Wet Magic
"You don't know what a lark sandcastles are, France," she added kindly, "because you've never seen the sea before."
So then they all dug and piled and patted and made molds of their pails to stand as towers to the castle and dug out dungeons and tunnels and bridges, only the roof always gave way in the end unless you had beaten the sand very tight beforehand. It was a glorious castle, though not quite finished when the first thin flat wash of the sea reached it. And then everyone worked twice as hard trying to keep the sea out till all was hopeless, and then everyone crowded into the castle and the sea washed it away bit by bit till there was only a shapeless island left, and everyone was wet through and had to change every single thing the minute they got home. You will know by that how much they enjoyed themselves.
After the roast rabbit and the apple dumplings Mother started on the sunbonnet-and-meet-Daddy expedition. Francis went with her to the station and returned a little sad.
"I had to promise not to touch any of the animals," he said. "And perhaps a Mermaid is an animal."
"Not if she can speak," said Kathleen. "I say, don't you think we ought to wear our best things—I do. It's more respectable to the wonders of the deep. She'd like us to look beautiful."
"I'm not going to change for anybody," said Bernard firmly.
"All right, Bear," said Mavis. "Only we will. Remember it's magic."
"I say, France," he said, "do you think we ought to change?"
"No, I don't," Francis answered. "I don't believe Mermaids care a bit what you've got on. You see, they don't wear anything but tails and hair and looking glasses themselves. If there's any beautifulness to be done they jolly well do it themselves. But I don't say you wouldn't be better for washing your hands again, and you might as well try to get some of the sand out of your hair. It looks like the wrong end of a broom as it is."
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