“Old bachelors’ children, you know,” Mr. Manly said, with a smile.

“O yes, I know.  But silly adages don’t excuse neglectful parents,” replied Mr. Pelby, a little touched at the allusion.

“That is true, Mr. Pelby.  But what I meant you to understand by the remark was, that those who have no children of their own are too often wanting in a due consideration and forbearance towards those of other people.  I have quite a house full and I know that I take great pains with them, and that the true management of them costs me much serious consideration; and yet I have known some of mine to act much worse than Tommy Little did this evening.”

“Well, all I have to say in the matter, friend Manly, is this:—­If I had a child that acted as rudely as that young one did to-night, I would, teach him a lesson that he would not forget for the next twelve months.”

“You don’t know what you would do, if you had a child, Pelby.  An active, restless child requires patience and continued forbearance; and, if it should be your lot to have such a one, I am sure your natural affection and good sense would combine to prevent your playing the unreasonable tyrant over it.”

“Perhaps it would.  But I am sure I should not think my natural affection and good sense pledged to let my child do as he pleased, and annoy every one that came to the house.”

“You were exceedingly annoyed, then, to-night?”

“Annoyed!  Why, I could hardly sit in my chair towards the last.  And when the young imp came pawing me and climbing over me, I could hardly help tossing him off of my lap upon the floor.”

“You did not seem so much worried.  I really thought you were pleased with the little fellow.”

“Now, that is too bad, Manly!  I’d as lief had a monkey screwing and twisting about in my lap.  It was as much as I could do to be civil to either his father or mother for suffering their brat to tease me as he did.  First, I must be kissed by his bread and butter mouth; and then he made me suffer a kind of martyrdom in fear of my elegant lever.  A watch is not the thing for a child to play with, and I am astonished at Little for suffering his young one to annoy a visitor in that way.”

“Blame them as much as you please, but don’t feel unkindly towards the child,” said Manly.  “He knows no better.  Your watch delighted him, and of course he wanted it, and any attempt to deprive him of it was very naturally resisted.  His parents are fond of him—­and well they may be—­and pet him a great deal; thus he has learned to expect every visitor to notice him, and also expects to notice and make free with every visitor.  This is all very natural.”

“Natural enough, and so is it to steal; but that don’t make it right.  Children should be taught, from the first, to be reserved in the presence of strangers, and never to come near them unless invited.  If I had one, I’ll be bound he wouldn’t disgrace me as Little’s child did him to-night.”