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Nesbit, E. (Edith), 1858-1924

"The Phoenix and the Carpet"

'
'But I thought you lived 500 years,' said Robert, and you've hardly
begun this set of years. Think of all the time that's before you.'
'Time,' said the Phoenix, 'is, as you are probably aware, merely a
convenient fiction. There is no such thing as time. I have lived
in these two months at a pace which generously counterbalances 500
years of life in the desert. I am old, I am weary. I feel as if
I ought to lay my egg, and lay me down to my fiery sleep. But
unless I'm careful I shall be hatched again instantly, and that is
a misfortune which I really do not think I COULD endure. But do
not let me intrude these desperate personal reflections on your
youthful happiness. What is the show at the theatre to-night?
Wrestlers? Gladiators? A combat of cameleopards and unicorns?'
'I don't think so,' said Cyril; 'it's called "The Water Babies",
and if it's like the book there isn't any gladiating in it. There
are chimney-sweeps and professors, and a lobster and an otter and
a salmon, and children living in the water.'
'It sounds chilly.' The Phoenix shivered, and went to sit on the
tongs.
'I don't suppose there will be REAL water,' said Jane. 'And
theatres are very warm and pretty, with a lot of gold and lamps.
Wouldn't you like to come with us?'
'_I_ was just going to say that,' said Robert, in injured tones,
'only I know how rude it is to interrupt.


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