I knew you wouldn't grudge me a bit of paper to get into the 'Household Album' with.

Come down into the ravine.

You're as white as a blank sheet of Whatman's hot-pressed water-colour paper!" The increasing heat was really beginning to overpower me, but I refused to leave my sketch.

Jack pinned a large white pocket-handkerchief to my shoulders--"to keep the sun from the spine"-- and departed to the ravine.
By midday my outline was in.

One is no good judge of one's own work, but I think, on the whole, that it was a success.
It is always refreshing to complete a stage of anything.