CHAPTER II. FIRST LESSONS IN THE ART OF INSTRUCTION

ation. “Nowyoumustputonyourbonnetandshawl,”saidthelittlehero,“andI’llshowyoumygarden.” “Andmine,”saidMaryAnn. Tomliftedhisfistwithamenacinggesturesheutteredaloud,shrillscream,rantotheothersideofme,andmadeafaceathim. “Surely,Tom,youwouldnotstrikeyoursister!IhopeIshallneverseeyoudothat.” “Youwillsometimes:I’mobligedtodoitnowandthentokeepherinorder.” “Butitisnotyourbusinesstokeepherinorder,youknow—thatisfor—” “Well,nowgoandputonyourbonnet.” “Idon’tknow—itissoverycloudyandcold,itseemslikelytorain—andyouknowIhavehadalongdrive.” “Nomatter—youmustcomeIshallallowofnoexcuses,”repliedtheconsequentiallittlegentleman.And,asitwasthefirstdayofouracquaintance,IthoughtImightaswellindulgehim.ItwastoocoldforMaryAnntoventure,soshestayedwithhermamma,tothegreatreliefofherbrother,wholikedtohavemealltohimself. Thegardenwasalargeone,andtastefullylaidoutbesidesseveralsplendiddahlias,thereweresomeotherfineflowersstillinbloom:butmycompanionwouldnotgivemetimetoexaminethem:Imustgowithhim,acrossthewetgrass,toaremotesequesteredcorner,themostimportantplaceinthegrounds,becauseitcontainedhisgarden.Thereweretworoundbeds,stockedwithavarietyofplants.Inonetherewasaprettylittlerose-tree.Ipausedtoadmireitslovelyblossoms. “Oh,nevermindthat!”saidhe,contemptuously.“That’sonlyMaryAnn’sgardenlook,THISismine.” AfterIhadobservedeveryflower,andlistenedtoadisquisitiononeveryplant,Iwaspermittedtodepartbutfirst,withgreatpomp,hepluckedapolyanthusandpresentedittome,asoneconferringaprodigiousfavour.Iobserved,onthegrassabouthisgarden,certainapparatusofsticksandcorn,andaskedwhattheywere. “Trapsforbirds.” “Whydoyoucatchthem?” “Papasaystheydoharm.” “Andwhatdoyoudowiththemwhenyoucatchthem?” “Differentthings.SometimesIgivethemtothecatsometimesIcuttheminpieceswithmypenknifebutthenext,Imeantoroastalive.” “Andwhydoyoumeantodosuchahorriblething?” “Fortworeasons:first,toseehowlongitwilllive—andthen,toseewhatitwilltastelike.” “Butdon’tyouknowitisextremelywickedtodosuchthings?Remember,thebirdscanfeelaswellasyouandthink,howwouldyoulikeityourself?” “Oh,that’snothing!I’mnotabird,andIcan’tfeelwhatIdotothem.” “Butyouwillhavetofeelitsometime,Tom:youhaveheardwherewickedpeoplegotowhentheydieandifyoudon’tleaveofftorturinginnocentbirds,remember,youwillhavetogothere,andsufferjustwhatyouhavemadethemsuffer.” “Oh,pooh!Ishan’t.Papaknowsh