“Didn’t you ever see Oscar’s anchor?” inquired Otis.
“No, I didn’t know he had an anchor,” replied Miss Lee.
“He has got a real handsome anchor on his arm, pricked in with Indian ink,” continued Otis.
“He made it when he was at sea,—and he has got a star like mine on his hand,” said Ronald.
“I have noticed the star,” said Miss Lee; “but what is the use of your marking yourselves in that way? What do you do it for?”
“Why, it looks handsome,” replied Ronald, with some hesitation.
“I don’t think so—those black marks look ugly, to me,” replied Miss Lee; “besides, you never can wash them out.”
“Why, that’s the beauty of it, Aunt Fanny,” replied Ronald, with one of his roguish looks. “There wouldn’t be any fun in it if it washed out.”
“Perhaps you will think differently, some time or other,” said Miss Lee.
“But what hurt does it do?” inquired Otis.