y little food under the trees, only a very few deer; and so he was
starved, and dwindled down to the poor little sheep-stealing rogue he is
now, of whom nobody is afraid.

Oh, yes! I remember now A. said he and his men killed six in one day.
But do you think it is all true about the pumas and jaguars?

My child, I don't say that it is true: but only that it is likely to be
true. In science we must be cautious and modest, and ready to alter our
minds whenever we learn fresh facts; only keeping sure of one thing, that
the truth, when we find it out, will be far more wonderful than any
notions of ours. See! As we have been talking we have got nearly home:
and luncheon must be ready.

* * * * *

Why are you opening your eyes at me like the dog when he wants to go out
walking?

Because I want to go out. But I don't want to go out walking. I want to
go in the yacht.

In the yacht? It does not belong to me.

Oh, that is only fun. I know everybody is going out in it to see such a
beautiful island full of ferns, and have a picnic on the rocks; and I
know you are going.

Then you know more than I do myself.

But I heard them say you were going.

Then they know more than I do myself.

But would you not like to go?

I might like to go very much indeed; but as I have been knocked about at
sea a good deal, and perhaps more than I intend to be again, it is no
novelty to me, and there might be other things which I liked still
better: for instance, spending the afternoon with you.

Then am I not to go?

I think not. Don't pull such a long face: but be a man, and make up your
mind to it, as the geese do to going barefoot.

But why may I not go?

Because I am not Madam How, but your Daddy.

What can that have to do with it?

If you asked Madam How, do you know what she would answer in a moment, as
civilly and kindly as could be? She would say--Oh yes, go by all means,
and please yourself, my pretty little man. My world is the Paradise
which the Irishman talked of, in which "a man might do what was right in
the sight of his own eyes, and what was wrong too, as he liked it."

Then Madam How would let me go in the yacht?

Of course she would, or jump overboard when you were in it; or put your
finger in the fire, and your head afterwards; or eat Irish spurge, and
die like the salmon; or anything else you liked. Nobody is so indulgent
as Madam How: and she would be the dearest old lady in the world, but fo