"Hurrm!" he said at last; "your Universe does exist--in a way; and the globe you call 'Terra' does exist--in a way. But the highly objectionable creatures on it don't seem too comfortable; in fact, a more ridiculous, calamitous, disastrous, pitiful, gruesome, repulsive muddle than they make of it I could not possibly conceive!" "But they have _some_ reasonable qualities?" argued James. "A few," said William. "Those taught them by the conduct of what you call the lower animals. _I_ know what's principally wrong with them--they _think_, and _do things_, too much." "Well, they are, perhaps, too much given to thinking and doing things. I admit that they make many mistakes, but I _do_ protest that they _mean well_--that their theories are, as a whole, in the right direction--that they have a solid, genuine admiration for good aims and great deeds, and reward such merits when conspicuously shown by any among them." "Hum!" said William. "Oh, come," said James; "you _must_ admit that humanity's rewards are, as a rule, conferred on those who do the greatest services to humanity." "From _my_ point of view, yes!" said William. "Let's have a game!" he said, suddenly. "A game?" said James, taken aback by such a proposition from the cynical and severe William. "Yes," said the latter. "Let us put this point of yours to the test. Let you and me select, each, a specimen of humanity from among this herd, each of us choosing the specimen which he deems most likely to obtain the highest praises and rewards of humanity; let us choose our specimens as babies, and watch them through their subsequent careers--eh?" "Very good," said James, confidently. "Let's have a bet on it, like your humans do with insurance companies about the length of their lives," said William. "I will bet you--let's see--I'll bet you that comet against that little star over there in the constellation like a saucepan. The comet's more showy, and apparently better value; so that will please _you_ best: and you won't notice its flimsiness as compared with the greater solidity of the little star." "But what nonsense!" said James. "What in space would be the use of a comet or a star to one of us? What could we do with it?" "You could give yours," said William, in that nasty tone of his, "to one of your humans. He would be delighted. It's exactly the kind of thing they are always longing for." Then they looked about among humanity. "I've chosen my baby," said James. "Something has gone wrong with another baby's feeding-bottle, and my baby is trying to put it right." "Very curious!" said William. "The baby I had chosen is the very baby whose feeding-bottle--(anachronism is nothing to _us_, James--we deal with _all_ dates)--your baby is attempting to put right. While your baby is so engaged, _my_ baby is damaging the tube of _your_ baby's bottle, to the end that your baby may fail to get any nourishment through it. That's the baby for _me_!"