Nat the Naturalist | Page 9

"I had to do with it as well. I helped him. Nat wants to understand bird-stuffing, and we have been to the museum and then we came home."
"Well, of course you did," said my aunt tartly; "do you suppose I thought you stopped to live in the museum?"
"No, my dear, of course not," said my uncle, laughing feebly. "We are studying the art of taxidermy, my dear, Nat and I."
He added this quite importantly, putting his eyeglasses on and nodding to me for my approval and support.
"Bless the man! Taxi what?" cried my aunt, who seemed to be fascinated by Polly's eyes; and she began to softly scratch the feathers on the back of the head.
"Taxi-dermy," said my uncle, "and--and, my dear, I wouldn't scratch Polly's head if I were you; the skins are preserved with poison."
"Bless my heart!" exclaimed my aunt, snatching back her hand; and then holding out a finger to me: "Wipe that, Nat."
I took out my handkerchief, dipped a corner in the watering-pot, and carefully wiped the finger clear of anything that might be sticking to it, though, as my own hands were so lately in contact with Polly's skin, I don't believe that I did much good; but it satisfied my aunt, who turned once more to Uncle Joe.
"Now then, Joseph; what did you say?"
"Taxi-dermy, my dear," he said again importantly; "the art of preserving and mounting the skins of dead animals."
"And a nice mess you'll both make, I dare say," cried my aunt.
"But not indoors, my dear. We shall be very careful. You see Polly had been a good deal knocked about. Your large black box had fallen right upon her, and her head was off, my dear. The glass shade was in shivers."
"Poor Polly, yes," said my aunt, "I had her put there because of the moths in her feathers. Well, mind this, I shall expect Natty to repair her very nicely; and you must buy a new glass shade, Joseph. Ah, my precious!"
This was to Nap, who, in reply to her tender speech, made three or four bounds to get to me, but aunt caught him by the ear and held him with the skin of his face pulled sidewise, so that he seemed to be winking at me as he lolled out his thin red tongue, and uttered a low whine.
"But mind this, I will not have any mess made indoors."
As she spoke my aunt stooped down and took Nap in her arms, soiling her handsome silk dress a good deal with the dog's dirty feet. Then she walked away saying endearing things to Nap, who only whined and struggled to get away in the most ungrateful fashion; while my uncle took off his glasses, drew a long breath, and said as he wiped his face with his red silk handkerchief:
"I was afraid she was going to be very cross, my boy. She's such a good woman, your dear aunt, my boy, and I'm very proud of her; but she does upset me so when she is cross."
"I was all of a fidge, uncle," I said laughing.
"So was I, Nat, so was I. But don't laugh, my boy. It is too serious a thing for smiles. It always puts me in such a dreadful perspiration, Nat, for I don't like to be angry too. Never be angry with a woman when you grow up, Nat, my boy; women, you see, belong to the weaker sex."
"Yes, uncle," I said wonderingly; and then he began to beam and smile again, and rubbed his hands together softly as he looked at our work.
"But you will have to put Polly together again, Nat," he said at last.
"Put her together again, uncle!" I said in dismay. "Why, it's like Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall--all the king's horses and all the king's men--"
"Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again," said my uncle quite seriously. "But we must put Polly together again, Natty. There's your aunt, you know."
"Yes, uncle, there's Aunt Sophia," I said ruefully; "but the feathers are all out of the skin, and the skin's all in pieces. I'm afraid she will never look decent, try how I may."
My uncle rubbed his head softly.
"It does look as if it would be a terrible job, Nat," he said; "but it must be done, and I'm afraid if you made her look as well as she did when we found her, your aunt wouldn't be satisfied."
"I'm sure I couldn't make her look as well as she did then, uncle," I replied despairingly; "but I'll try."
"Yes, do, my boy. That's right, try. And look here, Nat--I'll help you."
I was very glad to hear Uncle Joseph say that, though I did not think he would be able to help me much; and so as to lose no time we began