"Look Sylvia, how funny!" and she pointed to a long row of * * * * at the end of the first part of the manuscript.
"They mean that some length of time had elapsed between the two parts of the story," said grandmother.
"Oh, I see.

And each star counts for a year.

I suppose.

Let me see; one, two, three----" "Molly, _do_ be quiet, and let grandmother go on," said Ralph and Sylvia, their patience exhausted.
"No, they are not counted like that," said grandmother.

"Listen, Molly, and you will hear for yourself." "The first part of my little story finished in the snow--on a cold December morning in England.