"You must be rather tired."

"You must be rather tired."

"'Course not," he answered, with an indignant look.  "I'm not a girl--an' I'm nearly nine, too."

"'Course not," he answered, with an indignant look.  "I'm not a girl--an' I'm nearly nine, too."

"I gather from your tone that you are not partial to the sex--you don't like girls, eh, Imp?"

"I gather from your tone that you are not partial to the sex--you don't like girls, eh, Imp?"

"Should think not," he returned; "silly things, girls are. There's Dorothy, you know; we were playing at executions the other day--she was Mary Queen of Scots an' I was the headsman. I made a lovely axe with wood and silver paper, you know; an' when I cut her head off she cried awfully, an' I only gave her the weeniest little tap--an' they sent me to bed at six o'clock for it. I believe she cried on purpose--awfully caddish, wasn't it?"

"Should think not," he returned; "silly things, girls are.  There's Dorothy, you know; we were playing at executions the other day--she was Mary Queen of Scots an' I was the headsman. I made a lovely axe with wood and silver paper, you know; an' when I cut her head off she cried awfully, an' I only gave her the weeniest little tap--an' they sent me to bed at six o'clock for it. I believe she cried on purpose--awfully caddish, wasn't it?"

"My dear Imp," said I, "the older you grow the more the depravity of the sex will become apparent to you."

"My dear Imp," said I, "the older you grow the more the depravity of the sex will become apparent to you."

"Do you know, I like you," he said, regarding me thoughtfully.  "I think you are fine."

"Do you know, I like you," he said, regarding me thoughtfully.  "I think you are fine."

"Now that's very nice of you, Imp; in common with my kind I have a weakness for flattery--please go on."

"Now that's very nice of you, Imp; in common with my kind I have a weakness for flattery--please go on."

"I mean, I think you are jolly."

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