"I'm afraid that I'll spoil the page.

You write it, Papa Jack." She put back the pen, and stood at his elbow while he wrote.
"Put down about all the steamah lettahs that we got," she suggested, "and the little Japanese stove Allison Walton sent me for my muff, and the books Rob sent.

Oh, yes! And the captain's name and how long the ship is, and how many tons of things to eat they have on board.

Mom Beck won't believe me when I tell her, unless I can show it to her in black and white." After they had explored the vessel together, her father was ready to settle down in his deck-chair in a sheltered corner, and read aloud or sleep.

But the Little Colonel grew tired of being wrapped like a mummy in her steamer rug.