“Yes; that is, you may take anything that you find printed in any book in the library. Now, go on, and when you have learned them, I will hear you recite them.”
The three culprits walked slowly away to their punishment, and Miss Larkin felt satisfied that she had at least quelled their boisterous spirits for a time.
She turned to her own occupations, and was soon lost in the pleasant flutter of arranging her elaborate dinner-table.
The three in the library stared at the book-shelves.
“Ten lines!” muttered King. “I’m going to pick out something with short lines, I can tell you.”
“I wish she hadn’t said ‘printed,’ ” said Marjorie; “then I’d learn some of the poems Mother and Father write us in letters. That would be fun.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Kitty. “Let’s learn things out of our scrap-book. Don’t you know, the one Mother made, and pasted in verses cut out of the papers and magazines.”
“That’s so!” cried King. “They’re printed, sure enough; and a lot more fun than these Tennysons and Longfellows sitting up here on the shelves.”
Kitty brought the scrap-book, and the three sat down on the floor to look it over. It was a jolly book, filled with pictures and jingles, and they became so interested in reading it, that they almost forgot they were being punished.
“Well, I s’pose we must each pick out one to learn,” said King, at last. “I guess I’ll take this ‘Two Old Kings.’ It has a lot more’n ten lines, but I don’t care; they’re short ones.”