'Who pinched the click off of the old bloke in Aldermanbury ?' it added, in a changed tone.
'Who sneaked the nose-rag out of the young gell's 'and in Bell Court?
Who--' 'Stow it,' said Ike.

'You! ugh! yah!--leave go of me.

Bash him off, Urb; 'e'll have my bloomin' eyes outer my ed.' There were howls, a scuffle, a flutter; Ike and Urb fled up the stairs, and the Phoenix swept out through the doorway.

The children followed and the Phoenix settled on Robert, 'like a butterfly on a rose,' as Anthea said afterwards, and wriggled into the breast of his Norfolk jacket, 'like an eel into mud,' as Cyril later said.
'Why ever didn't you burn him?
You could have, couldn't you ?' asked Robert, when the hurried flight through the narrow courts had ended in the safe wideness of Farringdon Street.
'I could have, of course,' said the bird, 'but I didn't think it would be dignified to allow myself to get warm about a little thing like that.
The Fates, after all, have not been illiberal to me.

I have a good many friends among the London sparrows, and I have a beak and claws.' These happenings had somewhat shaken the adventurous temper of the children, and the Phoenix had to exert its golden self to hearten them up.
Presently the children came to a great house in Lombard Street, and there, on each side of the door, was the image of the Phoenix carved in stone, and set forth on shining brass were the words-- PHOENIX FIRE OFFICE 'One moment,' said the bird.