pt in
order. Go where your brother wishes at once."
For Polly and her brother had reached an age when it was convenient,
if possible, to throw the blame of all nursery differences on Polly.
In families where domestic discipline is rather fractious than firm,
there comes a stage when the girls almost invariably go to the wall,
because they will stand snubbing, and the boys will not. Domestic
authority, like some other powers, is apt to be magnified on the
weaker class.
But Mr. Skratdj would not always listen even to Harry.
"If you don't give it me back directly, I'll tell about your eating
the two magnum-bonums in the kitchen garden on Sunday," said Master
Harry on one occasion.
"Tell-tale tit!
Your tongue shall be slit,
And every dog in the town shall have a little bit,"
quoted his sister.
"Ah! You've called me a tell-tale. Now I'll go and tell Papa. You got
into a fine scrape for calling me names the other day."
"Go, then! I don't care."
"You wouldn't like me to go, I know."
"You daren't. That's what it is."
"I dare."
"Then why don't you?"
"Oh, I am going; but you'll see what will be the end of it."
Polly, however, had her own reasons for remaining stolid, and Harry
started. But when he reached the landing he paused. Mr. Skratdj had
especially announced that morning that he did not wish to be
disturbed, and though he was a favorite, Harry had no desire to invade
the dining-room at this crisis. So he returned to the nursery, and
said with a magnanimous air, "I don't want to get you into a scrape,
Polly. If you'll beg my pardon I won't go."
"I'm sure I sha'n't," said Polly, who was equally well informed as to
the position of affairs at headquarters. "Go, if you dare."
"I won't if you want me not," said Harry, discreetly waiving the
question of apologies.
"But I'd rather you went," said the obdurate Polly. "You're always
telling tales. Go and tell now, if you're not afraid."
So Harry went. But at the bottom of the stairs he lingered again, and
was meditating how to return with most credit to his dignity, when
Polly's face appeared through the banisters, and Polly's sharp tongue
goaded him on.
"Ah! I see you. You're stopping. You daren't go."
"I dare," said Harry; and at last he went.
As he turned the handle of the door, Mr. Skratdj turned round.
"Please, Papa----" Harry began.
"Get away with you!" cried Mr. Skratdj. "Didn't I tell you I was not
to be distur
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