does.'

'No go,' said the Psammead. 'It's just the same as your wishing
yourself if you get some one else to wish for you. It won't
act.'

'But it did yesterday--with the man in the shop,' said Robert.

'Ah yes,' said the creature, 'but you didn't ASK him to wish, and
you didn't know what would happen if he did. That can't be done
again. It's played out.'

'Then you can't help us at all,' said Jane; 'oh--I did think you
could do something; I've been thinking about it ever since we
saved your life yesterday. I thought you'd be certain to be able
to fetch back Father, even if you couldn't manage Mother.'

And Jane began to cry.

'Now DON'T,' said the Psammead hastily; 'you know how it always
upsets me if you cry. I can't feel safe a moment. Look here;
you must have some new kind of charm.'

'That's easier said than done.'

'Not a bit of it,' said the creature; 'there's one of the
strongest charms in the world not a stone's throw from where you
bought me yesterday. The man that I bit so--the first one, I
mean--went into a shop to ask how much something cost--I think he
said it was a concertina--and while he was telling the man in the