But Florence did not reply; instead she picked up the magnifying-glass, and, gazing through it at a pickle jar of mixed beetles, caterpillars, angleworms, and potato bugs, permitted herself to shudder. "Vile things!" she said. "They are not, either!" Herbert retorted hotly. "They're about the finest insecks that you or anybody else ever saw, and you ought to be ashamed----" "I ought?" his cousin cried. "Well, I should think you're the one ought to be ashamed, if anybody ought! Down here in the cellar playin' with all these vile bugs that ought to be given their liberty, or thrown down the sewer, or somep'n!" Again, as she peered through the lens, she shuddered. "Vile----" "Florence," he said sternly, "you lay down that magnifying-glass." "Why?" "Because you don't know how to handle it. A magnifying-glass has got to be handled in just the right way, and you couldn't learn if you tried a thousand years. That's a mighty fine magnifying-glass, and I don't intend to have it ruined." "Why, just lookin' through it can't spoil it, can it?" she inquired, surprised. "You lay it down," said Herbert darkly. "Lookin' through it the wrong way isn't going to do it any _good_." "Why, how could just _lookin'_ through it----" "Lookin' through it the wrong way isn't goin' to _help_ it any, I tell you!" he insisted. "You're old enough to know that, and I'm not goin' to have my magnifying-glass spoiled and all my insecks wasted just because of a mere whin of yours!" "A what?" "A mere whin, I said!" "What's a whin?" "Never you mind," said Herbert ominously. "You'll proba'ly find out some day when you aren't expectin' to!" Undeniably, Florence was somewhat impressed: she replaced the magnifying-glass upon the table and picked up the notebook. "You lay that down, too," said Herbert instantly. "Oh, maybe it's somep'n you're _'shamed_ to----" "Go on and read it, then," he said, suddenly changing his mind, for he was confident that she would find matter here that might cause her to appreciate at least a little of her own inferiority. "'Nots'," Florence began. "'Nots'----" "Notes!" he corrected her fiercely. "'Notes'," she read. "'Notes on our inseck friends. The spidder----'" "_Spider!_" "'The spider spends his time mostly in cobwebs which he digilently spins between posts and catches flies to eat them. They are different coloured and sizes and have legs in pairs. Spiders also spin their webs in corners or in weeds or on a fence and sometimes in the grass. They are more able to get about quicker than catapillars or fishing worms, but cannot fly such as pinching bugs, lightning bugs, and birds because having no wings, nor jump as far as the grass hoper----'" "Grasshopper!" Herbert shouted. "I'm readin' it the way it's spelled," Florence explained. "Anyway, it don't make much sense." Herbert was at least enough of an author to be furious. "Lay it down!" he said bitterly. "And go on back home to your dolls."