narratives.

Jill meantime meditated morally on the superiority of her own
good temper over the hasty one of her dear playmate, and just
when she was feeling unusually uplifted and secure, alas! like so
many of us, she fell, in the most deplorable manner.

Glancing about the room for something to do, she saw a sheet of
paper lying exactly out of reach, where it had fluttered from the
table unperceived. At first her eye rested on it as carelessly as it
did on the stray stamp Frank had dropped; then, as if one thing
suggested the other, she took it into her head that the paper was
Frank's composition, or, better still, a note to Annette, for the two
corresponded when absence or weather prevented the daily
meeting at school.

"Wouldn't it be fun to keep it till he gives back Jack's stamps? It
would plague him so if it was a note, and I do believe it is, for
compo's don't begin with two words on one side. I'll get it, and
Jack and I will plan some way to pay him off, cross thing!"

Forgetting her promise not to stir, also how dishonorable it was to
read other people's letters, Jill caught up the long-handled hook,
often in use now, and tried to pull the paper nearer. It would not
come at once, for a seam in the carpet held it, and Jill feared to
tear or crumple it if she was not very careful. The hook was rather
heavy and long for her to manage, and Jack usually did the fishing,
so she was not very skilful; and just as she was giving a
particularly quick jerk, she lost her balance, fell off the sofa, and
dropped the pole with a bang.