Miss Newman. I am sure I should have been very angry indeed; and, I think, not without a cause.
Miss Smith. He is always doing mischief, I think. It was but on Friday, when he came to see us, that he killed my canary bird, by putting a shot in the place where the seeds were, which stuck in its throat, and it died in a few minutes.
Miss Clark. And what did he say, when he saw he had killed it?
Miss Smith. He only laughed, and said he did not know it could not eat shot.
Miss Wilson. Perhaps he took it for an ostrich, and thought it could eat lead and iron. I do not wonder at it; for, in my opinion, he is foolish enough to think any thing.
Miss Huntley. I have been looking at your squirrel, Miss Bentley, for some time; will you be kind enough to tell me where you got it? O, I remember, you said
your brother sent it you, so it cannot be the same; but every mark on it is exactly like mine.
Miss Bentley. Suppose I write to him, and ask him where he got it. I assure you, if it is yours, you shall have it. I dare say my brother got it fairly.
Miss Huntley. My dear Louisa, I would not take it from you on any account: I only wish to know that it has not died a violent death.