not satisfied then, I will go away and charge nothing for it."

The man looked at him keenly.

"I will at any rate give you a trial," he said. Then he went to the door
and called in the sailor. "This lad tells me he can stuff birds. I know
nothing about him, but I believe he is speaking truthfully. If you like
to intrust them to him he will do his best. If you're not satisfied he
will make no charge."

Much pleased at seeing a way out of his dilemma, the sailor placed the
dead animals on the counter.

"Now," the old man said to Frank, "you can take these out into the back
yard and skin them. Then you can go to work in that back room. You will
find arsenical soap, cotton wool, wires, and everything else you require
there. This has been a fine cat," he said, looking at the animal.

"Yes, it has been a splendid creature," Frank answered. "It is a
magnificent macaw also."

"Ah! you know it is a macaw!" the old man said.

"Of course," Frank said simply; "it has a tail."

The old man then furnished Frank with two or three sharp knives and
scissors. Taking the bird and cat, he went out into the yard and in the
course of an hour had skinned them both. Then he returned to the shop
and set to work in the room behind.

"May I make a group of them?" he asked.

"Do them just as you like," the old man said.

After settling upon his subject, Frank set to work, and, except that
he went out for five minutes to buy and eat a penny loaf, continued his
work till nightfall. The old man came in several times to look at him,
but each time went out again without making a remark. At six o'clock
Frank laid down his tools.

"I will come again tomorrow, sir," he said.

The old man nodded, and Frank went home in high spirits. There was a
prospect at last of getting something to do, and that in a line most
congenial to his own tastes.

The old man looked up when he entered next morning.

"I shall not come in today," he remarked. "I will wait to see them
finished."

Working without interruption till the evening, Frank finished them to
his satisfaction, and enveloped them with many wrappings of thread to
keep them in precisely the attitudes in which he had placed them.

"They are ready for drying now, sir," he said. "If I might place them in
an oven they would be dried by morning."

The old man led the way to the kitchen, where a small fire was burning.

"I shall put no more coals on the fire," he said, "and it will be out in
a