[CHAPTER I.]
THE CRUEL BOY.
"EDDY! please don't hurt so. I can't bear to see you!" sobbed little Susy, wiping her eyes with the back of her fat hand.
"What a baby you are, to cry just for these little fishes," replied Eddy, in a contemptuous tone. "I don't believe they can feel anything."
"They do! they do! See how they kick about."
Eddy laughed aloud, "ha! ha! ha! who ever heard of fishes kicking? Now here's a fat fellow, I'll cut him up, and see him kick."
Susy, with a fresh burst of tears ran toward the house.
"What's the matter, my dear?" inquired her aunt, coming to the door.
The child hung her head. She did not like to complain of her cousin, but as the lady insisted, and asked again, "Where is Eddy? What is he doing?" she began,—
"We went down to the brook and a boy was there catching little mite of fishes; and when he had done, he gave us some to fry for our dinner, but Eddy said he didn't want to eat them, so he put them on a board and chopped 'em all up with his hatchet."