“LET us write a book,” they said;
“but what shall it be about ?”
“A fairy story,” said the elder sister.
” A book about kings and queens,” said the other.
“Oh, no,” said the brother, “let’s write about animals.”
“We will write about them all,” they cried together. So they put the paper, and pens, and ink ready. The elder sister took up a fairy story and looked at it, and put it down again.
“I have never known any fairies,” she said, “except in books; but, of course, it would not do to put one book inside another anyone could do that.”
“I shall not begin to-day,” the little one said, “for I must know a few kings and queens before I write about them, or I may say something foolish.”
“I shall write about the pig, and the pony, and the white rabbit,” said the brother; “but first I must think a bit. It would never do to write a book without thinking.”
Then the elder sister took up the fairy story again, to see how many things were left out, for those, she thought, would do to go into her book.
The little one said to herself, “Really, it is no good thinking about kings and queens until I have known some, so I must wait;” and while the brother was considering about the pig, and the pony, and the white rabbit, he fell asleep.
So the book is not written yet, but when it is we shall know a great deal.