"A what?" asked Ben, pushing back his hat with such an air of amazement that Thorny rather loftily inquired:
"Don't you know what an amanuensis is?"
"Well, no; not unless it's some relation to an anaconda. Shouldn't think you'd want one of them, anyway."
Thorny rolled over with a hoot of derision, and his sister, who sat close by, sketching an old gate, looked up to see what was going on.
"Well, you needn't laugh at a feller. You didn't know what a wombat was when I asked you, and I didn't roar," said Ben, giving his hat a slap, as nothing else was handy.
"The idea of wanting an anaconda tickled me so, I couldn't help it. I dare say you'd have got me one if I had asked for it, you are such an obliging chap."
"Of course I would if I could. Shouldn't be surprised if you did some day, you want such funny things," answered Ben, appeased by the compliment.
"I'll try the amanuensis first. It's only some one to write for me; I get so tired doing it without a table. You write well enough, and it will be good for you to know something about botany. I intend to teach you, Ben," said Thorny, as if conferring a great favor.
"It looks pretty hard," muttered Ben, with a doleful Glance at the book laid open upon a strew of torn leaves and flowers.
"No, it isn't; it's regularly jolly; and you'd be no end of a help if you only knew a little. Now, suppose I say, 'Bring me a "ranunculus bulbosus,"' how would you know what I wanted?" demanded Thorny, waving his microscope with a learned air.