ace scornfully. "No one but babies cares for them.
Why, even Allee hasn't been int'rested in such things for ages."

Mrs. Campbell smiled inwardly at Peace's contempt, but gently persisted,
"Sadie is too weak to hold heavy books yet, dearie. The puzzles _might_
amuse her, but she tires so easily that I know some small cambric
scrapbooks would prove a boon to her just now. I agree with you that she
would soon grow weary of looking at mere pictures; but I found some very
unique and helpful little books in the attic the other day which might
give you some ideas. Ned Meadows made them one summer for his own
amusement while he was confined to his bed with a broken leg. He cut up
a lot of old magazines and pasted the articles which interested him into
some ancient notebooks Grandpa Campbell had lying around the house. He
was always on the lookout for items concerning electricity, and one book
was filled from cover to cover with bits of such news. Another contained
nothing but jokes which had helped him laugh away a good many minutes;
and still another was used for anecdotes of famous men, with perhaps a
photograph or caricature to illustrate the little stories. He spent
hours cutting and pasting just for his own pleasure and amusement; but
without realizing it, he also stored away much useful knowledge in his
brain while he was waiting impatiently for the leg to mend. Don't you
think that would make an interesting play for you?"

"Ye--s," replied Peace dutifully but doubtfully. She was not as fond of
reading as were her sisters, and though her grandmother's plan _sounded_
interesting when it concerned someone else, she had her misgivings as to
its success when applied to herself.

"Then let's begin at once," cried Mrs. Campbell, trying to look
intensely eager, as she noted the lack of enthusiasm in the round,
cherubic face on the pillow. "We will make our books of cambric, because
that will be of lighter weight than paper, and I have stacks of old
magazines filled with short stories and bright sayings. Cherry, will you
please bring me my scissors from the work-basket and that roll of
colored cambric on the top shelf in the hall closet? Allee, wouldn't you
like to run down to the barn and ask Jud to bring us those old
'Companions' from the loft? Here comes Hope. Just in time, dearie, to
fetch us the paste from the library and the pinking iron which Gussie
was using last evening. We probably won't get as far as pasting anythin