I am, yours faithfully, Margery'--it would be no good simply putting
'B-a-b-y,' because he wouldn't know what you meant."

"Well, what WOULD it be good putting?"

"Ah, that's the whole art of writing--to know what it would be any
good putting. You want to learn lots and lots of new words, so as to
be ready. Now here's a jolly little one that you ought to meet." I
took the pencil and wrote GOT. "Got. G-o-t, got."

Margery, her elbows on my knee and her chin resting on her hands,
studied the position.

"Yes, that's old 'got,'" she said.

"He's always coming in. When you want to say, 'I've got a bad pain,
so I can't accept your kind invitation'; or when you want to say,
'Excuse more, as I've got to go to bed now'; or quite simply,
'You've got my pencil.'"

"G-o-t, got," said Margery. "G-o-t, got. G-o-t, got."

"With appropriate action it makes a very nice recitation."

"Is THAT a 'g'?" said Margery, busy with the pencil, which she had
snatched from me.

"The gentleman with the tail. You haven't made his tail quite long
enough.... That's better."