Stamp-collecting, pressed flowers,
crest-collecting--Ugh!
He set off down the road, his hands in his pockets and his brows drawn
into a stern frown. He amused himself by imagining Uncle George in
various predicaments, lost on a desert island, captured by pirates,
or carried off by an eagle. Then something in the window of a house he
passed caught his eye and he stopped suddenly. It was a stuffed bird
under a glass case. Now that was something _like_ a hobby, stuffing
dead animals! He wouldn't mind having that for a hobby. And it was
quite quiet. He could do it while Uncle George was resting. And it
must be quite easy. The first thing to do of course was to find a dead
animal. Any old thing would do to begin on. A dead cat or dog. He
would do bigger ones like bears and lions later on. He spent nearly an
hour in a fruitless search for a dead cat or dog. He searched the
ditches on both sides of the road and several gardens. He began to
have a distinct sense of grievance against the race of cats and dogs
in general for not dying in his vicinity. At the end of the hour he
found a small dead frog. It was very dry and shrivelled, but it was
certainly a _dead_ frog and would do to begin on. He took it home in
his pocket. He wondered what they did first in stuffing dead animals.
He'd heard something about "tannin'" them. But what was "tannin'," and
how did one get it? Then he remembered suddenly having heard Ethel
talk about the "tannin'" in tea.
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