Scholarly Ambitions

After brushing the dry porch leaves from my ruffled skirt, I trotted into the quiet bedroom for some proper evening mischief. Perched right atop an open hardcover book on the nightstand was a pair of round, wire-rimmed reading glasses—clearly waiting for a scholar of my caliber. I clambered up the paper slope, hooked a hoof over the metal bridge, and peered through the lens. Instantly, the whole room ballooned into a giant, dizzy wobble! I took one proud step backward to adjust my view, but my hoof snagged the ribbon bookmark, sending the heavy frames sliding down the page until the wire temple snapped shut against the margin. Can you really blame me for giving your book a smarter look?