th, that before anyone was aware it was nearly seven o'clock.

And now down jumps Veevee and runs towards the door, barking aloud as if
he were a very big dog.

"They're coming! They're coming! Veevee knows!" And coming they were
indeed.

Tom had had a hearty welcome when he arrived, but when this best of
uncles at last managed to sit down on the sofa: "Shiver my timbers,
sister," he said to Mrs. Dunlop, "if it isn't worth while going all the
way to the back of the North Pole just to get such a welcome home as
this."

Jack Staysail was a sailor every inch of him. He had roughed it so much
in the Greenland seas, and been out in so many storms, that his face was
as red as a boiled beet; but his eyes were as full of fun and merriment
as a boy's.

"We're not all here yet," he said. "I have asked my friend, Professor
Peterkin, the Swede, to come in to-night with his mastiff." When their
uncle mentioned the mastiff, Aralia and Pansy began to tremble for
Veevee, but Tom only laughed.

"Why," he said, "although Briton--that's his name--is big enough to
tackle a bear, he wouldn't injure a mouse."

It was nearly nine o'clock when the professor arrived. Briton marched in
first, and a bigger and more noble-looking fellow was never seen. Veevee
said he couldn't stand another dog in the place. So he started up,
barking loudly, and offering to fight the mastiff to the death on the
spot. But Briton stepped gingerly over the little dog, and went and lay
quietly down on the rug.

Then in bustled the professor himself, very droll, very small,
clean-shaven, merry-eyed, and with as much hair on his great head as
would have stuffed a cushion. He bowed and smiled to all, patted the
children, and at last sat down to supper.

All made a very hearty supper, though it was long past the children's
bed-time. Only Uncle didn't come home every night, you know.

When they had finished, Briton had a huge dish of scraps; Veevee sat
watching him eat, and the children were very much surprised to see
Briton shove one of the biggest and best morsels towards him. The tiny
dog picked up the titbit and wagged his tail. After he had eaten it,
he went and lay down beside Briton on the hearth-rug.

The "something nice" that Uncle had to tell was soon told now.
Captain Staysail cleared his throat before he began: "Ahem! Oh,
you're all waiting, are you, to hear what I've got to say? Well,
then--ahem!--Professor Peterkin--"

"Pete--Pete--Pete--Pete!