"We would, of course," answered Cricket, superbly. "I'd love to do it."
"Write stories, and poems, and everything," urged Edna, aghast.
"Of course," repeated Cricket, undauntedly. "It's as easy as rolling off a log. That isn't slang, Eunice, and you needn't look at me. Rolling off a log is really very easy indeed." For Eunice, though her own language was not always above reproach, was very apt to play censor to her younger sister. "We'd just make them up ourselves."
"Make them up!" Unimaginative Edna opened her mouth and eyes wider. "I couldn't, to save my life!"
"Oh, you could. I've made up billions of stories," answered Cricket, hugging her knees, and talking earnestly.
"But how?" persisted Edna. "Oh, I couldn't! I wouldn't try!"
"I don't know exactly how," returned Cricket, considering. "Just make them up, that's all. Things come into your head all by themselves, somehow."
"It would be fun, Cricket," put in Eunice, who had been thinking over the project. "We could print the paper all out on foolscap."
"Would we each write our own story out?"
"We could if we wanted to. I thought we might take turns being editor, and printing everything out like a real paper. We might have one every week, and get subscribers," added Cricket, ambitiously.