Oh, take it
away!'
'A fine rout, indeed, you chicken,' said Reginald; 'I know a fellow
who ate up five horse-stingers one morning before breakfast.'
'Stingers!' said Phyllis, 'they do not sting anything, pretty
creatures.'
'I told you I would catch the old pony and put it on him to try,'
said Reginald.
In the meantime, Maurice came up at his leisure, holding his prize by
the wings. 'Look what a beautiful Libellulla Puella,' said he to
Jane.
'A demoiselle dragon-fly,' said Lily; 'what a beauty! what are you
going to do with it?'
'Put it into my museum,' said Maurice. 'Here, Jane, put it under
this flower-pot, and take care of it, while I fetch something to kill
it with.'
'Oh, Maurice, do not!' said Emily.
'One good squeeze,' said Reginald. 'I will do it.'
'How came you be so cruel?' said Lily.
'No, a squeeze will not do,' said Maurice; 'it would spoil its
beauty; I must put it ever the fumes of carbonic acid.'
'Maurice, you really must not,' said Emily.
'Now do not, dear Maurice,' said Ada, 'there's a dear boy; I will
give you such a kiss.'
'Nonsense; get out of the way,' said Maurice, turning away.
'Now, Maurice, this is most horrid cruelty,' said Lily; 'what right
have you to shorten the brief, happy life which--'
'Well,' interrupted Maurice, 'if you make such a fuss about killing
it, I will stick a pin through it into a cork, and let it shift for
itself.
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