“You know,” said Tess, gravely, “it would be dreadful if one of them died and we didn’t know what to put on the headboard. It would be dreadful!”
“And what names shall we send Mrs. MacCall?” Dot wanted to know, when Tess had started the letter “Deare Missus Mcall” and was chewing the pencil as an aid to further thought.
“Let’s call them by seashore names,” suggested Tess. “Then they’ll remind us of the fun we had here at Pleasant Cove.”
“Oh-oo! Let’s,” agreed Dot.
“Well, now,” said Tess, promptly. “What will be the very first one? I’ll write Mrs. MacCall what we want,” and she proceeded to indite the following paragraph to begin the letter:
“We are having so much fun down here at plesent cove that we cant find time to come home and name Sandface’s babbies. But we want you and unc rufs to do it for us and we are going to send you the names we chose. They are——”
Here Tess’s laboring pencil came to a full stop. “Now, you got the first name, Dot?” she asked.
“I got two,” declared Dot, confidently.
“What are they!” queried Tess. “Now, we want them to be real salt-water names. Just like fishes’ names—or boats’ names—or like that.”
“I got two,” declared Dot, soberly. “Lots of men must be named those names about here. I hear them hollerin’ to each other when they are out in the boats.”