“Certainly,” answered Mrs. Burton.
“Then what for doesh you catch pitty little mices in traps an’ kill ’em?”
Mrs. Burton hastened to give the conversation a new direction.
“Because they’re very troublesome,” she said. “And even troublesome people have to be punished when they meddle with other people’s things.”
“We know that, I guess,” interposed Budge, with a sigh.
“But,” said Mrs. Burton, hurrying forward to her point, “the animals have nerves and flesh and blood and bones, just like little boys do, and are just the way the Lord made them.”
“I’ll look for the hoppergrass’s blood next time I pull one’s legsh off,” said Toddie.
“Don’t,” said Mrs. Burton. “You must believe what aunty tells you, and you mustn’t trouble the poor things at all. Why, Toddie, there are real smart men, real good men that everybody respects, that have spent their whole lives in study of insects, like grasshoppers, and flies, and bees——”
“An’ never got stung?” asked Toddie. “How did dey do it?”
“They don’t care if they are stung,” said Mrs. Burton. “They are deeply interested in learning how animals are made. They study all kinds of animals, and try to find out why they are different from people; and they find out that some wee things, like grasshoppers, are more wonderful than any person that ever lived!”