supposing I did a whole lot more work for the Doctor--why
couldn't I come and live here altogether? You see, instead of
being paid like a regular gardener or workman, I would get my bed
and meals in exchange for the work I did. What do you think?"

"You mean you want to be a proper assistant to the Doctor, is
that it?"

"Yes. I suppose that's what you call it," I answered. "You know
you said yourself that you thought I could be very useful to
him."

"Well"--she thought a moment--"I really don't see why not. But is
this what you want to be when you grow up, a naturalist?"

"Yes," I said, "I have made up my mind. I would sooner be a
naturalist than anything else in the world."

"Humph!--Let's go and speak to the Doctor about it," said
Polynesia. "He's in the next room--in the study. Open the door
very gently--he may be working and not want to be disturbed."

I opened the door quietly and peeped in. The first thing I saw
was an enormous black retriever dog sitting in the middle of the
hearth-rug with his ears cocked up, listening to the Doctor who
was reading aloud to him from a letter.

"What is the Doctor doing?" I asked Polynesia in a whisper.

"Oh, the dog has had a letter from his mistress and he has