"Back to South America, Dick?"
"No, my dear boy, I shall go in another direction this time."
"Where shall you go this time, sir?" I said eagerly.
"Eh? where shall I go, squire?" he said sharply. "Right away to Borneo
and New Guinea, wherever I am likely to collect specimens and find new
varieties."
"Do you collect, sir?" I said excitedly.
"To be sure I do, my boy. Do you?" he added with a smile.
"Yes, sir, all I can."
"Oh yes! he has quite a wonderful collection down in the tool-house,
Richard. Come and see."
Our visitor smiled in such a contemptuous way that I coloured up again,
and felt as if I should have liked to cry, "You sha'n't see them to make
fun of my work." But by that time we were at the tool-house door, and
just inside was my cabinet full of drawers that uncle had let the
carpenter make for me, and my cases and boxes, and the birds I had
stuffed. In fact by that time, after a couple of years collecting, the
tools had been ousted to hang in another shed, and the tool-house was
pretty well taken up with my lumber.
"Why, hallo!" cried our visitor; "who stuffed those birds?"