It was on a bright sunny day in July that my uncle and I jumped into a
cab and bade the man drive us to the old house, where I had passed so
many happy as well as unhappy days.
"We will not stop to go and see barbers or to dress, Nat, but go and
take them by surprise," said my uncle; and for the first time I began to
wonder whether I had altered.
"Am I very much more sunburnt than I used to be?" I said suddenly, as
we drew near the door.
"Well, you are not quite black," he said laughing, "but you have
altered, Nat, since they saw you last."
How my heart beat as we walked up to the front door, where the maid, a
stranger, stared at us, and said that her mistress was out, and looked
suspiciously at us, evidently, as she afterwards owned, taking us for
sailor fellows with parrots and silk things for sale.
"Where's Uncle Joseph?" I said sharply.
"Oh, please, sir, are you Master Nathaniel, who's far away at sea?" she
cried.
"I am Nathaniel," I said laughing, "but I'm not far away at sea.
Where's Uncle Joe?"
"He's down the garden, sir, smoking his pipe in the tool-house," said
the girl smiling; and I dashed through the drawing-room, jumped down the
steps, and ran to the well-remembered spot, to find dear old Uncle Joe
sitting there with all my treasures carefully dusted but otherwise
untouched; and as I stood behind him and clapped my hands over his eyes,
there was he with poor old Humpty Dumpty before him.
"Who--who's that?" he cried.
"Guess!" I shouted.
"I--I can't guess," he said. "I don't know you. Let go or I shall call
for help."
"Why, Uncle Joe!" I cried, taking away my hands and clasping his.
He stared at me from top to toe, and at last said in a trembling voice:
"You're not my boy Nat?"
"But indeed I am, uncle," I cried.
"My boy Nat _was a boy_," he said nervously, "not a big six-foot fellow
with a gruff voice, and--my dear Dick. Why, then, it is Nat after all."
The old man hugged me in his arms, and was ready to shed weak tears, for
Uncle Dick had followed me and was looking on.
"Why, why, why--what have you been doing to him, Dick?" cried Uncle Joe
excitedly. "Here, he can't be our Nat, and he has got a man's voice,
and he is bigger than me, and he is nearly black. Why, here's Sophy--
Sophy, dear, who's this?"
I caught her in my arms and kissed her, and she too stared at me in
surprise, for I suppose I had altered wonderfully, though in my busy
life of travel I had taken little note of the change.
It was very pleasant to settle down once more in quiet and sort our
specimens, or tell Uncle Joe of all our dangers by land and sea; but
after a time, although Aunt Sophia was now very kind and different to
what she had been of old, there came a strong feeling upon me at times
that I should once more like to be wandering amidst the beautiful
islands of the Eastern Seas, watching the wondrous beauties of the world
beneath the shallow waters, or the glorious greens of the trees upon the
tropic shores. The boy who loves nature goes on loving nature to the
end, for I may say that Uncle Dick spoke the truth when he said that I
ought to be called Nat the Naturalist, for I feel that I am Nat the
Naturalist still.
"Uncle Dick," I said one day, "shall we ever have another trip together
collecting birds?"
"Time proves all things, my boy," he said; "wait and see."