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192 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1954
That summer, the children had found some books by a writer called E. Nesbit, surely the most wonderful books in all the world. They read every one that the library had, right away, except a book called The Enchanted Castle, which had been out.If you ever have to write an Acknowledgement yourself, you may want to use the one the Charm had written as a model; and I can hardly imagine an author who would not be proud and happy to hear that some other author had so admired their work.
And now yesterday The Enchanted Castle had come in, and they took it out, and Jane, because she could read fastest and loudest, read it loud all the way home, and when they got home she went on reading, and when their mother came home they hardly said a word to her, and when dinner was served they didn't notice a thing they ate.
It was fine weather, warm and blue-skied and full of possibilities, and the day began well, with a glint of something metal in a crack in the sidewalk. ‘Ooh, a lucky nickel!’ Jane said, and scooped it into her pocket with the rest of her allowance, still jingling there unspent.
It was the size of a nickel and the shape of a nickel and the colour of a nickel, but it wasn’t a nickel.
The summer was a fine thing, particularly when you were at the beginning of it, looking ahead into it. There would be months of beautifully long, empty days, and each other to play with, and the books from the library.