 This is Carbon Mike. You're listening to the first episode in a new podcast series that we call Good Words, where some of us from the Foundationist Society read from works of literature that we love. In this session, Abigail Anzworth and myself read three excerpts from The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. We hope you enjoy hearing it as much as we enjoyed reading it together. Chapter 1 Lucy Looks Into a Wardrobe Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. This story is about something that happened to them when they were sent away from London during the war because of the air raids. They were sent to the house of an old professor who lived in the heart of the country ten miles from the nearest railway station and two miles from the nearest post office. He had no wife and he lived in a very large house with a housekeeper called Mrs. McCready and three servants. Their names were Ivy, Margaret, and Betty, but they did not come into the story much. He himself was a very old man with shaggy white hair, which grew over most of his face as well as on his head, and they liked him almost at once. But on the first evening when he came out to meet them at the front door, he was so odd-looking that Lucy, who was the youngest, was a little afraid of him and Edmund, who was the next youngest, wanted to laugh and had to keep on pretending he was blowing his nose to hide it. As soon as they had said good night to the professor and gone upstairs on the first night, the boys came into the girl's room and they all talked it over. We've fallen on our feet and no mistake, said Peter. This is going to be perfectly splendid. That old chow will let us do anything we like. I think he's an old deer. Said Susan. Oh, come off it! Said Edmund, who was tired and pretending not to be tired, which always made him bad tempered. Don't go on talking like that. Like what? Said Susan. And anyway, it's time you were in bed. Trying to talk like mother. Said Edmund. And who are you to say when I'm to go to bed? Go to bed yourself. How did we all better go to bed? Said Lucy. There's sure to be a row if we're her talking here. No, there won't. Said Peter. I tell you, this is the sort of house where no one's going to mind what we do. Anyway, they won't hear us. It's about ten minutes walk from here down to that dining room and any amount of stairs and passages in between. What's that noise? Said Lucy suddenly. It was a far larger house than she had ever been in before. And the thought of all those long passages and rows of doors leading into empty rooms was beginning to make her feel a little creepy. It's only a bird, silly. Said Edmund. It's an owl. Said Peter. This is going to be a wonderful place for birds. I shall go to bed now. I say, let's go and explore tomorrow. You might find anything in a place like this. Did you see those mountains as we came along? And the woods. There might be eagles. There might be stags. There'll be hawks. Badgers. Said Lucy. Foxes. Said Edmund. Rabbits. Said Susan. But when the next morning came, there was a steady rain falling. I think that when you looked out of the window, you could see neither the mountains nor the woods nor even the stream in the garden. Of course it would be raining. Said Edmund. They had just finished their breakfast with the professor and were upstairs in the room he had set apart for them. A long, low room with two windows looking out in one direction and two in another. Do stop grumbling, Ed. Said Susan. Ten to one it'll clear up in an hour or so and in the meantime we're pretty well off. There's a wireless and lots of books. Not for me. Said Peter. I'm going to explore in the house. Everyone agreed to this and that was how the adventures began. It was a sort of house that you never seemed to come to the end of and it was full of unexpected places. The first few doors they tried led only into spare bedrooms as everyone had expected that they would. But soon they came to a very long room full of pictures and there they found a suit of armor. And after that was a room all hung with green with a harp in one corner. And then came three steps down and five steps up and then a kind of little upstairs hall and a door that led out onto a balcony. And then a whole series of rooms that led into each other and were lined with books. Most of them very old books and some bigger than a Bible in a church. And shortly after that they looked into a room that was quite empty except for one big wardrobe. The sort that has a looking glass in the door. There was nothing else in the room at all except a dead blue bottle on the windowsill. Nothing there. Said Peter and they all trooped out again. All except Lucy. She stayed behind because she thought it would be worthwhile trying the door of the wardrobe even though she felt almost sure that it would be locked. To her surprise it opened quite easily and two mothballs dropped out. Looking into the inside she saw several coats hanging up mostly long fur coats. There was nothing Lucy liked so much as the smell and feel of fur. She immediately stepped into the wardrobe and got in among the coats and rubbed her face against them. Leaving the door open of course because she knew that it is very foolish to shut oneself into any wardrobe. Soon she went further in and found there was a second row of coats hanging up behind the first one. It was almost quite dark in there and she kept her arm stretched out in front of her so as not to bump her face into the back of the wardrobe. She took a step further in then two or three steps always expecting to feel woodwork against the tips of her fingers but she could not feel it. This must be a simply enormous wardrobe. Thought Lucy going still further in and pushing the soft folds of the coats aside to make room for her. Then she noticed that there was something crunching under her feet. I wonder is that more mothballs. She thought stooping down to feel it with her hand. But instead of feeling the hard smooth wood of the floor of the wardrobe she felt something soft and powdery and extremely cold. This is very queer. She said and went on a step or two further. Next moment she found that what was rubbing against her face and hands was no longer soft fur but something hard and rough and even prickly. Why it is just like the branches of trees exclaimed Lucy and then she saw that there was a light ahead of her. Not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been but a long way off something cold and soft was falling on her. A moment later she found that she was standing in the middle of a wood at night time with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air. Lucy felt a little frightened but she felt very inquisitive and excited as well. She looked back over her shoulder and there between the dark tree trunks she could still see the open doorway of the wardrobe and even catch a glimpse of the empty room from which she had set out. She had of course left the door open for she knew that it is a very silly thing to shut oneself into a wardrobe. It seemed to be still daylight there. I can always go back if anything goes wrong thought Lucy. She began to walk forward crunch crunch over the snow and through the wood towards that other light. In about 10 minutes she reached it and found that it was a lamppost. As she stood looking at it wondering why there was a lamppost in the middle of a wood and wondering what to do next. She heard a pitter-patter of feet coming towards her and soon after that of every strange person stepped out from among the trees into the light of the lamppost. He was only a little taller than Lucy herself and he carried over his head an umbrella white with snow. From the waist upwards he was like a man but his legs were shaped like a goats the hair on them was glossy black and instead of feet he had goats hooves. He also had a tail but Lucy did not notice this at first because it was neatly caught up over the arm that held the umbrella so as to keep it from trailing in the snow. He had a red woolen muffler around his neck and his skin was rather reddish too. He had a strange but pleasant little face with a short pointed beard and curly hair and out of the hair there stuck two horns one on each side of his forehead. One of his hands as I have said held the umbrella in the other arm he carried several brown paper parcels. What with the parcels and the snow it looked just as if he had been doing his Christmas shopping. He was a fawn and when he saw Lucy he gave such a start of surprise that he dropped all his parcels. Goodness gracious me exclaimed the fawn chapter two what Lucy found there. Good evening said Lucy. But the fawn was so busy picking up its parcels that at first it did not reply. When it had finished it made her a little bow. Good evening good evening said the fawn. Excuse me I don't want to be inquisitive but should I be right in thinking that you are a daughter of Eve. My name's Lucy said she not quite understanding him. But you are forgive me you are what they call a girl said the fawn of course I'm a girl said Lucy. You are in fact human course I'm human said Lucy still a little puzzled to be sure to be sure said the fawn how stupid of me. I've never seen a son of Adam or a daughter of Eve before I am delighted that is to say. And then it stopped as if it had been going to say something it had not intended but had remembered in time. Delighted delighted it went on allow me to introduce myself my name is Tumnus. I'm very pleased to meet you Mr. Tumnus said Lucy. And may I ask a Lucy daughter of Eve said Mr. Tumnus how you have come into Narnia. What's that said Lucy. This is the land of Narnia said the fawn where we are now all that lies between the lamp post and the great castle of care Paravelle on the eastern sea. And you you have come from the Wild Woods of the West. I I got in through the wardrobe in the spare room said Lucy. Ah said Mr. Tumnus in a rather melancholy voice. If only I had worked harder at geography when I was a little fawn. I should no doubt know all about those strange countries. It is too late now. But they are countries at all said Lucy almost laughing. It's only just back there. At least I'm not sure it is summer there. Meanwhile said Mr. Tumnus it is winter in Narnia and has been forever so long. And we shall both catch cold if we stand here talking in the snow. Daughter of Eve from the far land of spare room where eternal summer rains around the bright city of wardrobe. How would it be if you came and had tea with me. Thank you very much Mr. Tumnus said Lucy. But I was wondering whether I ought to be getting back. It's only just around the corner. Said the fawn. And there'll be a roaring fire and toast and sardines and cake. Well it's very kind of you said Lucy. But I shall be able to stay long. If you will take my arm daughter of Eve said Mr. Tumnus. I shall be able to hold the umbrella over both of us. That's the way. Now off we go. And so Lucy found herself walking through the wood arm in arm with this strange creature as if they had known one another all their lives. They had not gone far before they came to a place where the ground became rough and there were rocks all about and little hills up and little hills down. At the bottom of one small valley Mr. Tumnus turned suddenly aside as if he were going to walk straight into an unusually large rock. But at the last moment Lucy found he was leading her into the entrance of a cave. As soon as they were inside she found herself blinking in the light of a wood fire. Then Mr. Tumnus stooped and took a flaming piece of wood out of the fire with a neat little pair of tongs and lit a lamp. Now we shan't be long. He said and immediately put a kettle on. Lucy thought she had never been in a nicer place. It was a little dry clean cave of reddish stone with a carpet on the floor and two little chairs. One for me and one for a friend said Mr. Tumnus and a table and a dresser and a mantelpiece over the fire. And above that a picture of an old fawn with a gray beard. In one corner there was a door which Lucy thought must lead to Mr. Tumnus' bedroom and on one wall was a shelf full of books. Lucy looked at these while he was setting out the tea things. They had titles like The Life and Letters of Silenus or Nymphs and Their Ways or Men, Monks, and Gamekeepers. A study in popular legend or Is Man a Myth? Now, Daughter of Eve said the fawn. And really it was a wonderful tea. There was a nice brown egg lightly boiled for each of them. And then sardines on toast and then buttered toast and then toast with honey and then a sugar topped cake. And when Lucy was tired of eating the fawn began to talk. He had wonderful tales to tell of life in the forest. He told about the midnight dances and how the nymphs who lived in the wells and the dryads who lived in the trees came out to dance with the fawns. About long hunting parties after the milk-white stag who could give you wishes if you caught him. About feasting and treasure-seeking with the wild red dwarfs in deep mines and caverns far beneath the forest floor. And then about summer when the woods were green and old Silenus on his fat donkey would come to visit them. And sometimes back us himself and then the streams would run with wine instead of water. And the whole forest would give itself up to jollification for weeks on end. Not that it isn't always winter now. He added gloomily. Then to cheer himself up he took out from its case on the dresser a strange little flute that looked as if it were made of straw and began to play. And the tune he played made Lucy want to cry and laugh and dance and go to sleep all at the same time. It must have been hours later when she shook herself and said, Oh, Mr. Tumnus, I'm so sorry to stop you and I do love that tune, but really I must go home now. I only meant to stay for a few minutes. It's no good now, you know. Said the fawn, laying down its flute and shaking its head at her very sorrowfully. No good. Said Lucy, jumping up and feeling rather frightened. What do you mean? I've got to go home at once. The others will be wondering what has happened to me. But a moment later she asked, Mr. Tumnus, whatever is the matter? For the fawn's brown eyes had filled with tears and then the tears began trickling down its cheeks and soon they were running off the end of its nose. And at last it covered its face with its hands and began to howl. Mr. Tumnus, Mr. Tumnus! Said Lucy in great distress. Don't! Don't! What is the matter? Aren't you well? Dear Mr. Tumnus, do tell me what is wrong. But the fawn continued sobbing as if his heart would break. And even when Lucy went over and put her arms around him and lent him her handkerchief, he did not stop. He merely took the handkerchief and kept on using it, ringing it out with both hands whenever it got too wet to be any more use, so that presently Lucy was standing in a damp patch. Mr. Tumnus! Balled Lucy in his ear, shaking him. Do stop! Stop it at once! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a great big fawn like you. What on earth are you crying about? Oh, oh, oh. Sobbed Mr. Tumnus. I'm crying because I'm such a bad fawn. I don't think you're a bad fawn at all. Said Lucy. I think you are a very good fawn. You are the nicest fawn I've ever met. Oh, oh. You wouldn't say that if you knew. Replied Mr. Tumnus between his sobs. No, I'm a bad fawn. I don't suppose there ever was a worse fawn since the beginning of the world. But what have you done? Asked Lucy. My old father now. Said Mr. Tumnus. A picture over the mantelpiece. He would never have done a thing like this. A thing like what? Said Lucy. Like what I've done? Said the fawn. Taken service under the white witch. That's what I am. I'm in the pay of the white witch. The white witch? Who is she? Why? It is she that has got all narnia under her thumb. She that makes it always winter. Always winter and never Christmas. Think of that. How awful! Said Lucy. But what does she pay you for? That's the worst of it. Said Mr. Tumnus with a deep groan. I'm a kidnapper for her. That's what I am. Look at me, daughter of Eve. Would you believe that I'm the sort of fawn to meet a poor innocent child in the wood? One that had never done me any harm and pretend to be friendly with it and invite it home to my cave? All for the sake of lolling it asleep and then handing it over to the white witch? No. Said Lucy. I'm not sure you wouldn't do anything of the sort. But I have. Said the fawn. Well? Said Lucy rather slowly for she wanted to be truthful and yet not be too hard on him. Well, that was pretty bad. But you're so sorry for it. I'm sure you will never do it again. Daughter of Eve. Don't you understand? Said the fawn. That's something I have done. I'm doing it now, this very moment. What do you mean? Cried Lucy, turning very white. You are the child. Said Tomnas. I had orders from the white witch that if I ever saw a son of Adam or a daughter of Eve in the wood I was to catch them and hand them over to her. And you were the first I've ever met. And I pretended to be your friend and asked you to tea. And all the time I've been meaning to wait till you were asleep and then go and tell her. Oh, but you won't, Mr. Tomnas. Said Lucy. You won't, will you? Indeed, indeed you really mustn't. And if I don't Said he, beginning to cry again. She's sure to find out and she'll have my tail cut off and my horn sawn off and my beard plucked out and she'll wave her wand over my beautiful clove hooves and turn them into horrid solid hooves like wretched horses. And if she is extra and specially angry she'll turn me into stone and I shall be only a statue of a fawn in her horrible house until the four thrones at Care Paravella are filled and goodness knows when that will happen or whether it will even happen at all. I'm very sorry, Mr. Tomnas. Said Lucy. But please let me go home. Of course I will. Said the fawn. Of course, I've got to. I see that now. I hadn't known what humans were like before I met you. Of course, I can't give you up to the witch. Not now that I know you. But we must be off at once. I'll see you back to the lamppost. I suppose you can find your own way from there back to spare Oom and Wardrobe. I'm sure I can. Said Lucy. We must go as quietly as we can. Said Mr. Tomnas. The whole wood is full of her spies even some of the trees are on her side. They both got up and left the tea things on the table and Mr. Tomnas once more put up his umbrella and gave Lucy his arm and they went out into the snow. The journey back was not at all like the journey to the fawn's cave. They stole along as quickly as they could without speaking a word and Mr. Tomnas kept to the darkest places. Lucy was relieved when they reached the lamppost again. Do you know your way from here, Daughter of Eve? Said Mr. Tomnas. Lucy looked very hard between the trees and could just see in the distance a patch of light that looked like daylight. Yes, she said. I can see the Wardrobe door. Then be off home as quick as you can. Said the fawn. And can you ever forgive me for what I meant to do? Why, of course I can. Said Lucy, shaking him heartily by the hand. And I do hope you won't get into dreadful trouble on my account. Farewell, Daughter of Eve. Said he. Perhaps I may keep the handkerchief. Rather. Said Lucy and then ran towards the far-off patch of daylight as quickly as her legs would carry her. And presently, instead of rough branches brushing past her, she felt coats. And instead of crunching snow under her feet, she felt wooden boards. And all at once she found herself jumping out of the Wardrobe into the same empty room from which the whole adventure had started. She shut the Wardrobe door tightly behind her and looked around, panting for breath. It was still raining and she could hear the voices of the others in the passage. I'm here. She shouted. I'm here. I've come back. I'm all right. In the third and final excerpt, we skip ahead to chapter ten of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. The events in this section take place after Lucy's siblings have also found their way into the land of Narnia being guided in their quest by a family of beavers and the dark magic that has kept the whole world in the grip of a cruel and fearsome winter has finally begun to lose its power. From chapter ten, the spell begins to break. The snow had stopped and the moon had come out when they began their journey. They all went in single file. First Mr. Beaver, then Lucy, then Peter, then Susan, and Mrs. Beaver, last of all. Mr. Beaver led them across the dam and on to the right bank of the river and then along a very rough sort of path among the trees, right down by the river bank. The sides of the valley, shining in the moonlight, towered up far above them on either side. Best keep down here as much as possible. He said. She'll have to keep to the top or you couldn't bring a sledge down here. It would have been a pretty enough scene to look at it through a window from a comfortable armchair and even as things were, Lucy enjoyed it at first. But as they went on walking and walking and walking and as the sack she was carrying felt heavier and heavier, she began to wonder how she was going to keep up at all and she stopped looking at the dazzling brightness of the frozen river with all its waterfalls of ice and at the white masses of the treetops and the great glaring moon and the countless stars and could only watch the little short legs of Mr. Beaver going pad, pad, pad, pad through the snow in front of her as if they were never going to stop. Then the moon disappeared and the snow began to fall once more and at last Lucy was so tired she was almost asleep and walking at the same time when suddenly she found that Mr. Beaver had turned away from the riverbank to the right and was leading them steeply uphill into the very thickest bushes and then as she came fully awake she found that Mr. Beaver was just vanishing into a little hole in the bank which had been almost hidden under the bushes until you were quite on top of it. In fact, by the time she realized what was happening only his short flat tail was showing. Lucy immediately stooped down and crawled in after him. Then she heard noises of scrambling and puffing and panting behind her and in a moment all five of them were inside. Wherever is this? said Peter's voice sounding tired and pale in the darkness. I hope you know what I mean by a voice sounding pale. It's an old hiding place for beavers in bad times. said Mr. Beaver. And a great secret. It's not much of a place but we must get a few hours sleep. If you hadn't all been in such a plagued fuss when we were starting I'd have brought some pillows. said Mrs. Beaver. It wasn't nearly such a nice cave as Mr. Tumnus's Lucy thought just a hole in the ground but dry and earthy. It was very small so that when they all lay down they were all a bundle of clothes together and what with that and being warmed up by their long walk they were really rather snug. If only the floor of the cave had been a little smoother. Then Mrs. Beaver handed around in the dark a little flask out of which everyone drank something. It made one cough and splutter a little and stung the throat but it also made you feel deliciously warm after you'd swallowed and everyone went straight to sleep. It seemed to Lucy only the next minute though really it was hours and hours later when she woke up feeling a little cold and dreadfully stiff and thinking how she would like a hot bath. Then she felt a set of long whiskers tickling her cheek and saw the cold daylight coming in through the mouth of the cave. But immediately after that she was very wide awake indeed and so was everyone else. In fact they were all sitting up with their mouths and eyes wide open listening to a sound which was the very sound they'd all been thinking of and sometimes imagining they heard during their walk last night. It was a sound of jingling bells. Mr. Beaver was out of the cave like a flash the moment he heard it. Perhaps you think as Lucy thought for a moment that this was a very silly thing to do but it was really a very sensible one. He knew he could scramble to the top of the bank among bushes and brambles without being seen and he wanted above all things to see which way the witches sledge went. The others all sat in the cave waiting and wondering. They waited nearly five minutes. Then they heard something that frightened them very much. They heard voices. Oh! fought Lucy. He's been seen. She's caught him. Great was their surprise when a little later they heard Mr. Beaver's voice calling to them from just outside the cave. It's alright. He was shouting. Come out Mrs. Beaver. Come out sons and daughters of Adam. It's alright. It isn't her. This was bad grammar of course but that is how Beavers talk when they are excited. I mean in Narnia. In our world they usually don't talk at all. So Mrs. Beaver and the children came bundling out of the cave all blinking in the daylight with earth all over them and looking very frousty and unbrushed and uncombed and with the sleep still in their eyes. Come on. cried Mr. Beaver who was almost dancing with delight. Come and see. This is a nasty knock for the witch. It looks as if her power is already crumbling. What do you mean Mr. Beaver? Panted Peter as they all scrambled up the steep bank of the valley together. Didn't I tell you? Answered Mr. Beaver. That she'd made it always winter and never Christmas. Didn't I tell you? Well just come and see. And then they were all at the top and did see. It was a sledge and it was reindeer with bells on their harnesses but they were far bigger than the witch's reindeer and they were not white but brown. And on the sledge sat a person whom everyone knew the moment they set eyes on him. He was a huge man in a bright red robe bright as holly berries with a hood that had fur inside it and a great white beard that fell like a foamy waterfall over his chest. Everyone knew him because though you see people of his sort only in Narnia you see pictures of them and hear them talked about even in our world the world on this side of the wardrobe door. But when you really see them in Narnia it is rather different. Some of the pictures of Father Christmas in our world make him look only funny and jolly. But now that the children actually stood looking at him they didn't find it quite like that. He was so big and so glad and so real. They all became quite still. They felt very glad but also solemn. I've come at last said he. She has kept me out for a long time but I have got in at last. Aslan is on the move. The witch's magic is weakening and Lucy felt running through her that deep shiver of gladness which you only get if you are being solemn and still. And now said Father Christmas for your presence there is a new and better sewing machine for you Mrs Beaver. I will drop it in your house as I pass. If you please sir. Said Mrs Beaver making a curtsy. It's locked up. Locks and bolts make no difference to me. Said Father Christmas. And as for you Mr Beaver when you get home you will find your damn finished and mended and all the leaks stopped and a new sluice gate fitted. Mr Beaver was so pleased that he opened his mouth very wide and then found he couldn't say anything at all. Peter Adam's son said Father Christmas. Hey sir. Said Peter. These are your presents. Was the answer. And they are tools not toys. The time to use them is perhaps near at hand. Bear them well. With these words he handed to Peter a shield and a sword. The shield was the color of silver and across it there ramped a red lion as bright as a ripe strawberry at the moment when you pick it. The hilt of the sword was of gold and it had a sheath and a sword belt and everything it needed and it was just the right size and weight for Peter to use. Peter was silent and solemn as he received these gifts for he felt they were a very serious kind of present. Susan Eve's daughter said Father Christmas. These are for you. And he handed her a bow and a quiver full of arrows and a little ivory horn. You must use the bow only in great need, he said, for I do not mean you to fight in the battle. It does not easily miss. And when you put this horn to your lips and blow it, then, wherever you are, I think help of some kind will come to you. Last of all, he said, Lucy, Eve's daughter, and Lucy came forward. He gave her a little bottle of what looked like glass, but people said afterwards that it was made of diamond and a small dagger. In this bottle, he said, there is a cordial made of the juice of one of the fire flowers that grow in the mountains of the sun. If you or any of your friends is hurt, a few drops of this will restore them. And the dagger is to defend yourself at great need, for you also are not to be in the battle. Why, sir? said Lucy. I think, I don't know, but I think I could be brave enough. That is not the point, he said, but battles are ugly when women fight. And now, here, he suddenly looked less grave. Here is something for the moment, for you all. And he brought out, I suppose, from the big bag at his back, but nobody quite saw him do it. A large tray containing five cups and saucers, a bowl of lump sugar, a jug of cream, and a great big teapot, all sizzling and piping hot. Then he cried out, Merry Christmas. Long live the true king. And cracked his whip, and he and the reindeer and the sledge and all were out of sight before anyone realized that they had started. Peter had just drawn his sword out of its sheath and was showing it to Mr. Beaver when Mrs. Beaver said, Now then, now then, don't stand talking there till the tea's got cold. Just like men. Come and help to carry the tray down, and we'll have breakfast. What a mercy, I thought, of bringing the bread knife. So down the steep bank they went and back to the cave had Mr. Beaver cut some of the bread and ham into sandwiches, and Mrs. Beaver poured out the tea and everyone enjoyed themselves. But long before they had finished enjoying themselves, Mr. Beaver said, Time to be moving on now.