“No; I’m quite sure it is unagreeable—I saw it in the dictionary.”
“Well, then, you didn’t see right,” said Jack. “It’s d-i-s; awful big letters too. Means hateful, and not nice.”
“Well, it’s not nice to be poor,” said Rosalie wisely waiving all further discussion as to the word; “that you must say anyway, Jack.”
But Jack’s lips were tight. Presently he straightened himself up, and gave his head a shake. “Well, what shall we do about it?”
“Do?” said Rosalie, in surprise, “why, I don’t know what you mean, Jack?”
“When things are not nice, there is no use in talking about them if you don’t do something to make them better,” said Jack philosophically. “Now I want to know what we are going to do to make ourselves rich.”
“To make ourselves rich—O Jack!” cried Rosalie and Cornelius together.
“If we can earn some money, I suppose we shall be rich sometime,” observed Jack; “everybody was poor once, but they worked and got money. Now, how can we?”
The children were so possessed with the idea of their ever being rich, that no words came to their aid; and Jack went on without interruption.
“I’ve been thinking over something that, if we can do it, will be perfectly splendid, and help mammy take care of baby. Poor, dear mammy!”