"A bit too thick? Yes," said Alice; "but of course we'd have all different names and addresses."
"We might as well do it thoroughly," said Dicky, "and send three or four different letters each."
"And have them posted in different parts of London. Right oh!" remarked Oswald.
"I shall write a piece of poetry for mine," said Noël.
"They ought all to be on different kinds of paper," said Oswald. "Let's go out and get the paper directly after tea."
We did, but we could only get fifteen different kinds of paper and envelopes, though we went to every shop in the village.
At the first shop, when we said, "Please we want a penn'orth of paper and envelopes of each of all the different kinds you keep," the lady of the shop looked at us thinly over blue-rimmed spectacles and said, "What for?"
And H.O. said, "To write unonymous letters."
"Anonymous letters are very wrong," the lady said, and she wouldn't sell us any paper at all.
But at the other places we did not say what it was for, and they sold it us. There were bluey and yellowy and grey and white kinds, and some was violetish with violets on it, and some pink, with roses. The girls took the florivorous ones, which Oswald thinks are unmanly for any but girls, but you excuse their using it. It seems natural to them to mess about like that.