Spats

This delightful piece appeared in the Christian Conservator magazine in January 1900.

We never so plainly exemplify the fact that we are but children of a larger growth as when we indulge in those pettish half-way quarrels dominated by courtesy "spats." Prompted by temper or ill-health, they bloom into just such a condition of affairs as when one child says to another, "I hate you. I never mean to speak to you again," and snatching up her doll rags, she departs in a huff to return but an hour later in smiles and forgetfulness of the late unpleasantness.

Husbands and wives, lovers, friends--all at some time or another break out into a childish exhibition of whimsical unreasonableness and say nasty little mean things that haven't the dignity of a real grievance, but which smart and sting nevertheless both at the time and in retrospect. On such occasions a wife will say, "I wish I had never married you." And friends will contrive to rake up some disagreeable reminiscence that they couldn't for the world mention if this "spat" had not occurred.