Ellen was sitting beside her father on a bench at the Battery. She was looking at her new brown button shoes. A glint of sunlight caught on the toes and on each of the little round buttons when she swung her feet out from under the shadow of her dress.
"Think how it'd be," Ed Thatcher was saying, "to go abroad on one of those liners. Imagine crossing the great Atlantic in seven days."
"But daddy what do people do all that time on a boat?"
"I dunno . . . I suppose they walk round the deck and play cards and read and all that sort of thing. Then they have dances."
"Dances on a boat! I should think it'd be awful tippy." Ellen giggled.
"On the big modern liners they do."
"Daddy why dont we go?"
"Maybe we will some day if I can save up the money."
"Oh daddy do hurry up an save a lot of
