It's been done before." "Never," I rejoined, "in connection with you, poppa!" Poppa removed his hand from his chin.
"Oh, if I'm to assist, that's quite another anecdote," he said briskly.
"I didn't understand you intended to ring me in.

Of course, I don't mean to imply there is any special prejudice against books of travel in Europe.

About how many pages did you think of running it to ?" "My idea was three hundred," I replied.
"And how many words to a page ?" "Two hundred and fifty--more or less." "That's seventy-five thousand words! Pretty big undertaking, if you look at it in bulk." "We shall have to rely upon momma," I remarked.
Poppa's expression disparaged the idea, and he began to feel round for his beard.
"If I were you," he said, "I wouldn't place much dependence on momma.
She'll be able to give you a few hints on sunsets and a pointer or two about the various Venuses, likely--she's had photographs of several of them in the house for years--but I expect it's going to be a question of historical fact pretty often, and momma won't be in it.

Not that I want to choke momma off," he continued, "but she will necessitate a whole reference library.

And in some parts of Europe I believe they charge you for every pound of luggage, including your lunch, if you don't happen to have concealed it in your person." "We'll have to pin her down to the guide-books," I remarked.
"That depends.