poetry without. I wouldn't I know.' That was Dora; but Noel said he
wouldn't mind if he didn't get paid, so long as he saw his poetry
printed and his name at the end.

'We might try, anyway,' said Oswald. He is always willing to give other
people's ideas a fair trial.

So we copied out 'The Wreck of the Malabar' and the other six poems on
drawing-paper--Dora did it, she writes best--and Oswald drew a picture
of the Malabar going down with all hands. It was a full-rigged
schooner, and all the ropes and sails were correct; because my cousin is
in the Navy, and he showed me.

We thought a long time whether we'd write a letter and send it by post
with the poetry--and Dora thought it would be best. But Noel said he
couldn't bear not to know at once if the paper would print the poetry,
So we decided to take it.

I went with Noel, because I am the eldest, and he is not old enough to
go to London by himself. Dicky said poetry was rot--and he was glad he
hadn't got to make a fool of himself. That was because there was not
enough money for him to go with us. H. O. couldn't come either, but he
came to the station to see us off, and waved his cap and called out
'Good hunting!' as the train started.

There was a lady in spectacles in the corner. She was writing with a
pencil on the edges of long strips of paper that had print all down
them. When the train started she asked--

'What was that he said?'