be fine. I--I
really wanted your book, 'cause it is so nice and wide, but I thought
likely you would find some use for it yourself some day."

"Well, I have. We'll use it for a scrap album."

"A scrap album?"

"Yes. I mean, we can each of us write in it whenever we feel poetry, but
we needn't _have_ to do it at any time."

"And I can paste my 'lustrations in it between leaves, can't I?"

"What kind of 'lustrations?"

"Why, like Hope's note-book. She _has_ to draw pictures of plants and
flowers in her botany, and just for fun she makes _skitches_ to picture
out the stories they study in some of her other classes."

"But her _skitches_ are nice," Peace remarked skeptically. "Why, Grandpa
thinks some day she will make a good 'lustrator for magazines and
books."

"My pictures are nice, too," Allee contended. "Here is a sunset I
painted a long time ago--"

"It looks like a prairie fire," murmured the older sister, gravely
eyeing the highly-colored sheet upside down.

"It just matches a lullaby I made up yesterday," continued Allee,
unmindful of Peace's criticism. Rapidly her fingers turned the pages
until she had found the lines she wanted, and with a heart filled with
pride, she passed the book to her companion, who read,

"The sun is sinking in the west,
'Tis time my baby dear should rest,--
Sleep, baby, sleep."

"You haven't got any baby," the reader interrupted.

"It don't need babies to write lullabies," Allee scornfully retorted. "A
real poet can write about _anything_."

"Well, anyway, I like this one better." Peace's eyes had travelled
rapidly through the lines, and lingered over some stanzas on the
opposite page:

"I wonder why the fairies hide?
I'm sure I'd like to see them dance,
But though my very best I've tried,
I never yet have had a chance.
I wonder why, don't you?

I wonder why the birdies fly,
While I alone can cry and talk;
But though I often try and try,
I cannot do a thing but walk.
I wonder why, don't you?"

"Yes, Gussie liked that, too," said Allee, much pleased.

"Did you write it all yourself?" Peace was incredulous.

"Well, Gussie showed me how to fix it up so it didn't limp, but it's
almost like I wrote it."

"I don't see how you can think of the things to say."

"They think themselves, I guess," replied Allee after a moment's study.
"Teacher last year used to read us stories