“I didn’t listen after the first bit, it was so stupid,” said Cyril The amaller girl made no actual comment on the story, but she had long ago recommenced a murmured repetition of her favorite line aid the bachelor suddenly”You don’t seem to be a success as a story-teller from his corner, The aunt bristled in instant defense at this unexpected attack. nIt’s a very difficult thing to tell stories that children can both understand and appreciate,” she said stiffly.
“I don’t agree with you,” said the bachelor”Perhaps you would like to tell them a story,” was the aunt’s retort s Tell us a story,” demanded the bigger of the small girls. “Once upon a time,” began the bachelor, there was a little girl called Bertha, who was extraordinarily good.” all The children’s momentarily aroused interest began at once to nickeri, stories seemed dreadfully alike, no matter who told them. “She did all that she was told, she was always truthful, she kept her clothes clean, ate milk puddings as though they were jam tarts”, learned her lessons perfectly, and was polite in her manners.” “Was she pretty?” asked the bigger of the amall girls”Not as pretty as any of you,” said the bachelor, “but she was horribly good.’
There was a wave of reaction in favor of the story; the word horrible in connection with goodness was a novelty that commended itself. It seemed to introduce a ring of truth that was absent from the aunt’s tales of infant life medals for “She was so good,” continued the bachelor, “that she won several medal for goodness, which she always pinned on to her dress. There was a obedience, another medal for punctuality, and a third for good behavior.
They were large metal medals and they clinked” against one another as she walked. No other child in town where she lived had as many as three medals, so everybody knew that she must be an extra good child.” “Horribly good,” quoted Cyril.