“No, you are not strong enough.”
“And I can’t sew half so well as she can,” added Lulu; “I’m not at all fond of plain sewing.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” remarked her father, “for I think every woman should be skilled in that sort of work.”
“I’d like sewing on a machine pretty well,” said Lulu, “but it’s slow, tedious work with a needle in your fingers.”
“Then I fear if I should buy you a machine now, you would never learn the skillful use of your needle. I want you to persevere with that, daughter, and I promise that as soon as your mamma tells me you have become an accomplished needle-woman, I will buy you the best machine that is to be had. And perhaps,” he added with a humorous look, “it will not be necessary to forbid you to use it too constantly.”
“I don’t believe it will, papa,” returned Lulu laughingly, “I don’t believe I should ever enjoy working it half so well as sawing and carving.”
Just then the breakfast-bell put an end to their talk.
Shortly after the meal was over Zoe drew Lulu aside and asked if she had decided upon the present from the Peri to the captain.
“No, not yet, Aunt Zoe; have you thought of any thing?”
“Yes, one that is spoken of in the book we take the idea from, the idea of the magic cave, the Peri and so on, I mean. It’s a pen-wiper with an ass’s head, and the words ‘There are two of us.’”