siest thing in
the world when you once get started. Does Betty know about what we're
doing?"

"No," said Betty, looking interested, "tell me about it."

"Why, you see," Lulu explained, "Aunt Daisy is writing a book, and in it
two little girls have to write compositions, and she thought it would be
so nice to have original ones written by real little girls. So she asked
Winifred and me to write some for her, and if she likes them well
enough, she will put them in her book, and they will be published. Won't
that be fun?"

Betty and Jack were both much impressed, and Winifred, who did not find
authorship come at all easy, was struck with a bright idea.

"I don't suppose your aunt cares who writes the stories, so long as she
gets them, does she, Lulu?"

"Why, no, I don't suppose so," Lulu admitted, "but you really must try,
Winnie. Think how grand it will be to have something published."

"I was only thinking that perhaps Betty or Jack could do it better,"
said Winifred, with an appealing glance at her two little friends, both
of whom, however, declined to enter the compact, declaring that they
couldn't write a story to save their lives.

"I can't see why you all find it so hard," said Lulu a little
patronizingly; "it seems very easy to me. I was only five when I made up
my first story, and Aunt Daisy wrote it down on her typewriter. It
wasn't very long, only 'Two little girls went to see two little boys.
They played hide and seek and blindman's buff. Then they had ice cream,
and went home again.' Aunt Daisy said it was a beginning, and I've been
writing stories ever since. Oh, by the way, Aunt Daisy says if you'll
come over this afternoon she'll tell us all stories on the piazza."

The children looked pleased, and accepted the invitation with alacrity,
for Lulu's blind aunt was a famous story-teller and a great favorite
with them all.

"Papa and mamma have gone to the city for the day," said Lulu, "and Aunt
Daisy's very busy this morning, writing on her story, but she's promised
to devote the whole afternoon to us."

The conversation drifted to other things, and the next hour passed very
pleasantly in building sand forts, making mud pies, and doing other
delightful things only possible at the sea shore. The ocean was very
calm, and the little girls took off their shoes and stockings, and let
the little waves splash over their feet. Jack lay on the sand, watching
them and making sketches by turns. Some of the pe