You are poor, your wives and children are pining for food.

The barns of the rich are full to bursting with the corn we want, the corn our labour has grown.

To the granaries!' 'To the granaries!' cried half the crowd; but another voice shouted clear above the tumult, 'To Pharaoh! To the King! Let's present a petition to the King! He will listen to the voice of the oppressed!' For a moment the crowd swayed one way and another--first towards the granaries and then towards the palace.

Then, with a rush like that of an imprisoned torrent suddenly set free, it surged along the street towards the palace, and the children were carried with it.

Anthea found it difficult to keep the Psammead from being squeezed very uncomfortably.
The crowd swept through the streets of dull-looking houses with few windows, very high up, across the market where people were not buying but exchanging goods.