In England, and America, and Africa, and Asia, the little folks may
be paragons of virtue, I know little about them.

But in Australia a model child is--I say it not without
thankfulness--an unknown quantity.

It may be that the miasmas of naughtiness develop best in the
sunny brilliancy, of our atmosphere. It may be that the land and
the people are young-hearted together, and the children's spirits not
crushed and saddened by the shadow of long years' sorrowful
history.

There is a lurking sparkle of joyousness and rebellion and mischief
in nature here, and therefore in children.

Often the light grows dull and the bright colouring fades to
neutral tints in the dust and heat of the day. But when it
survives play-days and school-days, circumstances alone determine
whether the electric sparkle shall go to play will-o'-the-wisp
with the larrikin type, or warm the breasts of the spirited,
single-hearted, loyal ones who alone can "advance Australia."

Enough of such talk. Let me tell you about my seven select
spirits. They are having nursery tea at the present moment with
a minimum of comfort and a maximum of noise, so if you can bear a
deafening babel of voices and an unmusical clitter-clatter of
crockery I will take you inside the room and introduce them to
you.

Nursery tea is more an English institution than an Australian one;