“There is a little girl named Prue. Who lives with a little boy named Simon. They mean well. But haven’t much sense. They have two grown-ups. A male and a female. Named Peter and Martha. Respectively. They are just the ordinary grown-ups. Neither better nor worse. And much might be done with them. By kindness. But Prue and Simon _go the wrong way to work_. It is blame blame all day long. But as for praise. Oh never! “One summer’s day Prue and Simon take Peter for a walk. In the country. And they meet a cow. And they think this a good opportunity. To test Peter’s knowledge. Of languages. So they tell him to talk to the cow. And he talks to the cow. And the cow don’t understand him. And he don’t understand the cow. And they are mad with him. ‘What is the use,’ they say. ‘Of our paying expensive fees. To have you taught the language. By a first-class cow. And when you come out into the country. You can’t talk it.’ And he says he did talk it. But they will not listen to him. But go on raving. And in the end it turns out. _It was a Jersey cow_! What talked a dialect. So of course he couldn’t understand it. But did they apologise? Oh dear no. “Another time. One morning at breakfast. Martha didn’t like her raspberry vinegar. So she didn’t drink it. And Simon came into the nursery. And he saw that Martha hadn’t drunk her raspberry vinegar. And he asked her why. And she said she didn’t like it. Because it was nasty. And he said it wasn’t nasty. And that she _ought_ to like it. And how it was shocking. The way grown-ups nowadays grumbled. At good wholesome food. Provided for them by their too-indulgent children. And how when _he_ was a grown-up. He would never have dared. And so on. All in the usual style. And to prove it wasn’t nasty. He poured himself out a cupful. And drank it off. In a gulp. And he said it was delicious. And turned pale. And left the room. “And Prue came into the nursery. And she saw that Martha hadn’t drunk her raspberry vinegar. And she asked her why. And Martha told her how she didn’t like it. Because it was nasty. And Prue told her she ought to be ashamed of herself. For not liking it. Because it was good for her. And really very nice. And anyhow she’d _got_ to like it. And not get stuffing herself up with messy tea and coffee. Because she wouldn’t have it. And there was an end of it. And so on. And to prove it was all right. She poured herself out a cupful. And drank it off. In a gulp. And she said there was nothing wrong with it. Nothing whatever. And turned pale. And left the room. “And it wasn’t raspberry vinegar. But just red ink. What had got put into the raspberry vinegar decanter. By an oversight. And they needn’t have been ill at all. If only they had listened. To poor old Martha. But no. That was their fixed idea. That grown-ups hadn’t any sense. At all. What is a mistake. As one perceives.”