“But you can’t give us wishes. I’ve promised never to have another wish from you,” said the bewildered Cyril.
“Don’t be a silly little idiot,” said the Sand-fairy in trembling but affectionate tones, “but find out how much money you’ve got between you, and do exactly what I tell you.”
Cyril, pointing a stiff and unmeaning finger at the white rat, so as to pretend that its charms alone employed his tongue, explained matters to the others, while the Psammead hunched itself, and bunched itself, and did its very best to make itself look uninteresting.
Then the four children filed into the shop.
“How much do you want for that white rat?” asked Cyril.
“Eighteenpence to five bob, according to the breed.”
“Fourpence. Now look here,” said the greasy owner of all this caged life with a sudden ferocity which made the whole party back hurriedly on to the wainscoting of hutches with which the shop was lined. “Lookee here. I ain’t agoin’ to have you a comin’ in here a turnin’ the whole place outer winder, an’ prizing every animile in the stock just for your larks, so don’t think it! If you’re a buyer, _be_ a buyer—but I never had a customer yet as wanted to buy mice, and lizards, and toads, and guineas all at once. So hout you goes.”
“Oh! wait a minute,” said the wretched Cyril, feeling how foolishly yet well-meaningly he had carried out the Psammead’s instructions. “Just tell me one thing. What do you want for the mangy old monkey in the third hutch from the end?”
The shopman only saw in this a new insult.
“Mangy young monkey yourself,” said he; “get along with your blooming cheek. Hout you goes!”
“Oh! don’t be so cross,” said Jane, losing her head altogether, “don’t you see he really _does_ want to know _that!_”
“Ho! does ’e indeed,” sneered the merchant. Then he scratched his ear suspiciously, for he was a sharp business man, and he knew the ring of truth when he heard it. His hand was bandaged, and three minutes before he would have been glad to sell the “mangy old monkey” for ten shillings. Now—
“Ho! ’E does, does ’e,” he said, “then two pun ten’s my price. He’s not got his fellow that monkey ain’t, nor yet his match, not this side of the equator, which he comes from. And the only one ever seen in London. Ought to be in the Zoo. Two pun ten, down on the nail, or _hout_ you goes!”