Schillie.—"Yes, and get bitten to death with these horrid scorpions, or, look here, see how pleasant to put one's naked foot on these black ants."
Mother.—"Then it seems clear we must have boots and shoes."
Schillie.—"Of course, who doubted it?"
Mother.—"Then let us go and discover something that will somehow do for them."
Schillie.—"You always come round me in such a manner, that I begin to think if you told me to do so I should be creeping out of my skin some day."
Mother.—"Pray don't disturb yourself with that idea, as I rather want to clothe you than disrobe you. For our next discovery must be something of which to make dresses."
Schillie.—"Are you gone mad; who wants dresses, have we not enough to last us for a year at least?"
Mother.—"Yes, that I know, but I want to make the discovery, and get expert in the business before our own clothes are quite gone. It will be so awkward to have no clothes at all."
Schillie.—"Very much so."
Mother.—"Now do you know I have already had a great idea that this is the palm tree, out of which they make sago. Here you see are the young ones, small prickly shrubs, and here they are growing up into trees, and this one that I first pointed out is covered with a whitish dust, which I have read is an indication that the sago is ready to be taken."