wordfish's sword and a sawfish's saw making a
trophy on the top. Terry is in the library, hunting material for a
dissertation upon the ancient unicorn, which ought to conclude with
the battle royal witnessed by Alice in Wonderland. The stuffed
department is numerous but in a bad way as to hair, and chiefly
consists of everybody's grandmother's old parrots and squirrels and
white rats. Then, every boy, who ever had a fit of birds' eggs or
butterflies, has sent in a collection, chiefly minus the lower
wings, and with volunteer specimens of moth; but luckily some give
leave to do what they please with them, so the magician is making
composition animals with the debris."

"Not really!"

"I made a feeble attempt with an admiral's wings and an orange tip,
but I was scouted. About four dilapidated ones make up a proper
specimen, and I can't think how it is all to be done in the time;
but really something fit to be seen is emerging. Terry is sorting
the coins, a pretty job, I should say; but felicity to him. But oh!
the industrial articles! There are all the regalia, carved out of
cherry-stones, and a patchwork quilt of 5000 bits of silk each no
bigger than a shilling. And a calculation of the middle verse in
the Bible, and the longest verse, and the shortest verse, and the
like edifying Scriptural researches, all copied out like flies'
legs, in writing no one can see but Julius with his spectacles off,
and set in a brooch as big as the top of a thimble, all done by a
one-legged sergeant of marines. So that the line might not be out
done, I offered my sergeant-major's banner-screen, but I am sorry to
say they declined it, which made me jealous."

"Are there any drawings of the Reynolds' boy?"

"Yes, Lenore Vivian brought them down, and very good they are.
Every one says he has the making of a genius, but he does not look
as if it agreed with him; he is grown tall, and thin, and white, and
I should not wonder if those good-for-nothing servants bullied him."

"Did you see anything of Eleonora?"

"Nothing so impossible. I meet her every day, but she is always
beset with the Strangeways, and I think she avoids me."

"I can hardly think so."

"I don't like it! That man is always hanging about Sirenwood, and
Lenore never stirs an inch without one of those girls. I wish Frank
could see for himself, poor fellow."

"He does hope to run down next week. I have just heard from him in
high spirits. One of his senio