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ONCEtherewerefourchildrenwhosenameswerePeter,Susan,EdmundandLucy.ThisstoryisaboutsomethingthathappenedtothemwhentheyweresentawayfromLondonduringthewarbecauseoftheair-raids.TheyweresenttothehouseofanoldProfessorwholivedintheheartofthecountry,tenmilesfromthenearestrailwaystationandtwomilesfromthenearestpostoffice.HehadnowifeandhelivedinaverylargehousewithahousekeepercalledMrs.Macreadyandthreeservants.(TheirnameswereIvy,MargaretandBetty,buttheydonotcomeintothestorymuch.)Hehimselfwasaveryoldmanwithshaggywhitehairwhichgrewovermostofhisfaceaswellasonhishead,andtheylikedhimalmostatonce;butonthefirsteveningwhenhecameouttomeetthematthefrontdoorhewassoodd-lookingthatLucy(whowastheyoungest)wasalittleafraidofhim,andEdmund(whowasthenextyoungest)wantedtolaughandhadtokeeponpretendinghewasblowinghisnosetohideit.
AssoonastheyhadsaidgoodnighttotheProfessorandgoneupstairsonthefirstnight,theboyscameintothegirls’roomandtheyalltalkeditover.
“We’vefallenonourfeetandnomistake,”saidPeter.“Thisisgoingtobeperfectlysplendid.Thatoldchapwillletusdoanythingwelike.”
“Ithinkhe’sanolddear,”saidSusan.
“Oh,comeoffit!”saidEdmund,whowastiredandpretendingnottobetired,whichalwaysmadehimbad-tempered.“Don’tgoontalkinglikethat.”
“Likewhat?”saidSusan;“andanyway,it’stimeyouwereinbed.”
“TryingtotalklikeMother,”saidEdmund.“AndwhoareyoutosaywhenI’mtogotobed?Gotobedyourself.”
“Hadn’tweallbettergotobed?”saidLucy.“There’ssuretobearowifwe’reheardtalkinghere.”
“Notherewon’t,”saidPeter.“Itellyouthisisthesortofhousewherenoone’sgoingtomindwhatwedo.Anyway,theywon’thearus.It’sabouttenminutes’walkfromheredowntothatdining-room,andanyamountofstairsandpassagesinbetween.”
“What’sthatnoise?”saidLucysuddenly.Itwasafarlargerhousethanshehadeverbeeninbeforeandthethoughtofallthoselongpassagesandrowsofdoorsleadingintoemptyroomswasbeginningtomakeherfeelalittlecreepy.
“It’sonlyabird,silly,”saidEdmund.
“It’sanowl,”saidPeter.“Thisisgoingtobeawonderfulplaceforbirds.Ishallgotobednow.Isay,let’sgoandexploretomorrow.Youmightfindanythinginaplacelikethis.Didyouseethosemountainsaswecamealong?Andthewoods?Theremightbeeagles.Theremightbestags.There’llbehawks.”
“Badgers!”saidLucy.
“Foxes!”saidEdmund.
“Rabbits!”saidSusan.
Butwhennextmorningcametherewasasteadyrainfalling,sothickthatwhenyoulookedoutofthewindowyoucouldseeneitherthemountainsnorthewoodsnoreventhestreaminthegarden.
“Ofcourseitwouldberaining!”saidEdmund.TheyhadjustfinishedtheirbreakfastwiththeProfessorandwereupstairsintheroomhehadsetapartforthem-along,lowroomwithtwowindowslookingoutinonedirectionandtwoinanother.
“Dostopgrumbling,Ed,”saidSusan.“Tentooneit’llclearupinanhourorso.Andinthemeantimewe’reprettywelloff.There’sawirelessandlotsofbooks.”
“Notforme”saidPeter;“I’mgoingtoexploreinthehouse.”
Everyoneagreedtothisandthatwashowtheadventuresbegan.Itwasthesortofhousethatyouneverseemtocometotheendof,anditwasfullofunexpectedplaces.Thefirstfewdoorstheytriedledonlyintosparebedrooms,aseveryonehadexpectedthattheywould;butsoontheycametoaverylongroomfullofpicturesandtheretheyfoundasuitofarmour;andafterthatwasaroomallhungwithgreen,withaharpinonecorner;andthencamethreestepsdownandfivestepsup,andthenakindoflittleupstairshallandadoorthatledoutontoabalcony,andthenawholeseriesofroomsthatledintoeachotherandwerelinedwithbooks-mostofthemveryoldbooksandsomebiggerthanaBibleinachurch.Andshortlyafterthattheylookedintoaroomthatwasquiteemptyexceptforonebigwardrobe;thesortthathasalooking-glassinthedoor.Therewasnothingelseintheroomatallexceptadeadblue-bottleonthewindow-sill.
“Nothingthere!”saidPeter,andtheyalltroopedoutagain-allexceptLucy.Shestayedbehindbecauseshethoughtitwouldbeworthwhiletryingthedoorofthewardrobe,eventhoughshefeltalmostsurethatitwouldbelocked.Tohersurpriseitopenedquiteeasily,andtwomoth-ballsdroppedout.
Lookingintotheinside,shesawseveralcoatshangingup-mostlylongfurcoats.TherewasnothingLucylikedsomuchasthesmellandfeeloffur.Sheimmediatelysteppedintothewardrobeandgotinamongthecoatsandrubbedherfaceagainstthem,leavingthedooropen,ofcourse,becausesheknewthatitisveryfoolishtoshutoneselfintoanywardrobe.Soonshewentfurtherinandfoundthattherewasasecondrowofcoatshangingupbehindthefirstone.Itwasalmostquitedarkinthereandshekeptherarmsstretchedoutinfrontofhersoasnottobumpherfaceintothebackofthewardrobe.Shetookastepfurtherin-thentwoorthreesteps—alwaysexpectingtofeelwoodworkagainstthetipsofherfingers.Butshecouldnotfeelit.
“Thismustbeasimplyenormouswardrobe!”thoughtLucy,goingstillfurtherinandpushingthesoftfoldsofthecoatsasidetomakeroomforher.Thenshenoticedthattherewassomethingcrunchingunderherfeet.“Iwonderisthatmoremothballs?”shethought,stoopingdowntofeelitwithherhand.Butinsteadoffeelingthehard,smoothwoodofthefloorofthewardrobe,shefeltsomethingsoftandpowderyandextremelycold.“Thisisveryqueer,”shesaid,andwentonasteportwofurther.
Nextmomentshefoundthatwhatwasrubbingagainstherfaceandhandswasnolongersoftfurbutsomethinghardandroughandevenprickly.“Why,itisjustlikebranchesoftrees!”exclaimedLucy.Andthenshesawthattherewasalightaheadofher;notafewinchesawaywherethebackofthewardrobeoughttohavebeen,butalongwayoff.Somethingcoldandsoftwasfallingonher.Amomentlatershefoundthatshewasstandinginthemiddleofawoodatnight-timewithsnowunderherfeetandsnowflakesfallingthroughtheair.
Lucyfeltalittlefrightened,butshefeltveryinquisitiveandexcitedaswell.Shelookedbackoverhershoulderandthere,betweenthedarktree—trunks;shecouldstillseetheopendoorwayofthewardrobeandevencatchaglimpseoftheemptyroomfromwhichshehadsetout.(Shehad,ofcourse,leftthedooropen,forsheknewthatitisaverysillythingtoshutoneselfintoawardrobe.)Itseemedtobestilldaylightthere.“Icanalwaysgetbackifanythinggoeswrong,”thoughtLucy.Shebegantowalkforward,crunch-crunchoverthesnowandthroughthewoodtowardstheotherlight.Inabouttenminutesshereacheditandfounditwasalamp-post.Asshestoodlookingatit,wonderingwhytherewasalamp-postinthemiddleofawoodandwonderingwhattodonext,sheheardapitterpatteroffeetcomingtowardsher.Andsoonafterthataverystrangepersonsteppedoutfromamongthetreesintothelightofthelamp-post.
HewasonlyalittletallerthanLucyherselfandhecarriedoverhisheadanumbrella,whitewithsnow.Fromthewaistupwardshewaslikeaman,buthislegswereshapedlikeagoat’s(thehaironthemwasglossyblack)andinsteadoffeethehadgoat’shoofs.Healsohadatail,butLucydidnotnoticethisatfirstbecauseitwasneatlycaughtupoverthearmthatheldtheumbrellasoastokeepitfromtrailinginthesnow.Hehadaredwoollenmufflerroundhisneckandhisskinwasratherreddishtoo.Hehadastrange,butpleasantlittleface,withashortpointedbeardandcurlyhair,andoutofthehairtherestucktwohorns,oneoneachsideofhisforehead.Oneofhishands,asIhavesaid,heldtheumbrella:intheotherarmhecarriedseveralbrown-paperparcels.WhatwiththeparcelsandthesnowitlookedjustasifhehadbeendoinghisChristmasshopping.HewasaFaun.AndwhenhesawLucyhegavesuchastartofsurprisethathedroppedallhisparcels.
“Goodnessgraciousme!”exclaimedtheFaun.
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