The Spirit of Contradiction finds a place in most nurseries, though to a very varying degree in different ones. Children snap and snarl by nature, like young puppies; and most of us can remember taking part in some such spirited dialogues as the following:-- {"I will." {"You can't." {"You shall." {"I won't." {"You daren't." {"I dare." {"I'll tell Mamma." {"I don't care if you do." It is the part of wise parents to repress these squibs and crackers of juvenile contention, and to enforce that slowly-learned lesson, that in this world one must often "pass over" and "put up with" things in other people, being oneself by no means perfect. Also that it is a kindness, and almost a duty, to let people think and say and do things in their own way occasionally. But even if Mr. and Mrs. Skratdj had ever thought of teaching all this to their children, it must be confessed that the lesson would not have come with a good grace from either of them, since they snapped and snarled between themselves as much or more than their children in the nursery. The two eldest were the leaders in the nursery squabbles. Between these, a boy and a girl, a ceaseless war of words was waged from morning to night. And as neither of them lacked ready wit, and both were in constant practice, the art of snapping was cultivated by them to the highest pitch. It began at breakfast, if not sooner. "You've taken my chair." "It's not your chair." "You know it's the one I like, and it was in my place." "How do you know it was in your place?" "Never mind. I do know." "No, you don't." "Yes, I do." "Suppose I say it was in my place." "You can't, for it wasn't." "I can, if I like." "Well, was it?" "I sha'n't tell you." "Ah! that shews it wasn't." "No, it doesn't." "Yes, it does." Etc., etc., etc. The direction of their daily walks was a fruitful subject of difference of opinion. "Let's go on the Common to-day, Nurse." "Oh, don't let's go there; we're always going on the Common." "I'm sure we're not. We've not been there for ever so long." "Oh, what a story! We were there on Wednesday. Let's go down Gipsey Lane. We never go down Gipsey Lane." "Why, we're always going down Gipsey Lane. And there's nothing to see there." "I don't care. I won't go on the Common, and I shall go and get Papa to say we're to go down Gipsey Lane. I can run faster than you." "That's very sneaking; but I don't care." "Papa! Papa! Polly's called me a sneak." "No, I didn't, Papa." "You did." "No, I didn't. I only said it was sneaking of you to say you'd run faster than me, and get Papa to say we were to go down Gipsey Lane." "Then you did call him sneaking," said Mr. Skratdj. "And you're a very naughty, ill-mannered little girl. You're getting very troublesome, Polly, and I shall have to send you to school, where you'll be kept in order. Go where your brother wishes at once."