"Beautiful one," I said, "I am delighted to hear that your appetite matches your perfect body, and now before you go please let me say something to you."
"Certainly, Pony friend," she replied, turning her mild eyes on me.
"It is about something a toad told me," I said, "old Hoppy Go-Slow. I suppose you don't know him."
"I don't care for reptiles," she said a little ungraciously, "nor any creature who can live either on land or in the water. They seem unnatural to me, and I have no acquaintances among them."
"Now, graceful one," I said cautiously and admiringly, "I see you are sensitive, but please do not be offended with me. I just wish to ask you why you jump on snakes and destroy them."
She shuddered. "I can not tell. I hate them. Do you think I am wrong?"
"Snakes do much good to the farmer," I said. "Don't you know that they eat insect pests that are injurious to plant life?"
"I have heard that," she replied carelessly. "It did not impress me."
"A snake loves to live," I went on. "Why kill him?"
"Do they suffer?" she asked in a horrified tone. "Do they feel as I do when the hunters drive me through the bush?"