‘Miss Molly, as William used to call him with more propriety,’ said Claude, ‘not half so well worth playing with as such a fellow as Redgie.’ ‘Not even for young ladies?’ said Emily. ‘No, Phyllis and Ada are much the better for being teased,’ said Claude. ‘I am convinced that I never did my duty by you in that respect.’ ‘There were others to do it for you,’ said Jane. ‘Harry never teased,’ said Emily, ‘and William scorned us.’ ‘His teasing was all performed upon Claude,’ said Lily, ‘and a great shame it was.’ ‘Not at all,’ said Claude, ‘only an injudicious attempt to put a little life into a tortoise.’ ‘A bad comparison,’ said Lily; ‘but what is all this? Here come the children in dismay! What is the matter, my dear child?’ This was addressed to Phyllis, who was the first to come up at full speed, sobbing, and out of breath, ‘Oh, the dragon-fly! Oh, do not let him kill it!’ ‘The dragon-fly, the poor dear blue dragon-fly!’ screamed Adeline, hiding her face in Emily’s lap, ‘Oh, do not let him kill it! he is holding it; he is hurting it! Oh, tell him not!’ ‘I caught it,’ said Phyllis, ‘but not to have it killed. Oh, take it away!’ ‘A fine rout, indeed, you chicken,’ said Reginald; ‘I know a fellow who ate up five horse-stingers one morning before breakfast.’ ‘Stingers!’ said Phyllis, ‘they do not sting anything, pretty creatures.’ ‘I told you I would catch the old pony and put it on him to try,’ said Reginald. In the meantime, Maurice came up at his leisure, holding his prize by the wings. ‘Look what a beautiful Libellulla Puella,’ said he to Jane. ‘A demoiselle dragon-fly,’ said Lily; ‘what a beauty! what are you going to do with it?’ ‘Put it into my museum,’ said Maurice. ‘Here, Jane, put it under this flower-pot, and take care of it, while I fetch something to kill it with.’ ‘Oh, Maurice, do not!’ said Emily. ‘One good squeeze,’ said Reginald. ‘I will do it.’ ‘How came you be so cruel?’ said Lily. ‘No, a squeeze will not do,’ said Maurice; ‘it would spoil its beauty; I must put it ever the fumes of carbonic acid.’ ‘Maurice, you really must not,’ said Emily. ‘Now do not, dear Maurice,’ said Ada, ‘there’s a dear boy; I will give you such a kiss.’ ‘Nonsense; get out of the way,’ said Maurice, turning away. ‘Now, Maurice, this is most horrid cruelty,’ said Lily; ‘what right have you to shorten the brief, happy life which—’ ‘Well,’ interrupted Maurice, ‘if you make such a fuss about killing it, I will stick a pin through it into a cork, and let it shift for itself.’ Poor Phyllis ran away to the other end of the garden, sat down and sobbed, Ada screamed and argued, Emily complained, Lily exhorted Claude to interfere, while Reginald stood laughing. ‘Such useless cruelty,’ said Emily. ‘Useless!’ said Maurice. ‘Pray how is any one to make a collection of natural objects without killing things?’ ‘I do not see the use of a collection,’ said Lily; ‘you can examine the creatures and let them go.’