"Goodness, no! Fancy me making up poetry! It's to make up a calendar. There are subjects given for each month--sorrow, love, obedience, resignation--that sort of thing, and you have to give a quotation for each day. It will take some time, but we ought to stand a good chance. You are fond of reading, and know no end of poetry, and where I have a pull is in knowing French and German so well. I can give them some fine translations from the Latin and Greek too, for the matter of that, and it will look kind of swagger to put the authors' names underneath. That will impress the judges, and make 'em decide in our favour. I've been working at it only three days, and I've got over fifty quotations already. We must keep note-books in our pockets, and jot down any ideas that occur to us during the day, and go over them together at night. You will know a lot, I'm sure."
"'Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike, Therefore accomplish thy labour of love, till the heart is made godlike,'"
quoted Peggy with an air, and Rob nodded approval.
"That's it! That's the style! Something with a bit of a sermon in it to keep 'em up to the mark for the day. Bravo, Mariquita! you'll do it splendidly. That's settled then. We shall have to work hard, for there is only a month before the thing must be sent off, and we must finish in good time. When you leave things to the last, something is bound to come in the way. It will take an age to write out three hundred and sixty-five extracts."
"It will indeed, for they must be very nicely done," said Peggy fastidiously. "Of course it is most important that the extracts themselves should be good, but it matters almost as much that they should look neat and attractive. Appearances go such a long way." And when Robert demurred and stated his opinion that the judges would not trouble their heads about looks, she stuck firmly to her point.
"Oh, won't they though. Just imagine how you would feel if you were in their position, and had to look over scores of ugly uninteresting manuscripts. You would be bored to death, and after plodding conscientiously through a few dozen, you would get so mixed up that you would hardly be able to distinguish one from another. Then suddenly--suddenly"--Peggy clasped her hands with one of her favourite dramatic gestures--"you would see before you a dainty little volume prettily written, easy to read, easy to hold, nice to look at, and do you mean to say that your heart wouldn't give a jump, and that you would not take a fancy to the writer from that very moment? Of course you would, and so, if you please, I am going to look after the decorative department and see what can be done. I must give my mind to it----Oh! I'll tell you what would be just the thing. When I was in the library one day lately I saw some sweet little note-books with pale green leaves and gilt edges. I'll count the pages, and buy enough to make up three hundred and sixty-five, and twelve extra, so as to put one plain sheet between each month. Then we must have a cover. Two pieces of cardboard would do, with gilt edges, and a motto in old English letters, 'The months in circling orbit fly.' Have I read that somewhere, or did I make it up? It sounds very well. Well, what next?" Peggy was growing quite excited, and the restless hands were waving about at a great rate. "Oh, the pages! We shall have to put the date at the top of each. I could do that in gold ink, and make a pretty little skriggle--er--'_arabesque_,' I should say, underneath to give it a finish. Then I'd hand them on to you to write the extracts in your tiny little writing. Rob, it will be splendid! Do you really think we shall get the prize?"