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of sex gave point to many of these nursery squabbles, as it so often does to domestic broils.

      “Boys never will do what they’re asked,” Polly would complain.

      “Girls ask such unreasonable things,” was Harry’s retort.

      “Not half so unreasonable as the things you ask.”

      “Ah! that’s a different thing! Women have got to do what men tell them, whether it’s reasonable or not.”

      “No, they’ve not!” said Polly. “At least, that’s only husbands and wives.”

      “All women are inferior animals,” said Harry.

      “Try ordering Mamma to do what you want, and see!” said Polly.

      “Men have got to give orders, and women have to obey,” said Harry, falling back on the general principle, “And when I get a wife, I’ll take care I make her do what I tell her. But you’ll have to obey your husband when you get one.”

      “I won’t have a husband, and then I can do as I like.”

      “Oh, won’t you? You’ll try to get one, I know. Girls always want to be married.”

      “I’m sure I don’t know why,” said Polly; “they must have had enough of men if they have brothers.”

      And so they went on, ad infinitum, with ceaseless arguments that proved nothing and convinced nobody, and a continual stream of contradiction that just fell short of downright quarrelling.

      Indeed, there was a kind of snapping even less near to a dispute than in the cases just mentioned. The little Skratdjs, like some other children, were under the unfortunate delusion that it sounds clever to hear little boys and girls snap each other up with smart sayings, and old and rather vulgar play upon words, such as:

      “I’ll give you a Christmas box. Which ear will you have it on?”

      “I won’t stand it.”

      “Pray take a chair.”

      “You shall have it to-morrow.”

      “To-morrow never comes.”

      And so if a visitor kindly began to talk to one of the children, another was sure to draw near and “take up” all the first child’s answers, with smart comments, and catches that sounded as silly as they were tiresome and impertinent.

      And ill-mannered as this was, Mr and Mrs Skratdj never put a stop to it. Indeed, it was only a caricature of what they did themselves. But they often said, “We can’t think how it is the children are always squabbling!”

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