"Oh, if I'm to assist, that's quite another anecdote," he said briskly.
"I didn't understand you intended to ring me in. Of course, I don't mean
to imply there is any special prejudice against books of travel in
Europe. About how many pages did you think of running it to?"
"My idea was three hundred," I replied.
"And how many words to a page?"
"Two hundred and fifty--more or less."
"That's seventy-five thousand words! Pretty big undertaking, if you look
at it in bulk."
"We shall have to rely upon momma," I remarked.
Poppa's expression disparaged the idea, and he began to feel round for
his beard.
"If I were you," he said, "I wouldn't place much dependence on momma.
She'll be able to give you a few hints on sunsets and a pointer or two
about the various Venuses, likely--she's had photographs of several of
them in the house for years--but I expect it's going to be a question of
historical fact pretty often, and momma won't be in it. Not that I want
to choke momma off," he continued, "but she will necessitate a whole
reference library. And in some parts of Europe I believe they charge you
for every pound of luggage, including your lunch, if you don't happen to
have concealed it in your person.
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