rest. First I'm going to fill this basin with clean water, and put this
pretty pink piece to float in it. Now, you see, I am slipping this sheet
of notepaper underneath, and drawing it very carefully and gently from
the water, so that the sea-weed remains spreads out upon the paper. I
shall pin the sheet by its four corners on to this board, and when it is
dry you'll find that the sea-weed has stuck to the paper as firmly as if
it had been glued. It's not really difficult, but it needs a little
skill to lift the sheet from the water without disarranging your
sea-weed."

"This one's lovely," said Isobel. "I must try to do the green piece
next. How jolly they'll look when they are all nicely pasted into a
book! I wonder if it will be difficult to find out the names? It's
rather hard to tell our flowers, isn't it?"

"Sometimes; but I think we are improving in our botany. How many
different kinds have we pressed since we came here?"

"Forty; I counted them yesterday. And we have fifty-seven at home. We
shall soon have the drawer quite full. Do you think I might look at the
scabious that I put under your big box last night?"

"I'm afraid you will spoil it if you peep at it too soon. When I was a
little girl my brother and I used sometimes to amuse ourselves by
putting specimens to press under the leaves of an old folding-table, and
pledging each other not to look at them for a year. It was rather hard
sometimes to keep our vows, but the flowers were most beautifully dried
when we took them out again. Some day we will start a collection of
pressed ferns; they are really easier to do than wild flowers, because
they keep their colour, while the pretty blue of harebells or speedwells
always seems to fade away."

"I've done three sea-weeds already," said Isobel, successfully arranging
a delicate piece of pink coralline with the point of a hat pin. "I'm
afraid this next white one will be very difficult, it's so thick."

"You can't float that. It's a zoophyte, not a real sea-weed; and,
indeed, not a vegetable at all, but the very lowest form of animal life.
You must hang it up to dry, like you do the long pieces of oar-weed.
We'll try to get the messy work done this morning, so that we can clear
the table for Polly to lay dinner, and in the afternoon I thought you
might finish your tea-cosy for Mr. Binks. There is not much to be done
to it now, and then I can make it up for you."

"Oh, that would be nice! When can we go an