"Oh--come in, Stubbins," said he, "did you wish to speak to me?
Come in and take a chair."

"Doctor," I said, "I want to be a naturalist--like you--when I
grow up."

"Oh you do, do you?" murmured the Doctor. "Humph!--Well!--Dear
me!--You don't say!--Well, well! Have, you er--have you spoken
to your mother and father about it?"

"No, not yet," I said. "I want you to speak to them for me. You
would do it better. I want to be your helper--your assistant, if
you'll have me. Last night my mother was saying that she didn't
consider it right for me to come here so often for meals. And
I've been thinking about it a good deal since. Couldn't we make
some arrangement--couldn't I work for my meals and sleep here?"

"But my dear Stubbins," said the Doctor, laughing, "you are quite
welcome to come here for three meals a day all the year round.
I'm only too glad to have you. Besides, you do do a lot of work,
as it is. I've often felt that I ought to pay you for what you
do--But what arrangement was it that you thought of?"

"Well, I thought," said I, "that perhaps you would come and see
my mother and father and tell them that if they let me live here
with you and work hard, that you will teach me to read and write.
You see my mother is awfully anxious to have me learn reading and
writing. And besides, I couldn't be a proper naturalist without,
could I?"