high and dry upon the shore by the retreating water. Already, in his
simple way, the little ragged bare-footed Scotch laddie was at heart a
born naturalist.

Very soon, Tam was not content with looking at the "venomous beasts," as
the neighbours called them, but he must needs begin to bring them home,
and set up a small aquarium and zoological garden on his own account.
All was fish that came to Tam's net: tadpoles, newts, and stickleback
from the ponds, beetles from the dung-heaps, green crabs from the sea-
shore--nay, even in time such larger prizes as hedgehogs, moles, and
nestfuls of birds. Nothing delighted him so much as to be out in the
fields, hunting for and taming these his natural pets.

Unfortunately, Tam's father and mother did not share the boy's passion
for nature, and instead of encouraging him in pursuing his inborn taste,
they scolded him and punished him bitterly for bringing home the nasty
creatures. But nothing could win away Tam from the love of the beasties;
and in the end, he had his own way, and lived all his life, as he
himself afterwards beautifully put it, "a fool to nature." Too often,
unhappily, fathers and mothers thus try to check the best impulses in
their children, under mistaken notions of right, and especially is this
the case in many instances as regards the love of nature. Children are
constantly chidden for taking an interest in the beautiful works of
creation, and so have their first intelligent inquiries and aspirations
chilled at once; when a little care and sympathy would get rid of the
unpleasantness of having white mice or lizards crawling about the house,
without putting a stop to the young beginner's longing for more
knowledge of the wonderful and beautiful world in whose midst he lives.

When Tam was nearly five years old, he was sent to school, chiefly no