duly placed in the museum, where it really looked very
well. Not long after, however, we began to notice a most peculiar odour
in the school-room.

"It's the flowers!" said Cathy, sniffing at a vase, and throwing the
water out of the window. "They always get nasty if you leave them too
long."

"It smells to me more like a dead mouse," I declared. "Perhaps one may
have had a funeral inside the wall;" and, dropping on my knees, I crept
round the room, scenting the skirting-boards like a pointer. In spite of
my efforts I was not able to fix the spot, and as Cathy turned out a
potful of sour paste which we had forgotten in the cupboard, and found
a pile of stale mushrooms in the pocket of George's coat, which was
hanging behind the door, we came to the conclusion that it might be
either of these.

But the odour did not improve, and by the next day it had become almost
unbearable. Even the boys perceived it, and that is saying something. We
all went round the room, sniffing in every corner, and trying to find
the cause of offence, till at length Edward flung open the door of the
cabinet.

"It's your beastly bullfinch!" he declared. "Take the wretched thing
away! It's only half-cured, and smells like a tan-yard! Whew!"

Poor Dick was rather crest-fallen, especially as Edward made it a
subject of chaff for many days; and he grew so huffy about it, that for
some time we did not dare to mention either birds or the collection in
his presence. He came home one day, however, bubbling over with
laughter.

"I've a ripping museum joke for you!" he said. "Beats your old bullfinch
into fits!"

"What's that?" we enquired.

"Why, I was down the village with the governor this morning, and we
dropped into old Mrs. Grainger's. I was telling her a yarn or two about
the Babe's crocodile's egg, and so on, and she turned round to a drawer,
and fished out a piece of pink coral. 'If you like things from furrin'
parts,' says she, 'I'll give you this. My sailor son brought it home
from Singapore on his last voyage. I've heard as coral is all full of
insects, but I've boiled this piece well in a saucepan, so I reckon
it'll be clean enough now!'"

"_Boiled!_" we exclaimed.

"Yes, boiled! To kill the insects, don't you see?"

"Your imaginative faculties, my dear fellow, are considerable," said
Edward. "But you won't get me to swallow that!"

"Fact, all the same!" said Dick. "You ask the governor. You're jealous,
old chap, because you c