The Ship Dwellers

It was a long time ago-far back in another century-that my father brought home from the village, one evening, a brand-new book. There were not so many books in those days, and this was a fine big one, with black and gilt covers, and such a lot of pictures I was at an age to claim things. I said the book was my book, and, later, petitioned my father to establish that claim. (I remember we were climbing through the bars at the time, having driven the cows to the further pasture.) My father was kindly disposed, but conservative; that was his habit. He said that I might look at the book-that I might even read it, some day, when I was old enough, and I think he added that privately Pg 2] I might call it mine-a privilege which provided as well for any claim I might have on the moon.