| The Psammead | Frontispiece |
| That First Glorious Rush Round the Garden | Facing page | 2 |
| Cyril Had Nipped His Finger in the Door of a Hutch | "" | 4 |
| Anthea Suddenly Screamed, "It's Alive!" | "" | 12 |
| The Baby Did Not Know Them! | "" | 28 |
| Martha Emptied a Toilet-jug of Cold Water Over Him | "" | 32 |
| The Rain Fell in Slow Drops on to Anthea's Face | "" | 36 |
| He Staggered, and Had to Sit Down Again in a Hurry | "" | 50 |
| Mr. Beale Snatched the Coin, Bit It, and Put It in His Pocket | "" | 58 |
| They Had Run Into Martha and the Baby | "" | 63 |
| He Said, "Now Then!" to the Policeman and Mr. Peasemarsh | "" | 66 |
| The Lucky Children Hurriedly Started for the Gravel Pit | "" | 78 |
| "Poof, poof, poofy," He Said, and Made a Grab | "" | 86 |
| At Double-quick Time Ran the Twinkling Legs of the Lamb's Brothers and Sisters | "" | 88 |
| The Next Minute the Two Were Fighting | "" | 90 |
| He Snatched the Baby from Anthea | "" | 94 |
| He Consented to Let the Two Gypsy Women Feed Him | "" | 98 |
| The Sand-fairy Blew Himself Out | "" | 122 |
| They Flew Over Rochester | "" | 126 |
| The Farmer Sat Down on the Grass, Suddenly and Heavily | "" | 128 |
| Everyone Now Turned Out His Pockets | "" | 132 |
| These Were the Necessaries of Life | "" | 134 |
| The Children Were Fast Asleep | "" | 138 |
| The Keeper Spoke Deep-Chested Words through the Keyhole | "" | 150 |
| There the Castle Stood, Black and Stately | "" | 164 |
| Robert Was Dragged Forthwith—by the Reluctant Ear | "" | 166 |
| He Wiped Away a Manly Tear | "" | 168 |
| "Oh, Do, Do, Do, Do!" Said Robert | "" | 174 |
| The Man Fell with a Splash Into the Moat-water | "" | 196 |
| Anthea Tilted the Pot over the Nearest Leadhole | "" | 198 |
| He Pulled Robert's Hair | "" | 210 |
| "The Sammyadd's Done Us Again," Said Cyril | "" | 214 |
| He Lifted Up the Baker's Boy and Set Him on Top of the Haystack | "" | 216 |
| It Was a Strange Sensation Being Wheeled in a Pony-carriage by a Giant | "" | 220 |
| When the Girl Came Out She Was Pale and Trembling | "" | 228 |
| "When Your Time's Up Come to Me" | "" | 230 |
| He Opened the Case and Used the Whole Thing as a Garden Spade | "" | 238 |
| She Did It Gently by Tickling His Nose with a Twig of Honeysuckle | "" | 244 |
| There, Sure Enough, Stood a Bicycle | "" | 248 |
| The Punctured State of It Was Soon Evident | "" | 250 |
| The Grown-up Lamb Struggled | "" | 258 |
| She Broke Open the Missionary Box with the Poker | "" | 266 |
| "Ye Seek a Pow-wow?" He Said | "" | 278 |
| Bright Knives Were Being Brandished All about Them | "" | 284 |
| She Was Clasped in Eight Loving Arms | "" | 294 |
| "We Found a Fairy," Said Jane, Obediently | "" | 298 |
| It Burrowed, and Disappeared, Scratching Fiercely to the Last | "" | 308 |
