“Father, will you be good enough to let us have one of your lights?”
“There,” said his father. “I thought that you would come pretty soon and interrupt me.”
“But, father,” said Rollo, “we can’t see without a light.”
“No,” said his father; “that is true, no doubt; but it does not make it any the less an interruption to me for you to come and ask me for one.”
“Well, but, father,” said Rollo, moving back slowly, and speaking in a disappointed tone, “then I don’t see what we shall do.”
“I thought you had a light yourselves, by your book-case.”
“O yes,” said Lucy, “so we did. I’ll run and get it, Rollo.”
So Lucy jumped up, and ran off after the light, while Rollo went to get the great picture-book.
What Rollo called the great picture-book was a very large and heavy volume, in his father’s library, which contained a great many large and beautiful pictures. His father never allowed him to carry it out of the room, but sometimes let him put it in a chair, and turn over the leaves very carefully, to see the pictures. Rollo took this book down, which he accomplished without much difficulty; for it was on the lower part of the book-case, not very far from the floor. He carried it to the little table, and pretty soon after Lucy came in with a light.
But here an unexpected difficulty occurred. The book was so large that, when it was opened, it covered the whole top of the table, and so there was no room for the lamp.