Little Men: Life at Plumfield With Jo’s Boys by Louisa May Alcott

beetles and butterflies immensely, drinking in the history of their

changeful little lives as if it were a new and lovely sort of fairy tale

for, even in his plain way, Dan told it well, and found great

satisfaction in the thought that here at least the small philosopher

could learn of him. So interested were they in the account of

catching a musk rat, whose skin was among the treasures, that Mr.

Bhaer had to come himself to tell Nat and Demi it was time for the

walk. Dan looked so wistfully after them as they ran off that Father

Bhaer proposed carrying him to the sofa in the parlor for a little

change of air and scene.

When he was established, and the house quiet, Mrs. Jo, who sat

near by showing Teddy pictures, said, in an interested tone, as she

nodded towards the treasures still in Dan’s hands,

“Where did you learn so much about these things?”

“I always liked ’em, but didn’t know much till Mr. Hyde told me.”

“Oh, he was a man who lived round in the woods studying these

things I don’t know what you call him and wrote about frogs, and

fishes, and so on. He stayed at Page’s, and used to want me to go

and help him, and it was great fun, ’cause he told me ever so much,

and was uncommon jolly and wise. Hope I’ll see him again

sometime.”

“I hope you will,” said Mrs. Jo, for Dan’s face had brightened up,

and he was so interested in the matter that he forgot his usual

taciturnity.

“Why, he could make birds come to him, and rabbits and squirrels

didn’t mind him any more than if he was a tree. Did you ever tickle

a lizard with a straw?” asked Dan, eagerly.

“No, but I should like to try it.”

“Well, I’ve done it, and it’s so funny to see ’em turn over and stretch

out, they like it so much. Mr. Hyde used to do it; and he’d make

snakes listen to him while he whistled, and he knew just when

certain flowers would blow, and bees wouldn’t sting him, and he’d

tell the wonderfullest things about fish and flies, and the Indians

and the rocks.”

“I think you were so fond of going with Mr. Hyde, you rather

neglected Mr. Page,” said Mrs. Jo, slyly.

“Yes, I did; I hated to have to weed and hoe when I might be

tramping round with Mr. Hyde. Page thought such things silly, and

called Mr. Hyde crazy because he’d lay hours watching a trout or a

bird.”

“Suppose you say lie instead of lay, it is better grammar,” said Mrs.

Jo, very gently; and then added, “Yes, Page is a thorough farmer,

and would not understand that a naturalist’s work was just as

interesting, and perhaps just as important as his own. Now, Dan, if

you really love these things, as I think you do, and I am glad to see

it, you shall have time to study them and books to help you; but I

want you to do something besides, and to do it faithfully, else you

will be sorry by and by, and find that you have got to begin again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Dan, meekly, and looked a little scared by the

serious tone of the last remarks, for he hated books, yet had

evidently made up his mind to study anything she proposed.

“Do you see that cabinet with twelve drawers in it?” was the next

very unexpected question.

Dan did see two tall old-fashioned ones standing on either side of

the piano; he knew them well, and had often seen nice bits of

string, nails, brown paper, and such useful matters come out of the

various drawers. He nodded and smiled. Mrs. Jo went on,

“Well, don’t you think those drawers would be good places to put

your eggs, and stones, and shells, and lichens?”

“Oh, splendid, but you wouldn’t like my things ‘clutterin’ round,’ as

Mr. Page used to say, would you?” cried Dan, sitting up to survey

the old piece of furniture with sparkling eyes.

“I like litter of that sort; and if I didn’t, I should give you the

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