The four children acquired the magic carpet when they found a special fire egg – it hatched in their nursery fireplace. The phoenix came from the egg, and when he saw their mother’s new Persian rug, he showed them that it was a magical thing – a flying carpet that would take them any time and that place they could wish for. Witty, genuine, full of timeless sympathy and childish sensibility, The Phoenix and the Carpet offers a special ride through wonders for children of all ages.
It began with the day when it was almost the Fifth of November, and a doubt arose in some breast—Robert’s, I fancy—as to the quality of the fireworks laid in for the Guy Fawkes celebration. ‘They were jolly cheap,’ said whoever it was, and I think it was Robert, ‘and suppose they didn’t go off on the night? Those Prosser kids would have something to snigger about then.’ ‘The ones I got are all right,’ Jane said; ‘I know they are, because the man at the shop said they were worth thribble the money—’
