of a great snail shell
that was nearly white, and had belonged to one of the molluscs used by
the Romans for their soup.

Among other things was an enormous frog, which was kept alive in some
fresh damp moss stuffed into a fig drum, into which a certain number of
unfortunate flies were thrust every day through a hole, filled directly
after by a peg. Whether those flies were eaten by the frog, or whether
they got out again, I never knew, but Mercer had perfect faith in their
being consumed.

Just about this time, too, my chosen companion got in debt.

It was in this wise. We went down the garden one day, talking very
earnestly about how long it was before the gloves needed for our lessons
came down, wondering, too, that we had never been able to catch sight of
the old sergeant, when Mercer suddenly became aware of the fact that
Magglin, who was hoeing weeds, was also making mysterious signs to us to
go round to his side of the garden; and when we reached him he whispered
to my companion, after looking cautiously round to see that we were not
observed,--

"You don't want to buy a ferret, do you, Master Mercer?"

"Yes," cried the latter eagerly; "I do want a ferret to hunt the rats in
the stable. No, I don't," he said sadly; "I haven't got any money."

"You not got no money!" said the gipsy-looking fellow. "Oh, I like
that, and you a gentleman."

"How much is it?" said Mercer.

"Oh, only five shillin'. It's like giving it away, only a chap I know
wants some money, and he ast me to see if any of the young gents would
like to buy it."

"'Tisn't your old ferret, then?"

"Oh no, sir; I got rid o' that long enough ago, because I thought people
would say I kep' it to catch rabbids. They are so disagreeable. But
this is an out and outer to catch rabbids," he whispered.

"But five shillings is such a lot of money for a ferret, Magg."

"Lot! Well, there! It's giving of it away. Why, if I wanted such a
thing, and had the chance to get such a good one as this, I'd give ten
shillin' for it."

"But is it a good one, Magg?"

"Splendid. You come and look at it. I've got it in the tool-house in a
watering-pot."

"Let's go and see it, Frank," cried Mercer, and we followed the
slouching-looking fellow into the tool-shed, where a watering-pot stood,
with a piece of slate over the half open top and a piece of brick laid
on that.

"There!" cried Magglin, removing the cover and taking out a
sandy-coloured snaky