where Tom and his partner
might hold different views. Tom insists he's right, the partner insists
he's right. Tom consequently stays away for a week from the office,
during which the poor partner has to manage as best he can.

Whatever Tom will do about marrying I don't know; and when he is
married, what his wife will do, I know still less--it's no use
speculating on such a matter. But now, letting Tom be, let us inquire
whether the sulky boy is more to be blamed than pitied. That he is an
odious, disagreeable fellow, there is no doubt. But perhaps it's not
_all_ his own fault. Some boys are of duller natures than others. The
high-spirited, healthy, sanguine fellow will flare up at a moment's
notice, and let fly without stopping to think twice of the injury done
him, while the dull boy is altogether slower in his movements: words
don't come to his lips so quickly, or thoughts don't rush into his mind
as promptly as in others; he is like the snail who, when offended,
shrinks back into its shell, leaving nothing but a hard, unyielding
exterior to mark his displeasure. A great many boys are sulky because
they have not the boldness to be anything else; and a great many others
are so because to their small minds it is the grandest way of displaying
their wrath. If only they could see how ridiculous they are!

I once knew two boys who for some time had been firm friends at school.
By some unlucky chance a misunderstanding occurred which interrupted
this friendship, and the grievance was, or appeared to be, so sore, that
neither boy would speak to the other. Well, this went on for no less
than six months, and became the talk of the whole school. These silly
boys, however, were so convinced of the sublimity of their respective
conducts that they never observed that every one was laughing at them.
Daily they passed one another, with eyes averted and noses high in the
air; daily they fed their memories with the recollection of their smart.
For six months never a word passed between them. Then came the summer
holidays, in the course of which it suddenly occurred to both these
boys, being not altogether senseless boys, that after all they were
making themselves rather ridiculous. And the more they thought of it,
the more ashamed of themselves they grew, till at last one sat down and
wrote,--

"Dear Dick, I'm sorry I offended you; make it up," to which epistle
came, by return post, a reply,--

"Dear Bob, _I'm_ sorry