Richmond. "Bunny, you know how you cried when you scratched your legs going blackberrying. Do you suppose the table likes having its legs scratched any better than you do? And those grimy old rugs all over my lace cloth. Martin, take them off at once."
"We were playing Stern Parents," explained Alec, a cousin and less awed by reproof than the other guests, who were merely friends.
Mrs. Richmond was taken aback. "What a queer name for a game."
"It's a lovely game," said Ruth, her face pink with excitement. "You pretend to be Parents and you all get together and talk about the terrible time you have with your children"
Martin broke in: "And you tell each other all the things you've had to scold them for"
"And you have to forbid their doing all kinds of things," said Ben.
"And speak to them Very Seriously," chirped Bunny. Mrs. Richmond felt a twinge of merriment at the echo of this familiar phrase.
"And every time you've punished them for something that doesn't really matter" (this was Phyllis).
"—You're a Stern Parent, and have to disappear!" cried Martin.
