THE QUARREL.

Cromwell Argus, 30 March 1931, Page 2

THE QUARREL.

They took up the quarrel the children began. They argued and wrangled as two mothers can. They spouted and sputtered And mumbled and muttered, And threatened swift vengeance as angry folks will With language fantastic, Unseemly, sarcastic They tongue-lashed each other and wouldn’t keep stilh

Their tempers grew hot and their faces grew red. They dished up the scandal that gossips had spread, They hinted they knew things, In anger they threw things, Till breathless they fell in a, heap on the floor. And just as they sided The neighbors divided, So the battle will last for a year or two more.

But what of the children who started the row? They’re hand in.hand playing together right now. Without any clatter They ended the matter And yesterday’s fight is the least of their cares, , While juries and judges Must settle the grudges Of parents who meddle in children's affairs.

A GOOD CUSTOMER. Gritts, the grocer, pulled his apron straight and put on an expansive smile, as the woman with the I’m-plac-ing-a-thumping-big-order air entered the shop. She wanted some cheese. “Yes, madam!” smirked Gritts. "I have some delightful Derbys, madam, a quantity of choice Cheddars, and also prime Parmesans.” ' Madam would like to taste some, if she could. Gritts flourished his gouge over this cheese and that. Madam nibbled at eleven different samples. No; none of them was quite what she wanted. “Of course, madam," said Gritts at length, “if you require Stilton ” and he handed her a generous helping. “Ah,” nodded the woman, “that wall do nicely! Now I’ll be getting home. 1 only want to bait a mouse-trap!”

He had never struck such a stuffy hotel in his life. In vain did he try to sleep. It was useless. He had endeavored to open the windows before going to bed, but found them all sealed. He tossed and turned. At last, in desperation, he got out of bed, wrapped a blanket round his hand, and smashed a window. Then he breathed deeply, got back to bed and fell into a deep and refreshing sleep.

Next morning he had to pay ten shillings for smashing the front of the wardrobe.

Mrs. Brown: “I think the best birthday present for Alice would be a book.”

Mr. Brown: “Don’t b« silly—she’s already eot on«*I”