“You musn't contradict, Mary,” said Miss Jones. “I only meant that you must behave as though there isn't, because nothing is impossible to one who truly tries.”
“My pencil waggles this way,” said Jeremy politely. “I think I'll hold it the old way, please.”
“There's only one way of doing anything,” said Miss Jones, “and that's the right way.”
“This is the right way for me,” said Jeremy.
“If I say it's not the right way—”
“But it waggles,” cried Jeremy.
The discussion was interrupted by a cry from Helen.
“Oh, do look, Miss Jones, Hamlet's got your spectacle-case. He thinks it's a mouse.”
There followed general confusion. Miss Jones jumped up, and, with little cries of distress, pursued Hamlet, who hastened into his favourite corner and began to worry the spectacle-case, with one eye on Miss Jones and one on his spoils.
Jeremy hurried up crying: “Put it down, Hamlet, naughty dog, naughty dog,” and Mary and Helen laughed with frantic delight.