James laughed in derision. "Well, if you think _your_ choice will merit the praise of humanity----!" he began. "Stop!" said William. "The words in our agreement were '_obtain_ the praises of humanity.' We said nothing about _meriting_ them. I say my choice will obtain them." "Well, well," said James, "you needn't split hairs!" "I'm not splitting hairs," replied William; "I am pointing out the chasm between two mountains." "But--confound it!" said James, impatient at his companion's want of reason. "You don't mean to seriously tell me that you seriously believe that humanity would seriously choose to reward those who injure rather than those who benefit----?" "Never mind what I believe. You'll see," said William. "See, our babies are growing; they are little boys now. What's yours doing?" "Mine," said James, triumphantly, "has found a dead bird, and is trying to bring it to life." "That is the bird which _my_ little boy has killed," said William. James sniggered again. "You had better make another choice," he said. "_Will_ you kindly mind your own business," said William, "and look after your chance of that comet? You'd better be ordering a handsome casket to present it to your baby in _when_ he has obtained the praises of humanity. What's your baby up to now?" [Illustration: "THAT'S THE BABY FOR ME!"] "He has grown," replied James, gazing earthwards. "He is at school. Another boy has been knocked down in the playground by a third boy ----" "Yes--by _my_ boy," put in William. [Illustration: "FOUND A DEAD BIRD."] "And my boy is attending to his bruises and trying to ease the pain of them." "Just so," said William. "A most mistaken young person! I knew he would--just the sort of thing he _would_ be up to!" "At any rate, he is earning the gratitude of the victim," protested James. "The gratitude of victims," said the objectionable William, "is not legal tender; it is not even a marketable article. Did you ever see the gratitude of victims quoted in the share-lists of the newspapers published by your precious humans? Have you ever seen it advertised for in the columns of that periodical of theirs called _Exchange and Mart_? You may have seen it advertised for sale there; but there were no answers. Now look at _my_ boy, James--look at him! That's promise, if you like! He's knocking down _all_ the other boys like ninepins." "Your boy is a Bully," said James. "Ah! you've discovered it, then? It has at last dawned upon you that I am bound to win. My boy is a Bully. You may as well just hand over that little star out of the saucepan at once, and save further trouble." "What! _Do_ you mean to tell me," screamed James, rising on the tips of his toes with indignation, "to tell me that a Bully is the sort of person to obtain the highest praises and rewards of his fellow-creatures?"