THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE. 21 



over what was comic, to enthusiasm over some heroic 

 action or splendid victory, and even to tears over some 

 tragic episode ; but throughout the narrative we were 

 learning all about the natural history of beetles in 

 general. On other evenings the stories would be about 

 a butterfly, or ant, or spider, or bluebottle. 



In his earlier life our father was a keen sportsman 

 and capital shot; but he was too much a lover of 

 animals wantonly to deprive them of what he was 

 wont to call " the luxury of life." Lif^ in the meanest 

 of God's creatures he regarded as a sacred thing of 

 which man had no right, except for some good and 

 useful purpose, to deprive them. Anything therefore 

 which savoured of cruelty to any living creature roused 

 his wrath and indignation, and brought down upon the 

 offender a stern rebuke which he was not likely soon to 

 forget. I at least have not forgotten a lesson I was 

 taught when a very small boy. I had caught a fly and 

 proceeded to dismember it, pulling off one leg after 

 another and then the wings. My father coming into 

 the room at the moment caught me red-handed. " For 

 shame ! " he said, " how can you be so cruel to the 

 poor innocent fly ? " Then fetching his microscope he 

 inserted the mutilated remains under the lens and 

 made me look at the still quivering members. " Do 

 you see that," he said, " and do you think the poor fly 

 does not feel ? It does feel just as much perhaps as 

 you would feel, if I were tearing your legs and arms 

 from your body. I hope you are sorry for this, as I 

 am ; but never, never let me see you or hear of you 



