Australian Tales - Setis

children, by giving them everything they ask for, or by allowing them to
do anything they like, to keep them from fretting. Such pet children are
not much less than little nuisances; and I feel almost malicious enough to
make faces at them, and frighten them away, whenever they come near
me. If such spoiled ones do not grow up mischievous, and immensely
troublesome to their parents, and to society at large, it will only be
through the merciful interposition of Divine grace.
“I could give you a score of illustrations on the subject, but you are
nodding, Mr. Boomerang, which shews that you have had enough of it,
and I must beg pardon for keeping you so late. I declare it is past
midnight.”
“You have not far to walk home, however,” continued Mr. Wobble, as
I buttoned on my overcoat, and walked to the door. “But stay, sir, take
my knobby stick, to keep the street dogs from picking your bones on the
way. By the by, I wish you could add to the present Dog Act a little
clause, making it compulsory on owners of curs to chain them up, or
hang them. Then equestrians would run less risk of having their necks
broken, and pedestrians of having their legs bitten, and everybody's ears
would be relieved of an intolerable nocturnal discord, equalled only by
the screams of the prowling cats that infest this locality, and so
frequently spoil my repose.
“I have often thought of extemporising a cataract of scalding hot water
from my bedroom window on to the screeching toms and tabbies
beneath; but it would probably damage the fur of the animals, and if they
happened to be pets their owners might be pettish, and sue me for
damages.”
“Good night, Mr. Wobble,” said I as I shook my old friend's hand.
“Don't stand any longer in the open doorway talking about cats, or you'll
catch catarrh.”