"Of course," said the goldy balls—they always spoke together,—"you may say what you like, but none of you shine as we do."
"We think we give a purer and less lurid light," remarked the silver.
"You may do that, but you don't light up as we do," said the red balls.
"And we;" "And we," shouted the others.
"A nice, fat baby just came by on his mother's arm and tried to take me out of the box," said the top pink ball, trembling with pleasure. "I hoped his mother would buy me."
"We are not for sale singly," said the other pink, a little hurt that the baby had not seen him, "besides he would have squeezed you, and broken you, then you might have cut his fingers."
"I shouldn't like to do that," said the first pink ball again, looking anxious. "I hope he won't come again, he might snatch me."
"Don't you worry, if he snatches at all, it will be at us," said the gold balls again.
"Or at us," shouted all the others.