"But, auntie, I can't help thinking. I do want that boat—oh, most dreadfully. I want it all through me—every bit of me. I want to go out this very minute."
Aunt Anne said nothing; and Hecla looked down at her slate.
"Four times five—" she murmured. "Auntie, why does a policeman wear a blue jacket?"
"You may ask me by-and-by, if you like. Not now."
Another pause. Hecla's pencil squeaked again.
"I wonder why slate-pencils make that noise, and other pencils don't."
Miss Anne was silent.
"Auntie, I really will!"
"I think you will be wise not to lose any more time."
Hecla sighed, and huddled herself in a bunch over the slate.