“If you want to kill a snake, you don’t have to mash it and hurt it,” he told Tim heatedly. “You like to kill things. Water snakes are harmless––Sam Layton says so. You cut up that other snake ’fore you killed it; and you let me find you doing that to a live snake, or anything else that can feel, and I’ll, I’ll–––”
The bell rang then and Bobby didn’t have time to say what he would do. Tim Roon and Charlie Black walked off toward the school building ignoring Bobby, and the other boys followed, looking a little ashamed. They had 42 watched Tim torture the snake without thinking much about it. If a snake had feelings they had never considered them. And yet they did not mean to be cruel.
Bobby stayed to bury the dead snake. This made him late, and Miss Mason scolded him roundly. Bobby took his seat wishing that he could get even with Tim Roon. That is not a sensible feeling for any one to have, and it never yet made the boy or girl, or grown-up for that matter, who had it, either happy or comfortable.
“I know it is a warm afternoon, and I suppose you find it hard to settle down to work after a summer of play,” said Miss Mason, suddenly looking up from the list of spelling words she was dictating to the second grade that afternoon, “but I do not see any excuse for this incessant noise. James Willard, what have you in that bag?”
“Nothing,” answered James stolidly.
“Nothing! Nonsense, you couldn’t be rattling an empty bag,” snapped Miss Mason. “Bring it to me instantly.” 43
James tramped heavily up the aisle and handed the teacher the bag. It was empty.
“Then you’ve eaten the candy,” said Miss Mason suspiciously. “You may stay after school and fill all the inkwells. Now go to your seat.”
Meg watched James as he took his seat. While he had been at the desk she had seen Charlie Black lean over––he sat directly behind James––and take something from James’ seat. It was a large lump of yellow taffy.
“He can’t eat it,” thought Meg. “He’ll have to wait till after school. Poor James won’t dare say a word.”