their lives, and it was hard to forget. They knew there was a curious creature living in the sand-pit, waiting for another wish. What kind of wish would be truly *fun*? Something that didn't make them run into trouble quite so much! One sunny afternoon, when they were feeling a bit restless, Anthea, who loved drawing birds, suddenly said, "Oh, I wish we had wings! Real, feathery wings, so we could fly high, high up in the sky!" Cyril, Robert, Jane, and even little Lamb were listening. And before you could say "Psammead", a sandy sneeze burst from the sand-pit! *Achoo!* And just like that, the wish was granted! Suddenly, something quite amazing happened! Right there, sprouting from their shoulders, were the most beautiful, shimmering wings! Cyril's were like a magnificent hawk's, brown and strong. Anthea's were soft and white, like a dove's. Robert's were bright and colourful, like a kingfisher, and Jane's were delicate and pearly, like a swan's. Even baby Lamb had tiny, fluffy wings, like a little robin! Oh, the children gasped! They stretched their new wings, felt the air beneath them, and then, with a giggle and a whoosh, they were lifting off the ground! Up, up, up they went, higher than the tallest trees, higher than the chimneys of their house! The wind whistled past their ears, and the world below looked like a tiny toy town. They swooped and soared, spun and glided, feeling as free as the birds themselves! "Look at me!" shouted Robert, doing a daring loop-the-loop. "I'm a super-bird!" Anthea pointed to fluffy white clouds. "Let's fly through them!" And they did, feeling the cool, soft mist on their faces. They flew over fields where tiny sheep looked like cotton wool balls, and over sparkling rivers that looked like silver ribbons. It was the most wonderful adventure they had ever had! But then, as they flew over a small village, a farmer in his field looked up. He rubbed his eyes. "Goodness gracious!" he mumbled. "Are those... children? With wings?" He called to his wife, who called to her neighbours, and soon, quite a crowd was looking up, pointing and gasping! The children hadn't thought about being seen! They were supposed to be having a secret adventure! Feeling a bit worried, they decided it was best to land somewhere quiet. They spotted a tall, grey church tower, right in the middle of the village. "Let's land there!" whispered Jane. "No one will see us up high!" So, one by one, they carefully fluttered down, landing gently on the ancient stone roof of the church tower. It was a perfect, secret hiding spot! Or so they thought. From up there, they could see everything! The tiny people below, still pointing and whispering. And then, a big church bell began to ring, *DING-DONG, DING-DONG!* It was Sunday, and people were gathering for church! Oh dear! More and more people arrived, all looking up at the strange sight on their church roof. The children tried to hide behind the big bells, but it was no good. Everyone had seen them! "What shall we do?" cried Anthea. "We can't fly down now, everyone will stare even more!" Robert tried to flap his wings, but they felt a bit tired from all the flying. Cyril tried to shout, but his voice was lost in the sound of the bell. Even little Lamb started to whimper. They were stuck! The sun began to dip lower and lower in the sky, painting the clouds in shades of orange and pink. They remembered what the Psammead had told them – wishes only lasted until sunset. And as the last sliver of sun dipped below the horizon, something truly magical happened. *POOF!* Their beautiful, feathery wings shimmered and sparkled, then slowly, slowly, they faded away, disappearing completely! One moment they were there, the next they were gone! And just as they felt themselves starting to tumble from the church tower, the wish was over. They weren't flying anymore, but they also weren't falling! They were suddenly, magically, back on the soft, safe grass right outside their own garden gate, as if they had never left! The children looked at each other, their eyes wide with wonder. No wings, no church tower, just their own garden. What an adventure! Flying was certainly fun, but being stuck on a church roof was quite a pickle! They decided that maybe having wings all the time would be a bit too much bother too. Sometimes, it's rather nice to just walk on your own two feet, isn't it?

Giants in the Garden

So, after the excitement of flying like birds, the children were quite happy to be back on solid ground. No more flapping, no more getting stuck on church roofs! They spent the next few days playing in the garden, feeling rather pleased with their normal-sized selves. But, you know children, don't you? It wasn't long before they started thinking about what magical adventure they could have next. One sunny afternoon, the five children – Cyril, Anthea, Robert, Jane, and the Baby – were all sitting together, digging in the sand-pit where they'd first found the grumpy old Psammead. "What shall we wish for today?" asked Anthea, twirling a piece of grass between her fingers. Robert, who always liked big, grand ideas, thumped the sand. "I know!" he exclaimed, "Let's wish to be giants!" Jane's eyes went wide. "Giants?" she whispered, "Real, enormous giants?" "Yes!" said Robert, full of his splendid idea. "Imagine! We could step over houses, and the apple tree would just be a little twig!" Cyril, ever the practical one, frowned a little. "But… where would we live? Our house is much too small for giants." "Oh, we wouldn't live in it forever," Robert waved his hand dismissively. "Just for a little while! Just for the afternoon!" Even the Psammead, who was half-buried in the sand, wiggled its furry ears. "Giants, eh?" it grumbled, its eyes blinking. "You children do come up with the silliest wishes. Remember, everything goes back to normal at sunset!" "We know, we know!" chorused the children. So, Robert, taking a deep breath, made the wish. "We wish we were all giants!" And then, a most extraordinary thing began to happen. The children felt a strange stretching sensation. Their clothes suddenly felt very tight, then, *rip!* went a seam! The sand-pit around them seemed to shrink, and the blades of grass became like towering green pillars. The little rose bush in the corner of the garden grew bigger and bigger, until its blossoms were like enormous, colourful hats. Up, up, up they grew! Their heads brushed against the leaves of the great oak tree, which now looked more like a small, potted plant. The garden wall, which was usually so tall, was now just a tiny curb beneath their feet. "Oh my goodness!" cried Jane, her voice sounding a little different, a bit deeper, because she was so much bigger. "Look at my hands!" shouted Robert, holding up an enormous hand. His fingers were as long as little tree branches! Cyril tried to take a step, and nearly stumbled over the garden shed, which was now no bigger than a child's toy box. "Careful, Robert!" he boomed, "Don't step on the toolshed!" Anthea looked down at the tiny house. "Our house!" she gasped. "It's like a doll's house!" The windows were no bigger than her fingernails. They giggled and laughed, feeling so wonderfully big and powerful. The little path that led to the back door was now a narrow ribbon, and the colourful flower beds were patches of bright, tiny dots. "I can see over the fence!" exclaimed Jane, peering into Mrs. Wiggy's garden next door. Mrs. Wiggy's prize-winning dahlias looked like tiny specks of paint. But then, a problem arose. The cook, who was usually very busy making delicious buns in the kitchen, suddenly came out to shake her duster. She looked up, and up, and up! Her eyes grew wider than saucers. There, towering over the house, were five enormous, raggedy giants, their clothes torn at the seams, looking down at her! "Aaaargh!" she shrieked, dropping her duster with a clatter. "Giants! Real giants in the garden!" She turned and scurried back into the house, slamming the door shut with a frightful bang. The children looked at each other. "Oops," said Anthea. "She saw us!" whispered Jane, a little frightened now. "We can't go inside," said Cyril, stating the obvious. "We don't even fit through the gate, let alone the door!" Robert tried to sit on the garden bench, but it instantly crumbled into splinters beneath his enormous weight. "Oh dear," he mumbled. They realised that being giants wasn't quite as much fun when everything around them was so small and fragile. They couldn't play hide-and-seek because their heads poked over all the trees. They couldn't run without accidentally squashing flowerbeds or knocking over the washing line. Even the Baby, who usually gurgled with delight, started to look a bit confused, perhaps missing his normal-sized rattle. The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon, painting the sky in soft oranges and purples. And the Psammead, who had been watching the whole silly affair from its hole in the sand-pit, gave a loud, exasperated sigh. "Well?" it croaked, its voice sounding tiny from their gigantic height. "Are you quite finished with this giant nonsense? The sun will be setting soon, and then you'll all be stuck like this for the night!" That was a scary thought! Stuck as giants! Imagine trying to sleep in their little beds, or trying to eat their tiny suppers! "No!" cried Robert, quickly. "We're finished! We wish to be our normal size again!" The Psammead blinked its eyes, and with another strange stretching, shrinking sensation, the world around them expanded. The oak tree grew tall again, the rose bush returned to its normal size, and the house looked like a proper house, not a doll's toy. Their clothes, which had been ripped to shreds, magically mended themselves, fitting perfectly once more. They were back! Back to their usual selves, small enough to fit through the door, small enough to sit on the garden bench. They looked at each other, a little dishevelled, but very much relieved. "That was a bit too much giant, wasn't it?" said Anthea, smoothing down her skirt. "Definitely," agreed Cyril. "Poor Cook, she must have had quite a shock!" Robert just nodded, looking a little thoughtful. Sometimes, being just the right size for the world around you is the very best size of all. And they decided, for now, that adventures of such enormous proportions were perhaps best left to storybooks. What do you think they'll wish for next, hmm?

Castles and Confusions

The children, Cyril, Anthea, Robert, Jane, and the little Lamb, sat together the next morning, cautious after their giant adventure. Wishing was tricky; they needed something fun, yet harmless. “I know!” cried Jane. “Let’s wish for a beautiful castle! Proper, with towers and secret passages!” Robert frowned. “But where would it fit? Our garden’s too small. And what if it’s scary?” Anthea added, “Mummy and Daddy would be cross if a huge castle appeared in the flowerbeds.” Cyril tapped his chin. “What about a *toy* castle? A big one we could play inside?” “Not the same!” Jane pouted. “I want a *real* castle! Like in storybooks. But small, just for us, fitting in the garden, and not scary.” They looked at the Psammead, half-buried in the sand. “Alright,” said Cyril. “We wish for a real, proper castle, the right size for us to play in, with towers, battlements, and secret passages. And it needs to fit perfectly on the lawn, without squashing the flowers, please, Psammead!” He added the ‘please’ just in case. The Psammead blinked, puffed up, and with a great stretch, *whooshed* out another wish. Sand flew everywhere. When they rubbed their eyes, there it was! But not what they expected. Instead of a miniature castle, stood a very old, grey, crumbling… gateway. Just a gateway. Huge, dark, heavy stones, a massive wooden door studded with rusty iron. It looked like an entrance to an enormous, ancient castle, yet stood alone in their bright green lawn. And it was definitely not small. “Oh, dear,” whispered Anthea. “I think the Psammead misunderstood.” “Misunderstood?!” cried Robert. “It’s just the front door! What good is that?” Jane, however, was running towards it. “It’s got a portcullis! Look! And a drawbridge chain! This is brilliant!” She tried to push the huge door. Cyril and Robert joined her, but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked tight. “Maybe the castle is *behind* the door?” suggested Anthea. They peered through cracks, seeing only darkness. And a faint, earthy smell. Suddenly, a small, official-looking man in a dark suit appeared. He marched past them, straight to the gateway. “Excuse me!” he huffed, waving a paper. “Who is responsible for this… monstrosity?” The children looked at each other. “It just… appeared,” said Robert, truthfully, knowing it sounded ridiculous. The man spluttered. “Appeared? Nonsense! This is a Grade I listed monument! It belongs in Northumberland, not a suburban garden in Kent!” “Northumberland?” whispered Jane. “Is that where the rest of the castle is?” “The rest is a ruin, young lady, and it’s meant to stay there!” the man exclaimed. “This gateway, the Great Keep Entrance of Castle Blackwood, was being restored! We’ve been searching for it all morning! It was supposed to be delivered next week!” The children’s jaws dropped. The Psammead had magicked a *real* piece of history from hundreds of miles away! Just then, Mummy came out. Her eyes went wide at the enormous stone gateway. “Goodness gracious!” she cried. “What on earth is that?” The official man turned to Mummy. “Madam, I am from the Historic Buildings Commission, and there has been a most egregious… historical transportation error. This gateway…” He gestured wildly. “This gateway is supposed to be hundreds of miles north!” Mummy looked from the man to the children, then back to the gateway. “We… we wished for a castle,” mumbled Anthea, almost too quietly to hear. Mummy frowned. “A castle, darling? Did you build this out of wood with Daddy? It looks awfully heavy.” She tried to push a stone. It didn’t move. The man gasped. “Build it? Madam, this is 800-year-old stone! It weighs tonnes! It’s priceless!” Just then, a huge lorry rumbled down the street. On the side, “HISTORIC RELOCATION SERVICES.” The driver, a large man, peered at his map, then at their house, then at the massive gateway. “Excuse me, mate,” he called. “Is this number 42? Because I’m meant to be picking up a large stone archway for Castle Blackwood, and it’s gone missing from Dover!” The official man threw his hands up. “Gone missing? It’s here! Right here, in this lady’s flowerbed! How it got here, I do not know, but it is causing absolute chaos!” Mummy, trying to make sense, stepped forward. “Well, I’m terribly sorry, I don’t know how it got here either. My children were just playing.” She gave them a very stern look. The children knew they were in deep, deep trouble. They quickly ran back to the sandpit. The Psammead was still there, looking rather smug. “Psammead!” whispered Cyril, “You’ve got to make it go away! Mummy is going to be so cross!” “We just wanted a small castle for *us*,” Jane added, “not a giant historical monument!” The Psammead blinked slowly. “A wish is a wish,” it rasped. “You wished for a real castle, just the right size for you to play in, with towers and battlements. This is a real castle gateway. And it *is* just the right size for you to play *through*. You didn’t say you wanted the *rest* of the castle.” “But we don’t want *this* castle!” cried Robert. “It’s causing trouble!” The Psammead sighed. “Then you must wish it gone, before sunset. As with all wishes.” Quickly, before the men could argue more with Mummy, Cyril shouted, “We wish the castle gateway would go back exactly where it came from, right now!” The Psammead took a deep breath, puffed up, and *whooshed* out a final cloud of sand. They squeezed their eyes shut, waiting. When they opened them, the lawn was empty. The huge stone gateway, gone. The official man stared, mouth open. The lorry driver blinked, baffled. Mummy just stood there, looking very tired and pale. She looked at her children, then at the empty lawn. “What… what *was* that, children?” she asked. The children knew they couldn’t tell her the truth. “It was… it was a dream, Mummy,” said Anthea, trying to sound convincing. “A very, very vivid dream.” Mummy shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Well, it was a very heavy dream, wasn’t it? Perhaps we should stick to building sandcastles that stay in the sandpit, hmm?” And with that, she led them inside, leaving the bewildered men to wonder where on earth a huge, ancient castle gateway could have vanished to. The children knew, of course. But they also knew that wishing for things was much harder, and more confusing, than they had imagined. Especially when a grumpy sand-fairy was involved! What do you think they’ll try next? And will they ever learn to be super-duper specific with their wishes? We’ll find out soon!

The Baby and the Grown-Up Trouble

Still learning about wishing, the children had a new idea one sunny morning. Their baby brother, Gerald, known as the Lamb, was sweet. He gurgled, chewed his toes, and cried for milk. A lovely baby, but he often hindered their grander adventures. Cyril, the eldest, sighed, watching the baby try to eat sand. 'If only the Lamb were older,' he wished. 'Then he could play proper games – a knight, a dragon, or even a runaway prince!' Anthea added, 'And he wouldn't need constant looking after! Nurse wouldn't carry him, and Mummy wouldn't always warn, 'Be careful of the baby!'' Robert chimed in, 'Yes! He could even dig for the Psammead himself! Think of the wishes then!' Jane, the quietest, just imagined a slightly older Lamb, laughing and running with them through the fields. The idea began to sparkle. What could possibly go wrong if the Lamb was grown up enough to be a proper playmate? This seemed like a perfectly splendid wish. Off they went to the gravel pit. It didn't take long to unearth their furry, grumpy friend. The Psammead popped out, blinking its snail-like eyes. 'Well?' it grumbled, 'What foolishness have you come up with today?' Robert stepped forward. 'Please, Psammead,' he said, 'we wish the Lamb was grown up!' The Psammead froze. 'Grown up?' it repeated slowly. 'Are you quite sure? Wishes are tricky, especially when they involve changing people.' But the children insisted, imagining a five or six-year-old playmate. The Psammead sighed, a sound like dry leaves. It puffed itself up, bigger and bigger, until it looked like a giant furry dandelion. Then, a shimmering, sparkly magic filled the air. They looked at the Lamb, playing with a wooden soldier. As the magic swirled, he began to change. He grew taller, much taller. His baby clothes vanished, replaced by a tweed suit! His soft baby hair was gone, replaced by a rather bushy, brown moustache! His gurgles turned into a deep cough. The children stared, mouths open. Instead of their sweet Lamb, there stood a rather *large*, unfamiliar man! He had a bushy moustache, a tweed suit, and a bewildered look. He certainly wasn't their baby brother! The grown-up Lamb squinted through spectacles that appeared on his nose. 'Where in the blazes am I?' he demanded. 'And who are you small people? I was just enjoying a cigar and the morning paper!' He seemed rather cross. The children gasped. This wasn't just a bigger Lamb; this was a stranger who didn't recognise them! 'You're... you're the Lamb!' cried Anthea. The man snorted. 'Lamb? Don't be ridiculous. My name is Gerald, a respected Member of Parliament. Now, where's the nearest train station? I have an important meeting in London.' Their hearts sank. This was a disaster! The grown-up Lamb started towards the garden gate, muttering about missing his train. The children panicked. 'No, no, you can't go!' shouted Robert, tugging his jacket. 'You're our brother!' The man just looked annoyed. 'Kindly unhand me. I have no brothers, especially not small, excitable ones.' Just then, Nurse came out, holding the baby's milk. She looked towards the rug, then blinked. 'Good heavens! Who is this man? And where is my precious Lamb?' Her voice rose. The grown-up Lamb made a dash for the gate! 'I'm off to London! Can't stay here, no proper amenities!' Nurse shrieked. 'Stop him! He's a kidnapper! He's taken the baby!' Then Mummy appeared. Imagine her surprise: a strange man in a tweed suit running down her garden path, four children chasing him, shouting he was their baby brother, and Nurse screaming about a kidnapper! Mummy thought he was a burglar! 'Stop him! He's trying to get away with something!' Just as the grown-up Lamb reached the pavement, PC Plod cycled past. He saw the man, the screaming Nurse, the panicking Mummy, and the shouting children. He immediately jumped off his bike. 'What's all this then?' PC Plod asked, looking stern. 'Looks like we have a spot of bother!' The grown-up Lamb tried to explain, but everyone was shouting. 'He's our baby!' cried Anthea. 'He's a burglar!' shouted Mummy. 'He's taken the Lamb!' wailed Nurse. The children were beside themselves. 'Oh, Psammead,' whispered Jane, 'we wish we hadn't wished! We just want our baby Lamb back!' They knew the wish would only last until sunset. But sunset felt so very far away! It was a terrible muddle. The children just watched, their hearts thumping. They kept looking at the sun, which seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. Please, please, go down, they thought! Finally, as the sun dipped low, painting the sky orange and pink, the magic began to fade. It started subtly. The grown-up Lamb paused mid-sentence. His tweed suit seemed to ripple. His moustache twitched. Then, with a soft *pop*, the tweed suit vanished! His spectacles disappeared! The man began to shrink, smaller and smaller, until there, on the grass, where a bewildered Member of Parliament had stood, was their own dear, tiny Lamb, gurgling happily, without a moustache or a tweed suit! He was just reaching for a blade of grass. Everyone stopped. PC Plod stared. Mummy stared. Nurse, who had been crying, stared. They looked from the spot where the man had been, to the tiny baby, and then back again. 'Well, I never!' whispered Nurse, picking up the baby. 'He's just... appeared!' Mummy was relieved to have her baby back. PC Plod scratched his head, deciding it must have been a trick of the light. The children, however, knew exactly what had happened. They were so glad their baby brother was back to being a baby. They hugged him tightly, promising never, ever to wish him grown up again. Another wish gone wonderfully wrong, hadn't it? It seemed wishing for people to be different was a very tricky business indeed. What will they wish for next? And will they ever, ever learn to be careful? We'll find out in our next adventure!

Outro

What a super adventure that was, wasn't it? Thank you for listening to our story today, we really loved having you with us. Remember, if you enjoyed it, or have any clever ideas of your own, please let Sonacasts know if you have any feedback. Who knows what magical things you might discover? We hope to share another tale with you very soon. Cheerio for now!