s examined the queer stone-bug, that looked so old and gray, he told
them how it came out of the wrappings of a mummy, after lying for ages
in a famous tomb. Finding them interested, he went on to tell about the
Egyptians, and the strange and splendid ruins they have left behind them
the Nile, and how he sailed up the mighty river, with the handsome dark
men to work his boat; how he shot alligators, saw wonderful beasts and
birds; and afterwards crossed the desert on a camel, who pitched him
about like a ship in a storm.

"Uncle Teddy tells stories 'most as well as Grandpa," said Demi,
approvingly, when the tale was done, and the boys' eyes asked for more.

"Thank you," said Mr. Laurie, quite soberly, for he considered Demi's
praise worth having, for children are good critics in such cases, and to
suit them is an accomplishment that any one may be proud of.

"Here's another trifle or two that I tucked into my pocket as I was
turning over my traps to see if I had any thing that would amuse Dan,"
and Uncle Teddy produced a fine arrow-head and a string of wampum.

"Oh! tell about the Indians," cried Demi, who was fond of playing
wigwam.

"Dan knows lots about them," added Nat.

"More than I do, I dare say. Tell us something," and Mr. Laurie looked
as interested as the other two.

"Mr. Hyde told me; he's been among 'em, and can talk their talk,
and likes 'em," began Dan, flattered by their attention, but rather
embarrassed by having a grown-up listener.

"What is wampum for?" asked curious Demi, from his perch.

The others asked questions likewise, and, before he knew it, Dan was
reeling off all Mr. Hyde had told him, as they sailed down the river
a few weeks before. Mr. Laurie listened well, but found the boy more
interesting than the Indians, for Mrs. Jo had told him about Dan, and
he rather took a fancy to the wild lad, who ran away as he himself
had often longed to do, and who was slowly getting tamed by pain and
patience.

"I've been thinking that it would be a good plan for you fellows to have
a museum of your own; a place in which to collect all the curious and
interesting things that you find, and make, and have given you. Mrs. Jo
is too kind to complain, but it is rather hard for her to have the house
littered up with all sorts of rattletraps, half-a-pint of dor-bugs in
one of her best vases, for instance, a couple of dead bats nailed up in
the back entry, wasps nests tumbling down on people's heads, and