"Some poor little boys and girls has no mothers and ganfathers, and no stockings and shoes, and no nothings," said Baby solemnly.
"There's some things I shouldn't mind not having," said Fritz; "I shouldn't mind having no lessons."
"O Fritz," said his sisters; "what a lazy boy you are!"
"No, I'm just not lazy. I'm awfully fond of doing everything—I don't even mind if it's a hard thing, so long as it isn't anything in books," said Fritz, sturdily. "Some people's made one way, and some's made another, and I'm made the way of not liking books."
"I wonder what Baby will say to books," said mother, smiling.
"Is jography in books," said Baby. "Him wants to learn jography."
"I think it's awfully stupid," said Denny. "I'm sure you won't like it once you begin. Did you like lessons when you were little, mother?"
"Yes, I'm sure mother did," said Fritz. "People's fathers and mothers were always far gooder than their children are. I've noticed that. If ever big people tell you about when they were little, it's always about how good they were. And they say always, 'Dear me, how happy children should be nowadays; we were never allowed to do so and so when we were little.' That's the way old Mrs. Nesbitt always talks, isn't it mother? I wonder if it's true. If people keep getting naughtier than their fathers and mothers were, the world will get very naughty some day. Is it true?"
"I think it's true that children get to be more spoilt," said Denny in a low voice. "Just look how Baby's clambering all over mother! O Baby, you nearly knocked over mother's cup! I never was allowed to do like that when I was a little girl."
Everybody burst out laughing—even mother—but Denny had the good quality of not minding being laughed at.