London: New York:
Ernest Nister E.P. Dutton & Co
Printed in Bavaria.
C.B.
"Come and have a game at soldiers, Dulcie."
"I can't, Harold; don't you see I'm busy?"
"Busy writing rubbish! How you can be so silly as to waste your timelike that I can't think. It isn't as if you really could writepoetry, and I call it downright conceited for a girl to pretend shecan. So, do leave off, there's a dear, and come and have a game. Iwant to try my new cannon, and you shall have first shot if you willcome."
But Dulcie was offended. A week ago she had written a verse aboutHarold's dog, and father had said it was very good and had given hersixpence for writing it. Since then she had spent most of her sparetime trying to write other verses, but this afternoon she wasbeginning to get a little tired of being a poetess and to long for agood game.
When Harold suggested soldiers, she really wanted to play, for she wasalmost as fond of boys' games as her brother was; but she thought itsounded grand to pretend she was busy. Then when Harold called hersilly and conceited she grew angry and sulked.
"Do come, Dulcie; don't be cross!"
"Go away, you rude boy," replied Dulcie.
Harold tried coaxing for a little while longer, and then he went awayand left his sister alone in the schoo