curl, so it's no use. Some people say it's more important to tidy up as you go along. I don't mean you in particular, but every one.
H. O.—We never said you were tubby, but the Editor does not know any cure.
Noël.—If there is any of the paper over when this newspaper is finished, I will exchange it for your shut-up inkstand, or the knife that has the useful thing in it for taking stones out of horses' feet, but you can't have it without.
H. O.—There are many ways how your steam engine might stop working. You might ask Dicky. He knows one of them. I think it is the way yours stopped.
Noël.—If you think that by filling the garden with sand you can make crabs build their nests there you are not at all sensible.
You have altered your poem about the battle of Waterloo so often, that we cannot read it except where the Duke waves his sword and says some thing we can't read either. Why did you write it on blotting-paper with purple chalk?—Ed.
(Because you know who sneaked my pencil.—Noël.)
