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THE WAY TO BABYLON.
'How many miles to Babylon?
Three score and ten! Can I get there by candle light?
Yes, and back again!' Jane was singing to her doll, rocking it to and fro in the house which she had made for herself and it.

The roof of the house was the dining-table, and the walls were tablecloths and antimacassars hanging all round, and kept in their places by books laid on their top ends at the table edge.
The others were tasting the fearful joys of domestic tobogganing.

You know how it is done--with the largest and best tea-tray and the surface of the stair carpet.

It is best to do it on the days when the stair rods are being cleaned, and the carpet is only held by the nails at the top.
Of course, it is one of the five or six thoroughly tip-top games that grown-up people are so unjust to--and old Nurse, though a brick in many respects, was quite enough of a standard grown-up to put her foot down on the tobogganing long before any of the performers had had half enough of it.