'They're much too stupid. They can't be soldiers when they grow up, and can't fight. I'm going to be a soldier, and fight everybody, and kill them too.' And he marched up and down the room with his head up and his shoulders back, making bloodthirsty lunges at the babies as he passed.
'Quite a little man you see,' whispered the delighted mamma on the sofa.
'I shall be one soldier too!' exclaimed June, fired with enthusiasm: and she began to march by his side.
'You can't, you silly, you're only a girl.'
'Oh, that doesn't matter!' she cried, with her usual airiness.
'Well you are a silly,' said the boy, with immense contempt.
'You is one silly!' cried June, giving him a mighty push.
He rolled over at once, for though he was bigger than she was, and older, he wasn't half as compact and determined; and she lost no time in sitting on him and jumping up and down violently,—this being, as I have said, a favourite form of vengeance. And as no one can respect a person they have knocked down and jumped on, and as the conclusion was that all boys must be alike, the babies, especially June, thought them a decidedly inferior set.
'Tuck up your dress, April,' said the mother. 'You shall be the young man, and June the pretty maid. Come, we'll go to the piano and I'll teach you to act it. May can look on and clap.'