him I was much obliged, but I really didn’t know where I could keep them; but the poor little fellow—I shouldn’t think he was more than seven or eight—looked so disappointed that I finally took them. I grieve to say that I cremated them as soon as he had gone. Fred, if you love me, do, oh, do tell the boys that we only want dead specimens. My plan was for a museum, not a menagerie; but if matters go on like this, the club will soon become my bugaboo.”