anything more if you have it, and then every time you look at this
page you can just seem to see that whole trip, can't you?"

"Yes," said Marjorie, who was becoming absorbedly interested in
this new game; "and here's the time-table, Uncle: but that isn't
very pretty and it's so big. Oh, and here's the card, the bill of
fare, you know, that we had in the dining-car. See, it has a
picture on it."

"Why, Midget, it isn't considered exactly good form to carry the
MENU away with you; but it's really no crime, and since you have
it, we'll put it in. As to the time-table, we'll just cut out this
part that includes the stations at the beginning and end of your
trip. See?"

"Oh, yes, indeed I do! And what a beautiful page!" Marjorie
breathlessly watched as Uncle Steve arranged the souvenirs
harmoniously on the big page and pasted them neatly in their
places. Then, taking from his pocket a box of colored pencils, he
printed at the top of the page, in ornate letters, the date and
the occasion. Uncle Steve was an adept at lettering, and the
caption was an additional ornament to the already attractive page.

Thus they went on through the book. Sometimes a page was devoted
to a special occasion, and again many scattered mementoes were
grouped together. It seemed as if every pleasure Marjorie had had
since she came, had produced something attractive for her book.

A fancy lace paper represented the big box of bonbons that her
father had sent her when she had her sprained ankle. Many