“That just shows that a photographer has to be more skilful than a painter,” she said. “The painter can do what he likes, but the photographer has to get good results out of what is set before him.”
“And as for balance—if nature happens to have placed things in balance, well and good; but if she didn’t what can you do about it?”
“Nothing, my child, unless you introduce some object that you have some power over. Put in a girl or a dog or a horse somewhere where their weight will bring about the result you want.”
“You can’t carry girls and dogs and horses round with you,” objected Roger, who was in a depressed mood this morning and found difficulties in every suggestion.
“You’ve got enough sisters and cousins for the girls, and you can take Christopher Columbus around with you in your pocket to play the four-footed friend,” laughed Helen.
“Speaking of Columbus—are we going to celebrate Columbus Day this year?” asked Roger, as he deftly inserted a new spool of film. “It’s just luck James and I being here at all, you know. We’d like to do something to celebrate being exposed to scarlet fever as soon as we got to Boston, and being sent home for it to incubate, and then having nothing hatch!”
“Haven’t you heard? Aunt Louise is going to have her housewarming on October 12, Columbus Day? She has asked the Club to do something appropriate.”
“I thought the Watkinses had asked us to go into New York to see the parade.”
“They have. That won’t interfere with us. They’ll come out here later and then we’ll do something in the evening in the new attic to amuse Aunt Louise’s guests.”
“Any idea what?”