The day before had been Eunice’s birthday, and this Kodak, which had been a long-desired possession, was a birthday present. As it was given to them entirely ready for use, they had literally nothing to do but “press the button.”
Papa had been too busy that morning to explain the mysterious little affair very particularly, but he told the children to study the pamphlet carefully, and follow directions closely. Eunice and Cricket promptly sat down and read the pamphlet from title-page to finis.
Both looked a little blank when they had finished. Could they ever remember all those instructions?
“It’s all plain enough,” said Eunice meditatively, “but the question is, how are we going to remember it all at important times? Now, for instance, about the stops. Listen: ‘Snapshots can only be made when the largest stop is in the lens.’ Will you remember that, Cricket?”
“We might just sit down and learn the whole thing off by heart,” suggested Cricket, wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully.
“Horrors, no!” returned Eunice. “Learn all that? Let’s just carry the pamphlet around with us all the time. If we take the camera anywhere, we can certainly take the book, too. Now let’s go and take a picture.”
“It’s easier to take them out doors, everybody says,” answered Cricket, jumping up. “There’s ’Liza starting out to walk with the twins. Let’s go and take them sitting on the front doorsteps.”
The twins, of course, were perfectly delighted at the idea of having their pictures taken. Zaidie straightway sat herself down on the lowest step, with her hands firmly folded in her lap, and her feet out straight before her, trying vainly to keep the smile out of her dimpled face.
“I don’t want you that way,” said Eunice, laughing, as she turned around. “You must get in some romantic attitude. No, I don’t mean romantic, but picturesque.”
“Couldn’t I be sliding down the railing?” suggested Zaidie eagerly, thinking she saw a chance to indulge in her favourite amusement. “Wouldn’t that be pick-chesk?”