They did, indeed, ask the price of the very, very smallest, and it was sixty-five pounds--but that was because it was a Japanese toy spaniel like the Queen once had her portrait painted with, when she was only Princess of Wales.

But the children thought, if the smallest was all that money, the biggest would run into thousands--so they went on.
And they did not stop at any more cat or dog or bird shops, but passed them by, and at last they came to a shop that seemed as though it only sold creatures that did not much mind where they were--such as goldfish and white mice, and sea-anemones and other aquarium beasts, and lizards and toads, and hedgehogs and tortoises, and tame rabbits and guinea-pigs.

And there they stopped for a long time, and fed the guinea-pigs with bits of bread through the cage-bars, and wondered whether it would be possible to keep a sandy-coloured double-lop in the basement of the house in Fitzroy Street.
'I don't suppose old Nurse would mind VERY much,' said Jane.

'Rabbits are most awfully tame sometimes.

I expect it would know her voice and follow her all about.' 'She'd tumble over it twenty times a day,' said Cyril; 'now a snake--' 'There aren't any snakes, said Robert hastily, 'and besides, I never could cotton to snakes somehow--I wonder why.' 'Worms are as bad,' said Anthea, 'and eels and slugs--I think it's because we don't like things that haven't got legs.' 'Father says snakes have got legs hidden away inside of them,' said Robert.
'Yes--and he says WE'VE got tails hidden away inside us--but it doesn't either of it come to anything REALLY,' said Anthea.