He's always talking about things he's never seen.' So they dressed the Lamb and themselves in out-of-doors clothes, and the Lamb chuckled and coughed, and laughed and coughed again, poor dear, and all the chairs and tables were moved off the carpet by the boys, while Jane nursed the Lamb, and Anthea rushed through the house in one last wild hunt for the missing Phoenix.
'It's no use waiting for it,' she said, reappearing breathless in the breakfast-room.

'But I know it hasn't deserted us.

It's a bird of its word.' 'Quite so,' said the gentle voice of the Phoenix from beneath the table.
Every one fell on its knees and looked up, and there was the Phoenix perched on a crossbar of wood that ran across under the table, and had once supported a drawer, in the happy days before the drawer had been used as a boat, and its bottom unfortunately trodden out by Raggett's Really Reliable School Boots on the feet of Robert.
'I've been here all the time,' said the Phoenix, yawning politely behind its claw.

'If you wanted me you should have recited the ode of invocation; it's seven thousand lines long, and written in very pure and beautiful Greek.' 'Couldn't you tell it us in English ?' asked Anthea.
'It's rather long, isn't it ?' said Jane, jumping the Lamb on her knee.
'Couldn't you make a short English version, like Tate and Brady ?' 'Oh, come along, do,' said Robert, holding out his hand.

'Come along, good old Phoenix.' 'Good old BEAUTIFUL Phoenix,' it corrected shyly.
'Good old BEAUTIFUL Phoenix, then.