On the Banks of the Amazon | Page 8

learned
the names of nearly all of them; and John told me where they had come
from, and all about their habits. Then Uncle James gave me a book of
natural history, which I read with great delight. I found by the book that
the beasts I had seen at Exeter Change were only a very small number
of those which exist in different parts of the world. I liked that book of
natural history better than any I had ever read; except, perhaps,
"Robinson Crusoe," which Tony had lent me, and which he said was
the best book that ever was written. I thus gained a very considerable
knowledge of the quadrupeds and the feathered tribes of the animal
kingdom, and Uncle James said he thought some day I should become
a first-rate naturalist, if I had opportunities of studying the creatures in
their native wild. I resolved the next summer holidays, which were to
be spent in the country, to catch as many of the creatures as I could, and
form a menagerie of my own. I should say I had not told John of the
plan Tony and I had in contemplation--of exploring the Amazon by
ourselves. I thought, from some of his remarks, that he possibly might
not approve of it.
I soon got tired of London, after I had seen the usual sights, though I
was glad to be with my mother and Ellen and my cousins. John also
was very kind, but he was such a big fellow that I stood in as much awe
of him as I did of my uncle. I was not sorry, therefore, to find myself at
school with companions of my own age. As the weather was very cold,
Tony and I agreed that we would put off our expedition till the summer,
and in the meantime we talked of the menagerie I proposed making,
and other subjects of equal importance, which prevented us thinking
about the former matter.
I had a good many friends among my school-fellows. Arthur Mallet,
next to Tony, was my chief friend. He was by several months my
junior--a delicate, gentle boy, amiable, sensible, and clever. He was

liked by the masters as well as by the boys, and that is saying much in
his favour. Poor fellow, notwithstanding this he was frequently out of
spirits. I asked him one day why he looked so sad. He was silent for
some minutes. "I will tell you, Harry," he said at length. "I am thinking
of my mother. She is dying. I know it, for she told me so. She never
deceived me. When she has gone I shall have no one to care for
me--and--and--Harry, I shall have to depend on the charity of strangers
for support. She urged me to work hard, that I might be independent;
but it will be a long time before I can become so. For myself I do not so
much mind, but it troubles my mother greatly; and then to have her
die--though I know she is going to heaven--I cannot bear the thought."
He said more in the same style. "And then, should my father come
back--oh, what will he do!" he added.
"I thought from what you said that you had no father," I remarked.
"Where is he then, Arthur?"
"That is what I do not know," he answered. "Do not speak about it to
any one, Harry. He went away a long time ago, on account of
something that had happened. He could not bear to stay in England. But
he was not to blame. That is all I know. He could not take her with him;
and my grandmother and aunts with whom she was left died, and their
fortune was lost; and what she has now got is only for her life, and that
troubles her also greatly."
I tried as well as I could to comfort Arthur, and after this felt more than
ever anxious to stand by him an a friend. "I may some day be able to
help him," I thought--but I did not tell him so. Our friendship had been
disinterested, and thus I wished it to remain.
I said that I had many friends at school, but there were some few whom
I looked upon in a contrary light; especially one big boy, Houlston, of
whom all the little ones were dreadfully afraid. He used to make us do
anything that seized his fancy, and if we ventured to refuse, often
thrashed us. Poor Arthur Mallet frequently came in for his ill-treatment,
and bore it, we all thought, with far too much patience. At last Tony
and I and a few other fellows agreed that we would stand it no longer.
One day Houlston and one of