"The Doctor has come to cure my squirrel, Mother," said I. "He
knows all about animals."

"Oh, no," said the Doctor, "not all, Stubbins, not all about them
by any means."

"It is very kind of you to come so far to look after his pet,"
said my mother. "Tom is always bringing home strange creatures
from the woods and the fields."

"Is he?" said the Doctor. "Perhaps he will grow up to be a
naturalist some day. Who knows?"

"Won't you come in?" asked my mother. "The place is a little
untidy because I haven't finished the spring cleaning yet. But
there's a nice fire burning in the parlor."

"Thank you!" said the Doctor. "What a charming home you have!"

And after wiping his enormous boots very, very carefully on the
mat, the great man passed into the house.



THE SIXTH CHAPTER

THE WOUNDED SQUIRREL

INSIDE we found my father busy practising on the flute beside the
fire. This he always did, every evening, after his work was over.