Eves Diary | Page 3

the clods took it back of the ear, and it used
language. It gave me a thrill, for it was the first time I had ever heard
speech, except my own. I did not understand the words, but they
seemed expressive.
When I found it could talk I felt a new interest in it, for I love to talk; I
talk, all day, and in my sleep, too, and I am very interesting, but if I had
another to talk to I could be twice as interesting, and would never stop,
if desired.
If this reptile is a man, it isn't an IT, is it? That wouldn't be grammatical,
would it? I think it would be HE. I think so. In that case one would
parse it thus: nominative, HE; dative, HIM; possessive, HIS'N. Well, I
will consider it a man and call it he until it turns out to be something
else. This will be handier than having so many uncertainties.

NEXT WEEK SUNDAY.--All the week I tagged around after him and
tried to get acquainted. I had to do the talking, because he was shy, but
I didn't mind it. He seemed pleased to have me around, and I used the
sociable "we" a good deal, because it seemed to flatter him to be
included.

WEDNESDAY.--We are getting along very well indeed, now, and
getting better and better acquainted. He does not try to avoid me any
more, which is a good sign, and shows that he likes to have me with
him. That pleases me, and I study to be useful to him in every way I
can, so as to increase his regard.
During the last day or two I have taken all the work of naming things
off his hands, and this has been a great relief to him, for he has no gift
in that line, and is evidently very grateful. He can't think of a rational
name to save him, but I do not let him see that I am aware of his defect.
Whenever a new creature comes along I name it before he has time to
expose himself by an awkward silence. In this way I have saved him
many embarrassments. I have no defect like this. The minute I set eyes
on an animal I know what it is. I don't have to reflect a moment; the
right name comes out instantly, just as if it were an inspiration, as no
doubt it is, for I am sure it wasn't in me half a minute before. I seem to
know just by the shape of the creature and the way it acts what animal
it is.
When the dodo came along he thought it was a wildcat--I saw it in his
eye. But I saved him. And I was careful not to do it in a way that could
hurt his pride. I just spoke up in a quite natural way of pleasing surprise,
and not as if I was dreaming of conveying information, and said, "Well,
I do declare, if there isn't the dodo!" I explained--without seeming to be
explaining--how I know it for a dodo, and although I thought maybe he
was a little piqued that I knew the creature when he didn't, it was quite
evident that he admired me. That was very agreeable, and I thought of
it more than once with gratification before I slept. How little a thing
can make us happy when we feel that we have earned it!

THURSDAY.--my first sorrow. Yesterday he avoided me and seemed
to wish I would not talk to him. I could not believe it, and thought there
was some mistake, for I loved to be with him, and loved to hear him
talk, and so how could it be that he could feel unkind toward me when I
had not done anything? But at last it seemed true, so I went away and
sat lonely in the place where I first saw him the morning that we were
made and I did not know what he was and was indifferent about him;
but now it was a mournful place, and every little thing spoke of him,
and my heart was very sore. I did not know why very clearly, for it was
a new feeling; I had not experienced it before, and it was all a mystery,
and I could not make it out.
But when night came I could not bear the lonesomeness, and went to
the new shelter which he has built, to ask him what I had done that was
wrong and how I could mend it and get back his kindness again; but he
put me out in the rain, and it was my first sorrow.

SUNDAY.--It is pleasant again, now, and