Mulberry Court."

"Maybe! I'd like a peep at something else, though."

"Maybe some day you'll be having it," returned the sea captain
jocosely. "Who knows! I may be taking you to India with me when you're
older."

"_Frederick!_" came from Mrs. McGregor in a horrified tone.

"You wouldn't like to see the shaver starting off for India, Nellie?
And why not?" laughed her brother. "India is a fine country. Besides,
traveling the world is a great way to study its geography. I'll be
willing to wager, now, that not one of these older children, though
they have been to school since they were knee high, could tell me
offhand where the Suez Canal is."

Consternation greeted the assertion and there was dead silence.

"There! What did I tell you?" returned Captain Dillingham triumphantly.
"And should I try them on the Bay of Biscay or the Ganges it would be
no better."

The stillness was oppressive.

"Aren't there--didn't I read somewhere that there are crocodiles in the
Ganges?" Carl managed to stammer.

His uncle chuckled.

"There's hope for you, son," he answered. "To know there are crocodiles
in the Ganges is something. Perhaps I shall make a tourist of you yet.
But you will have to know a little more about this globe of ours before
I can do it, I'm afraid."

"I hate geography," announced Tim, who had been listening and now with
disconcerting frankness proclaimed his aversion in no uncertain terms.
"All it is is little squares of color."

Captain Dillingham glanced toward his sister and met her wry smile.

"That's what books do for you," acclaimed he. "They make the romance of
the Orient nothing but patchwork." Then to Tim he continued, "I can
teach you better geography than that, laddie. Countries aren't just
little pieces of pink, yellow, or blue paper laid together. They are
people, rivers, mountains; tea, sugar, and cotton; ivory, elephants,
and carved temples."

The children had drawn closer around his knee.

"Tell us about the elephants," pleaded Tim, with shining eyes.

"There, you see! You are begging already for a lesson in
geography--much as you dislike it!" teased his uncle.

"There can be no geography lessons now," objected Mrs. McGregor. "The
steak is done and mustn't be spoiled with waiting. Show your uncle
where to sit, Mary. And, Timmie, bring the salt. It's been forgotten.
You'll have to bring a chair from my room, Martin. Remember James
Frederick and go on your toes."

"Now, Frederick,"