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.  So that was all right.  The first thing to do was to get some tea.  He went to the drawing-room.  It was empty, but upon the table near the fire was a tea-tray and two cups.  Evidently his mother and sister had just had tea there.  He put the frog at the bottom of a cup and carefully filled the cup with tea from the teapot.  Then he left it to soak and went out into the garden.

[Illustration:  IN FROZEN SILENCE UNCLE GEORGE PUT A SPOON INTO HIS CUP AND INVESTIGATED THE CONTENTS.  IN STILL MORE FROZEN SILENCE MRS. BROWN AND WILLIAM WATCHED.]

A few minutes later William’s mother entered the drawing-room.

Uncle George had finished resting and was standing by the mantel-piece with a cup in his hand.

“I see you poured out my tea for me,” he said.  “But rather a curious taste.  Doubtless you boil the milk now.  Safer, of course.  Much safer.  But it imparts a curious flavour.”

He took another sip.

“But—­I didn’t pour out your tea——­” began Mrs. Brown.

Here William entered.  He looked quickly at the table.

“Who’s meddlin’ with my frog?” he said angrily.  “It’s my hobby, an’ I’m stuffin’ frogs an’ someone’s been an’ took my frog.  I left it on the table.”

“On the table?” said his mother.

“Yes.  In a cup of tea.  Gettin’ tannin.’  You know.  For stuffin’.  I was puttin’ him in tannin’ first.  I——­”

Uncle George grew pale.  In frozen silence he put a spoon into his cup and investigated the contents.  In still more frozen silence Mrs. Brown and William watched.  That moment held all the cumulative horror of a Greek tragedy.  Then Uncle George put down his cup and went silently from the room.  On his face was the expression of one who is going to look up the first train home.  Fate had sent him a buffet he could not endure with equanimity, a misfortune at which he could not smile, and Fate had avenged William for much.

CHAPTER VI

THE RIVALS

William was aware of a vague feeling of apprehension when he heard that Joan Clive, the little girl who lived next door, was having a strange cousin to stay for three weeks.  All his life, William had accepted Joan’s adoration and homage with condescending indifference, but he did not like to imagine a possible rival.