So saying, he produced a copy-book with a marbled cover, and showed me that it was about half-full of writing in large text.
"If you wrote all that yourself, I should think you might write more."
"Oh, but I am so tired of it, and besides, this is such a very hot day."
"I know that, and to have you leaning on my knee makes me no cooler; but I have something for you to do just now, which I think you will like."
"Oh, what is it, sister? May we both do it?"
"Yes, if you like. You may go into the field to gardener, and ask him to get me a water-lily out of the stream; I want one to finish my sketch with."
"You really do want one? you are not pretending, just to give us something to do?"
"No, I really want one; you see these in the glass begin to wither."'
"Make haste then, Hatty. Sister, you shall have the very best lily we can find."
Thereupon they ran off, leaving me to inspect the diary. Its first page was garnished with the resemblance of a large swan with curly wings; from his beak proceeded the owner's name in full, and underneath were his lucubrations. The first few pages ran as follows: