'A great many, Queen Esther. All creation, nearly, preys on some other part of creation—except that respectable number that are granivorous, and herbivorous, and graminivorous.'
Esther stood before the owl, musing; and Dallas, who was studying the child now, watched her.
'But what I want to know, is,' began Esther, as if she were carrying on an argument, 'why those that eat flesh look so much more wicked than the others that eat other things?'
'Do they?' said Dallas. 'That is the first question.'
'Why, yes,' said Esther, 'they do, Pitt. If you will think. There are sheep and cows and rabbits, and doves and chickens'—
'Halt there!' cried Dallas. 'Chickens are as good flesh-eaters as anybody, and as cruel about it, too. See two chickens pulling at the two ends of one earthworm.'
'Oh, don't!' said Esther. 'I remember they do; and they haven't nice eyes either, Pitt. But little turkeys have.'
Dallas burst out laughing.
'Well, just think,' Esther persisted. 'Think of horses' beautiful eyes; and then think of a tiger.'
'Or a cat,' said Dallas.