"I believe so," answered Jasper, absently. Polly looked at him curiously.
"Polly," he said abruptly, "do you know what I mean to do?"
"No," said Polly; "tell me, do, Jasper."
"Well, I mean to sit right down and finish my book. I'm ashamed to confess that it's not up to date."
"Neither is mine," confessed Polly.
"Well, now, that won't do," said Jasper, decidedly. "You see if we once let those books get behindhand, we're lost. We never can catch up, in all this world."
"We've had so much to do and to see," began Polly.
"That won't be any excuse that will amount to anything," said Jasper, shaking his head. "Let's fly at them and tackle them now, Polly."
"I say so, too," she cried, and deserting the window, they surrounded the centre-table, and soon had the big journals, photographs, and pictures, of every sort and size, the ink bottle, and library paste, scissors, and all the rest of the paraphernalia, spread out on it.
"It's good that Grandpapa is lying down and doesn't wish to go out," remarked Polly, snipping away at a fearful rate, and pausing only to write down the dates and other bits of information around each picture, as she pasted it in. "Now we'll have all this morning to finish these books up to to-day."