Willard politely replied that he would and McNatt opened the doors of the case and thereupon held forth for some ten minutes, during which time Willard pretended interest in various specimens and said “Really?”, “Is that so?” and “Indeed!” dozens of times. When it came to the birds’ eggs he had the courage to say that he wasn’t very much interested, and McNatt passed them by. “I’m thinking of getting rid of them,” he announced. “I need the space for other things. If you hear of anyone who’d like a nice collection I wish you’d let me know.” Willard agreed and was shown some choice things in cocoons, an extensive collection of butterflies and moths which occupied the two lower drawers of McNatt’s chiffonier, several specimens of tree-fungus, a cigar-box full of shells gathered along the river, a pair of chameleons in a shoe-box, a number of small phials filled with liquids of various hues which McNatt assured him were vegetable dyes, another phial of whitish powder that its exhibitor called kaolin, and numerous other wonders. McNatt was quite impressive about the kaolin.
“I guess I’m the only one who knows about it,” he said, lowering his voice and looking guardedly toward the door. “It’s immensely valuable, you know.”
“Is it?” asked Willard.
“Oh, yes. It’s what they make porcelain from. China clay they call it sometimes. There’s a big deposit of it where I found this, and maybe some day I’ll buy the land and develop it. Meanwhile, of course, I’m keeping very quiet about it.”
“Of course,” murmured Willard.
“And here’s another thing,” continued McNatt. “Take these vegetable dyes. There isn’t one of those you couldn’t make just as well as I did, Harmon!”
“You don’t say?”
“Yes, sir! And every one is made of something that grows right beside your door, as you might say. Now take this.” He shook a phial until the sediment at the bottom turned the liquid to a muddy purple as seen against the light. “Nothing but poke-berry! I don’t mind letting you in on that because lots of people know about getting color from poke-berry. But here’s one, by ginger, you won’t often see!” He held up a second bottle and Willard gazed on a quite gorgeous crimson. “How’s that for color?” asked McNatt. “You don’t find anything finer than that, I’ll bet!”
“Mighty pretty,” responded Willard. “What’s that made from?”
McNatt chuckled, winked portentously and shook his head. “That’s a secret. I’d tell you only I might want to go into the business some day, Harmon. Not as a life-work, you understand, but— Know anything about mycology?”