the cats and dogs come
running to the garden-gates whenever they heard his call. Sometimes he
let me give the meat to the animals myself; and I thought this was great
fun. He knew a lot about dogs and he would tell me the names of the
different kinds as we went through the town. He had several dogs of his
own; one, a whippet, was a very fast runner, and Matthew used to win
prizes with her at the Saturday coursing races; another, a terrier,
was a fine ratter. The cat's-meat-man used to make a business of
rat-catching for the millers and farmers as well as his other trade of
selling cat's-meat.

My third great friend was Luke the Hermit. But of him I will tell you
more later on.

I did not go to school; because my father was not rich enough to send
me. But I was extremely fond of animals. So I used to spend my time
collecting birds' eggs and butterflies, fishing in the river, rambling
through the countryside after blackberries and mushrooms and helping the
mussel-man mend his nets.

Yes, it was a very pleasant life I lived in those days long ago--though
of course I did not think so then. I was nine and a half years old; and,
like all boys, I wanted to grow up--not knowing how well off I was with
no cares and nothing to worry me. Always I longed for the time when I
should be allowed to leave my father's house, to take passage in one of
those brave ships, to sail down the river through the misty marshes to
the sea--out into the world to seek my fortune.

THE SECOND CHAPTER. I HEAR OF THE GREAT NATURALIST

ONE early morning in the Springtime, when I was wandering among the
hills at the back of the town, I happened to come upon a hawk with a
squirrel in its claws. It was standing on a rock and the squirrel was
fighting very hard for its life. The hawk was so frightened when I came
upon it suddenly like this, that it dropped the poor creature and flew
away. I picked the squirrel up and found that two of its legs were badly
hurt. So I carried it in my arms back to the town.

When I came to the bridge I went into the musselman's hut and asked him
if he could do anything for it. Joe put on his spectacles and examined
it carefully. Then he shook his head.

"Yon crittur's got a broken leg," he said--"and another badly cut an'
all. I can mend you your boats, Tom, but I haven't the tools nor the
learning to make a broken squirrel seaworthy. This is a job for a
surgeon--and for a right smart one an' all. There be only on