“He tried the birches for ten minutes, and then he went up the stream to look for algæ.”
At this moment Jack appeared. He came slowly towards us, looking at something in his hand.
“Lend me your magnifying-glass, Eleanor,” said he, when he had reached us.
Eleanor unfastened it from her chatelaine, and Jack became absorbed in examining some water-weed in a dock-leaf.
“What is it?” said we.
“It’s a new species, I believe. Look, Eleanor!” and he gave her the leaf and the glass with an almost pathetic anxiety of countenance.
My opinion carried no weight in the matter, but Eleanor was nearly as good a naturalist as her mother. And she was inclined to agree with Jack.
“It’s too good to be true! But I certainly don’t know it. Where did you find it?”
“No, thank you,” said Jack derisively. “I mean to keep the habitat to myself for the present. For a very good reason. Margery, my child, put that sketch of mine into the pocket of your block. (The paper is much about the size of your own!) It is going into the ‘Household Album.’”
We went home earlier than we had intended. Even the perseverance of Eleanor and Clement broke down under their ill-success. Jack was the only well-satisfied one of the party, and, with his usual good-nature, he tried hard to infect me with his cheerfulness.