“It never can be good fun to see any creature in misery,” replied Minnie; and with the help of a little twig, in a very short time poor Sipsyrup was released from the web.
“Poor little bee!” said Minnie, “it has hurt its wing, and some of the web is still clinging to its legs. I am afraid that it cannot fly.”
“I hope that it will sting you!” laughed Tom. “Are you going to nurse and pet it here, and get up an hospital for sick bees?”
“I think that it must belong to our school-mistress’s hive. I will carry it there, and put it by the opening, and let its companions take care of it.” And notwithstanding Tom’s scornful laugh, Minnie bore off the bee on her finger.
“You are the most absurd girl that I ever knew,” said he on her return. “What does it matter to you what becomes of one bee? I should not mind smothering a whole hive!”
“Ah, Tom,” said his sister, “when there is so much pain in the world, I do not think that one would willingly add ever so little to it. And I have a particular feeling about animals. You know that they were placed under man, and given to man, and they were all so happy until—until man sinned; now, innocent as they are, they share his punishment of pain and of death; and it seems hard that we should make that punishment more bitter!”
“Then my tender-hearted sister would never taste mutton, I suppose.”
“No; the sheep are given to us for food; but I would make them as happy as I could while they lived. O Tom, we are commanded in the Bible to be ‘tender-hearted,’ and ‘merciful,’ and surely to be cruel is a grievous sin!”
