him the meaning of the words as he writes them, and, besides,
telling him as much as I know of natural history and my travels."

"And what is to become of the boy then?" cried my aunt. "I will not
have him turn idler, Richard."

"Well, if you think I have turned idler, Sophy," he said laughing, and
showing his white teeth, "all I can say is, that idling over natural
history and travelling is very hard work."

"But the boy must not run wild as--"

"I did? There, say it out, Sophy," said her brother. "I don't mind, my
dear; some people look upon everything they do not understand as
idling."

"I think I understand what is good for that boy," said my aunt shortly.

"Of course you do," said the doctor, "and you think it will do him good
to help me a bit, Sophy. Come along, Nat, my boy, we are to have the
back-room for the chests, so we must make ready, for they will be here
to-morrow."

"Oh, Doctor Burnett," I cried as soon as we were alone.

"Suppose you call me Uncle Richard for the future, my boy," he said.
"By and by, when we get to know each other better, it will be Uncle
Dick. Why not at once, eh?"

"I--I shouldn't like to call you that, sir," I said.

"Why not?"

"I--I hardly know, sir, only that you seem so clever and to know so
much."

"Then it shall be Uncle Dick at once," he said, laughing merrily; "for
every day that you are with me, Nat, you will be finding out more and
more that I am not so clever as you think."

So from that day it was always Uncle Dick, and as soon as the great
chests arrived we set to work.

I shall never forget those great rough boxes made of foreign wood, nor
the intense interest with which I watched them as they were carried in
upon the backs of the stout railway vanmen and set carefully in the
large back-room.

There were twenty of them altogether, and some were piled upon the
others as if they were building stones, till at last the men's book had
been signed, the money paid for carriage, and Uncle Joe, Uncle Dick, and
I sat there alone staring at the chests and wondering at their
appearance.

For they were battered, and bruised, and chipped away in splinters, so
that they looked very old indeed, though, as my uncle told me, there was
not one there more than five years old, though they might have been
fifty.

Every one had painted upon it in large white letters:

"Dr Burnett, FZS, London," and I wondered what FZS might mean. Then I
noticed that the chests