“If you ask a fellow a question you should give him a chance to answer it,” he observed sulkily. And then, as Sally politely remarked that she hoped he would excuse her, he went on.
“According to my own point of view, which is undoubtedly the correct one, I have no age at all, and never shall have any.” Then, as Sally uttered a little exclamation of protest, he added hurriedly:
“Toys never grow up and so really never grow older. They never grow in any other way whatever, consequently why should they ever become any age at all? How perfectly absurd to suppose that they do!”
He ended with a contemptuous sniff, which so tickled his sharp black nose that he fell into a fit of sneezing that lasted for several minutes.
The child, rather alarmed, hastened to pat him on the back, and he finally emerged from the attack none the worse and remarked that probably some of the crumbs had gone the wrong way.
Sally, who all the time had been wondering if he were red in the face under his fur, longed to remark that the crumbs must have gone the wrong way with a vengeance if they had gone up his nose. However, she rather feared provoking the Teddy bear, and remarked, by way of continuing the conversation:
“Oh, of course, you don’t grow any bigger. That is because you are just stuffed. There isn’t anything in you to grow.”
Somehow the child found arguing with the Teddy bear rather difficult. And then he was so comical that in spite of his obstinacy it was impossible to be offended with him.
“No, thank fortune, we don’t grow any bigger,” retorted the Teddy bear, with some asperity. “Only live things, like yourself, for example, do that. Now supposing I were a real, live bear, what size would I be by this time? If you were a doll, you would not be obliged to grow up either. But as you are only a girl of course you will have to.”